Loved by the Villain
He’s exactly as I remember from the photos Keith showed me—early thirties, decent suit, black silky hair slicked back perfectly, and light stubble on his smug face.
“You look like you are about to break his neck already,” Keith says in a low voice.
“Patience,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat.
Orson sits across from the anchor on a couch. The lighting dims slightly, putting all focus on them. I watch Orson closely, my eyes never leaving him. He’s smiling like he owns the world, his arrogance practically oozing off him.
The anchor wastes no time getting to the point. “Orson, thank you so much for joining us tonight. You’ve been quite the topic lately—successful businesses, expanding ne