Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

"Suitcases? Is that what you call them?" Athan chuckled deeply. "Never heard of that word; keep me impressed, Violette."

[I try not to, rest assured.]

'If only he knew who I was….'

Another set of an erratic heartbeat was going on with her, and it was simply uncontrollable—it became a burden on her part as she harbored feelings for the man she had the slightest interest in.

Athan had a great physique and a captivating look to pair with his great potential and powerful status made him an indisputable cream of the crop of all the bachelors. 

Yet, he was still not her type.

"I'm glad this went easy; I thought it was a suitable punishment for your father." He had a suggestive smile, which almost startled her deep to the bone. "The future is bleak, don't you think so?"

Nathalie was livid.

[You're courting death.]

"...Do you really hate me that much?"

[Allow me to make things clear, Your Highness. Again, I don't remember loving you.] Nathalie tapped her cheek with a scornful visage. [Pardon me, as I was only after your wealth and prestige.]

"Lies. You now live anew, but you still utter the most hateful words even though we both know you are still into me."

Nathalie contested his gaze while pondering, 'Every statement was true except being into you, I'm Mystique no more.' However, she kept it to herself.

[I want to live a quiet life, Athan. My family is out of this, and I shall help you with all that I can.]

Soon as she muttered the words, her eyes flickered as she got deceived from his that gleamed, and his face that went ashen white now beamed and bright.

No one would deny he wasn't the happiest man in the world.

"You're very much cooperative; I like this new side of you." He reached for his pocket near the lapel of his suit and grabbed the pouch. 

[You must not know me at all, then—]

"I do…"

Most of the time, Nathalie crossed her ankles, hands on the lap, and sat upright like the classy lady that she was, though she was subtle about her fingertips pressing her skin from waves of nervousness that rushed like waves.

His gaze would almost peel her skin alive, and she already reached a point of no return.

For the whole time, Nathalie was paranoid of her survival, thinking she might not last that long. But now that she had come this far—the sudden shift of his perspective on her when the rest was against her and achieving what she had in the bag. With only a little time to prepare herself for what was about to come mentally, perhaps this was the only opportunity she would negotiate; then, there was no holding back.

"I must say…" Athan rubbed his chin as his eyes scanned from left to right numerous times. "Quite the terms and conditions you have here."

[Do you have a problem with it?]

"Not really; I thought that it would've been the worst." With closed eyes, he took a deep breath, placing the contract on the table. "Fine by me."

Nathalie almost flinched from her seat; for him to agree without asking so much about it cast doubt in her head. But, in the same token, she thought how this was all coming, and willing to trade the luggage with 'Hymnic Conch' she had like a hostage.

After she threw the bait, recalling Marianne to the castle, he reacted and dealt with the situation very unusual. It was then realization dawned upon her how Athan knew about the future. 

A final sign that she had to speed things up, and in her favor or else the villainess's fate sealed, and not one bit she had trust in him.

"I left a space here after all so you could write what you want." He leaned again, tapping on the supposedly free space that was now filled with her clauses. 

He then grabbed a pen and wrote his signature before biting his thumb; a bloody fingerprint smeared on the parchment as soon as the blood bloomed.

"Your turn."

[I have great words of power—]

"Only if you have a medium, Violette." A flash of his pearly white teeth from a lopsided grin.

[I know what I'm doing, thank you very much.] She retorted, then flicked her wrist away. 

A sharp tear rang her ear as she tore a page of her grimoire and scribbled with a signature.

In the air, the torn page flew from a single blow and melded to the contract. 

The paper went aglow for a while, then shredded to particles of light.

"Great, now that everything's set…" he trailed off his voice with his hand picking up the pouch. After stretching wide, the suitcases magically splurged out to the side of the couch he sat, displayed in one line. "Are you sure about this?"

[What else then?] She sighed. [You displayed determination, regardless of the farce. You've proven it already that you can do well with or without me.]

Right now, it doesn't matter for Nathalie; now that he was aware of what future awaited him more or less; no point in doing it either for his sake or in his stead.

"I would've done it long ago if I did it without you. Why am I even here?" Athan grinned as he had a soft, solemn gaze that was only for her to see. "I need you, Violette. I really do."

Believe it or not, her heart raced that every sound around her toned down as she almost crumbled from her composure.

[Alright—I get it…] She wrote in panic. 

A little peer at the contract and remembered every clause written.

'Still can't believe that I got roped in...'

Several thoughts lingered from the curse she cast upon him—it was of a perfect set-up, perfect condition, and perfect timing—one he didn't notice, most especially with Arnold's guidance.

'Right, it's just sex, monthly—nothing more, nothing less.' A deep sigh left her lips.

All she wanted was to take what was hers, begin with, and threaten the Grand Duke Forsberg.

Indeed, to threaten him would've been a suitable choice, or so at least she thought.

[Here, take it.] She pitched the 'Hymnic Conch' and went to his grasp. [Take care of that.]

"You know I will." Athan then stood with a triumphant visage and strolled towards the door. "Oh, before I leave, don't forget our contract, hmm?"