Playing the Villainess, He Fell for Me

Charles Jennings walked out slowly, dressed in a well-fitted suit.

’Combined with that gentle, handsome face of his, he really has the air of a young master from a distinguished family,’ Joanna Kennedy praised inwardly.

Then she remembered that this man was about to bankrupt her family, and suddenly, she couldn’t bring herself to admire him anymore.

’Heh. On second thought, no heh.’

Everything that followed went smoothly. The head of the Jennings family vaguely explained that Charles Jennings had been missing for many years and had only recently been found, never once mentioning that he was an illegitimate son.

Everyone else understood the real situation, but they were all tactful enough not to call him out. This sort of thing wasn’t unique to the Jennings family; plenty of other wealthy, distinguished families had similar skeletons in their closets. The only difference was whether or not they’d been exposed.

There was no point in exposing it.

Since the head of the Jennings family had chosen this moment to bring back his illegitimate son, it clearly meant he was to be given significant authority. Everyone present was in business, and future collaborations were inevitable.

So, one after another, they sent their own younger family members to go and socialize with him.

Joanna Kennedy sat in a corner, watching as Charles Jennings effortlessly dealt with person after person who approached him.

Her thoughts drifted unexpectedly to Simon Lockwood.

’The Simon Lockwood from the book will build his own business empire in six years. Will he be like Charles Jennings, skillfully navigating the schmoozing and hobnobbing of the business world?’

Joanna Kennedy imagined a phony smile plastered on Simon Lockwood’s ice-cold face.

’Ew...’

A shiver ran down her spine. ’I can’t even picture it. How terrifying would that be...’

She couldn’t watch any longer. Setting down the delicate plate she had wiped clean, she went to get some fresh air.

Behind the banquet hall was a garden. At this time of year, only the camellias were still in bloom, hanging like fiery clumps amidst the dark green branches.

Joanna Kennedy wasn’t dressed warmly enough, so she didn’t go outside. Instead, she stood in the enclosed hallway, gazing out through a glass window. Unhurried footsteps echoed from behind her.

She turned to look and was surprised to see the man of the hour, the incredibly busy Charles Jennings.

As for Charles Jennings, he had spotted Joanna Kennedy the moment he entered the banquet hall, nestled on a sofa and eating cake.

The reason was simple: every other woman was wearing a thin but exquisitely beautiful dress. Only Joanna Kennedy had thrown a black trench coat over her simple dress, making her look remarkably unpretentious.

He had been keeping an eye on her out of the corner of his vision. When he saw her finish her cake and walk out, he had followed her instinctively.

”Miss Kennedy, we meet again.”

’He’s certainly figured out what to call people in different situations.’

Joanna Kennedy gave a perfunctory reply and, feigning indifference, went back to looking at the flowers outside.

Charles Jennings raised an eyebrow. ”You don’t seem surprised by my identity.”

’The bastard is surprisingly perceptive.’

Joanna Kennedy rolled her eyes. ’Can’t break character.’ She said, ”Whose son you are has nothing to do with me. It’s not like you’re *my* son.”

’The arrogant, domineering persona was perfectly captured.’ Even the renowned nitpicker 166 approved of those lines, which made her wonder all the more if there was something wrong with Simon Lockwood. ’How could he fall for *this*? He must be a total masochist!’

Charles Jennings, hearing this insolent declaration: ”...”

He took a deep breath, his fingers nearly crushing the wine glass. Then, as if a thought struck him, he suddenly said, ”It will have something to do with you.”

He followed this with an ambiguous smile. Joanna’s expression turned wooden. ”Ha.”

Charles Jennings wasn’t angered by her attitude. In his eyes, Joanna Kennedy was nothing more than a delicate, harmless flower in a glass greenhouse.

’Once the glass shatters, how long can this ”flower” possibly survive?’ As the one who would soon shatter that glass with his own hands, Charles Jennings eagerly awaited her downfall.

It wasn’t that he particularly hated Joanna Kennedy. It was just that she had threatened someone he cared about and made that person unhappy, so now he had no choice but to act.

Back in the banquet hall, his father was calling for him. Charles Jennings turned, his gaze leaving Joanna Kennedy.

Feeling thoroughly disgusted, Joanna Kennedy didn’t want to spend another second on Charles Jennings’s turf.

She sent a message to Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy, and without waiting for a reply, she pulled her black trench coat tighter and walked out of the banquet hall.

The Kennedy family car was parked nearby. Mr. Kennedy had driven today, so the chauffeur wasn’t here. In this world, Joanna Kennedy didn’t have a driver’s license yet, and driving without one was out of the question.

She stood on the roadside and hailed a cab. When the driver asked for her destination, Joanna Kennedy thought for a moment before rattling off an address.

The driver glanced back at the grand mansion behind her in surprise, then at her expensive clothes. ”Are you sure?” he asked, his voice hesitant.

’She’s obviously a rich kid. What’s she doing going to the rundown old district? She must’ve been scammed or something.’

Joanna Kennedy was shivering, the wind whipping around her on the roadside. She was dressed so lightly. At his question, she nodded emphatically.

It wasn’t until she’d been in the car for a good while that she began to feel warmth return to her body.

Now she finally had the energy to respond to 166, who had been chattering incessantly, demanding to know why she was going to see Simon Lockwood.

was being extra sensitive. [You’re going to seduce the male lead again, aren’t you?!]

[Don’t be ridiculous,] Joanna shot back, refusing to admit it. [I’m not that kind of person.]

[Then why are you going to see him?!] 166 replied, unconvinced.

Dealing with such an idiotic little system was exhausting. Joanna explained with the long-suffering patience of a saint: [My persona is the ’vicious female foil’ who’s obsessed with his handsome face. I haven’t bothered him for days. Does that seem reasonable to you?]

She could make Simon Lockwood despise her by reinforcing his preconceived notions, but she couldn’t just ignore him. That would go against the ”Joanna Kennedy” character.

went silent.

The taxi couldn’t enter the narrow old alley and stopped at its mouth. The kind driver urged her to go home, telling her how filthy and chaotic the area was.

Joanna Kennedy hugged her thin, wind-chilled frame. Touched, she sniffled loudly. ’Sniffle, sob... there really are a lot of good people in the world.’

She didn’t know if it was her bad luck or if the driver had jinxed her, but after taking only a few steps, Joanna Kennedy ran right into a few shifty-looking thugs.

’Oh, great. What a wonderful ”surprise.”’

[166, what’s happening? Did you arrange this to have me killed?]

Still having the nerve to joke at a time like this, 166 snorted. [I’m not that petty. You were the one who insisted on coming here. Since you’ve run into trouble, you can solve it yourself. I’m just a system; I can’t help you.]

Then it went radio silent.

Joanna Kennedy: [...]

It was too late to turn back now. Joanna Kennedy lowered her head, hugging the wall as she walked.

But what’s fated to happen will happen; hugging the wall wasn’t going to solve anything.

Her path forward was blocked. Joanna Kennedy frowned, and when she tried to go around them, her other side was blocked as well.

She had no choice but to look up, feeling several disgusting gazes glued to her face.

Joanna Kennedy tried her best to sound pleasant. ”Excuse me, could you let me pass?”

She was strikingly pretty, with an innocent-looking face. Her fair, translucent skin seemed to glow in the night. Her dark, slightly curly hair tumbled over her shoulders. The black trench coat made her skin look even paler, and the hem of her dress peeked out from beneath it.

It was a delicate, precious sort of beauty, completely at odds with her surroundings.

’Fuck... Where did this goddess come from...’

The thugs were dumbstruck. They thought that even the biggest TV stars weren’t as beautiful as the girl who had just appeared before them.