Transmigration Into The Apocalypse As The Villainess

Lorcan Steele was my bodyguard, and I'd been in love with him for ten years.

On my 18th birthday, I bounded up to him with a huge rose bouquet and proposed happily, "Marry me, Lorcan. I can give you a complete family."

He'd frowned at me in disdain. "Scram, and stay the hell away from me!"

I knew Lorcan hated me.

After that, I fell from my pedestal, the silence of my disgrace deafening. And yet, Lorcan backed me up against the wall and asked, "Will you take me if I offer myself to you right now?"

I replied icily, "That's cheap of you, don't you think?"

Ten years later, I returned from abroad.

The moment I stepped off the plane, my phone blew up with messages from my best friend, Zoey Morrison, informing me that the head boy from our class in high school was setting up a class reunion that evening.

A decade ago, my father's company crumbled overnight. Then came the scandals and the debts.

Out of love, my father sent me abroad during the crisis. I ended up staying abroad for ten years.

The crowd streamed past me as I stepped out of the airport, my shades perched atop my nose bridge as I beheld the man on the large, commercial poster. His towering figure and hard expression aside, the man was also a renowned business tycoon.

It seemed a lot had changed in ten years.

A smirk tugged on my red lips. The formerly proud red rose had withered away while the strong-but-silent, lone black wolf had continued forward. And now, he stood at the apex of the social pyramid.

I changed into plain, casual clothes and showed up at the class reunion at 8:00 pm that night. I hadn't wanted to attend at first, but somehow, Zoey talked and needled me into going.

I was an heiress back in high school, spoiled and loved by my dad. I'd come from an affluent background, had great manners, and I was sincere and generous to my classmates.

As a result, none of my old classmates sneered or tried to humiliate me even when I showed up at the reunion in plain, nondescript clothing. On the contrary, they volleyed warm, passionate greetings and pleasantries at me.

"Oh my gosh, Tess! You've come home at last! You've no idea how much we've missed you!"

"Yeah! When Zoey told us you were back, I called her and demanded that she invite you to the reunion!"

The crowd swarmed me as I sipped my red wine, smiling as I scanned the spacious lounge several times. Alas, I didn't see the familiar figure I'd hoped to see.

At that moment, someone in the crowd piped up, "Hey, is Lorcan taking a rain check again this year?"

Everyone at the dining table went hush. Some of them shot glances in my direction, but an unspoken agreement seemed to pass through them, for they immediately changed the subject with renewed enthusiasm.

The question was soon drowned out by the chattering around me and disappeared unanswered.

20 years ago, my dad changed bodyguards. The new one had brought with him a fine-looking little boy who bore the same vicious look as he did. They moved into our villa, and the little boy went to school with me.

I'd been young at the time. An eight-year-old spoiled rotten by my dad, I'd grown accustomed to having my way and forcefully appointed Lorcan as my bodyguard. It was quite the status symbol then; I'd never felt more powerful in school than when I walked around with Lorcan.

There was no telling when my feelings for Lorcan started to change, but I'd like to think it was during junior high. He'd grown into a young man with strong, chiseled features, and he shot up and towered over me by at least a foot or two.

I was five feet five, but even then, I barely reached his shoulders. When we went home from school together, I'd watch our shadows merge and part under the setting sun, only to unconsciously draw closer and closer to him.