A Regressed Villain: Heroines, Villainesses and Me?

'Is she still angry?' Lin thought, seated beside Amrita.

He noticed how she seemed completely oblivious to his presence, yet she took her seat next to him without exhibiting any signs of repulsion or hatred.

However, the silence between them was deafening; not a single word had been exchanged, which stirred doubt in his mind—was she truly angry, or merely upset?

The classroom buzzed with a quiet focus, the rhythmic scratch of pens and pencils melding into a soft background noise.

Amrita perched on the edge of the bench beside Lin, her attention directed toward the front of the room where the professor was diligently explaining a complex topic, jotting down notes at an impressive pace.

Of course, she had noticed Lin sneaking glances at her instead of writing down what the professor was saying.

Moreover, she could sense the professor stealing glances in their direction from time to time, making it all too clear that if they were caught speaking in class, both would face punishment.

Given the importance of the day's lecture, she was determined not to let a trivial conversation distract her.

Suddenly, a shadow fell across her desk.

"Huh?" Amrita looked up to find a man in a sharply pressed black suit standing in the doorway.

His expression was formal, almost impassive.

"Is Amrita here?" he called, his voice slicing through the stillness of the classroom, causing the professor to pause and the other students to turn with curiosity and unease.

"C-coming!" she stammered, hastily gathering her belongings as her heart began to race.

"Did something happen?" she ventured cautiously as she descended from the podium to approach the doorway.

However, the man offered no explanation, simply motioning for her to follow.

As she walked down the long corridor, the silence pressed against her like an unwelcome weight.

The director's office door loomed ahead, its polished wood and brass nameplate making her stomach churn with apprehension.

This was the first time she would meet the director after her extended stay at the academy.

"Haah..." She took a shaky breath and knocked softly.

"Come in," instructed a voice from within.

Amrita stepped into the room, her palms clammy with anxiety.

The director—an elderly man with a thick white beard and a cane resting against his desk—sat behind a cluttered surface piled with various documents.

His piercing gaze met hers, and he gestured for her to take a seat.

'Why the Marquess?' the thought crossed the director's mind as he looked at Amrita, feeling a tightness in his chest and an internal struggle with his own pride.

He had been forced to make the difficult decision to remove such a talented individual from the academy.

He knew it was unjust—her brother's actions, while shameful, were not a reflection of her character.

But there was nothing he could do.

"Amrita," he began, his voice calm yet laden with gravity.

"I won't waste your time.

Do you know why I've called you here?"

Already filled with anger due to the director's serious demeanor and those foreboding words, Amrita shook her head, her fingers nervously gripping her bag.

"No, sir. I don't."

The director pushed a file across the desk toward her—a report delivered by someone from the Sertsul family at the behest of the Marquess.

"Read this."

'Y-yes.' Amrita's hands trembled as she opened the file, a wave of worry washing over her.

She couldn't help but recall the troubling events with Aria and Lin, and the fear that their actions might soon have severe repercussions on her future.

But now, faced with this file, the weight of uncertainty felt even heavier.

'!?!'

"N-no," her eyes widened in shock as she flipped through the documents laid out before her: police reports, FIRs, and detailed complaints against a name she knew all too well.

Her brother's name—Raj.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Is this true?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

The director nodded, though he wished he could dispel the doubts that crept into his mind.

After having reviewed the evidence himself, he was convinced that her brother was indeed involved in scams and frauds, and his expression betrayed little of his internal conflict.

"He has participated in numerous schemes, defrauding innocent people and ruining reputations.

The academy cannot afford to overlook such a connection.

It is with a heavy heart that I must expel you."

Her heart raced.

Badump.

Amrita's world shattered in an instant.

She stared at the damning paperwork, her chest constricting with a whirlwind of disbelief and fear.

"Sir, please," she implored, her voice cracking.

"I had no idea any of this was happening.

My brother's actions are his own—I've never been involved in anything like this.

Please, don't punish me for his mistakes."

The director maintained his steady gaze, but inside he felt a conflict simmer.

He closed his eyes momentarily, wishing he could avoid seeing the anguish etched across her face.

He understood how hard she had fought to get here, especially considering the sacrifices she had made to pass the entrance exam and secure scholarships, often studying late into the night.

Now, everything she had worked for was at risk because of her brother's wrongdoing.

He moved toward the window, avoiding her pleading eyes.

"This decision is final.

The reputation of the academy is at stake."

"N-no, sir!?" In an instant, her entire life seemed to flash before her, like a rapid slideshow of her struggles and triumphs.

The thought of being thrown out of the academy due to her brother's mistakes was unbearable.

Tears brimmed in her eyes as she sprinted toward him, falling to her knees in desperation.

She grasped his feet, "Please, sir, don't do this to me.

This scholarship is my only chance.

I came here to study, to build a life for myself.

I'm begging you."

'!'

'How pathetic I have become!' For the director, the moment that girl pleaded, his whole body shook.

Though he wished to maintain his composure and adhere to the decision to expel her, the moment Amrita touched his feet, he felt a wave of foolishness wash over him.

He was on the verge of abandoning his principles, being compelled to expel a hardworking student who undoubtedly had the potential and determination to achieve great things in the future.

Amrita's voice trembled as she clung to his leg, her head bowed so low that her forehead nearly touched the floor.

"Please, don't take this away from me. I promise to prove myself. Just don't send me away."

"No, remember your principles!" he reminded himself, striving to fortify his resolve.

A part of him admired his readiness to face any consequences that might arise for defying the Marquess's order.

He looked down at her, tears streaming down her face, her body shaking with raw emotion.

He leaned forward, lifting her gently by both shoulders and raising her to her feet.

"Enough, child," he said softly, his eyes reflecting a determination to face whatever repercussions awaited him, uncaring of the potential impact on his family.

His principles mattered more than his very life, and he now recognized how foolish it would have been to forsake his only source of pride—his principles.

His voice thick with emotion he rarely revealed, he continued, "If I had a daughter, she would be about your age. And if she found herself in your situation, I would want someone to give her a chance."

Amrita's sobs began to quiet, her tear-brimmed eyes searching his face for any glimmer of hope.

Her mind had been rocked by the looming threat that jeopardized everything she had tirelessly worked for.

The director exhaled heavily, retreating toward his desk.

He placed a hand upon it, gazing at his chair—the very place from which he swore to make this academy the best it could be and to steer clear of political machinations.

Today, however, he felt he had crumbled under the weight of mere words from someone intent on destroying him and his family.

Was he really that weak?

Or had the principles and ethics he cherished more than life itself fallen apart under the pressure of a tangible threat?

Leaning on his cane as he straightened, tapping it on the floor, he declared, "You need not cry anymore. I'll reverse the expulsion order. Focus on your studies, and show me that my decision to keep you here was the right one."

Relief washed over Amrita as she bowed deeply, her voice thick with gratitude.

"Thank you, sir. I truly appreciate it. I won't let you down."

The director offered her a faint, weary smile.

"Go now. Just don't give me a reason to regret this decision." Discover more stories at empire

As she exited the office, her steps felt unsteady, but her heart brimmed with renewed determination.

Wiping her face, she silently vowed to work harder than ever to prove herself worthy of the second chance she had been granted.

Tap tap.

As Amrita made her way out, her footsteps gradually faded, and her figure eventually slipped out of view on the phone that Rivia held.

Standing outside, Rivia sensed a faint confusion in the director's expression as he noticed Amrita's obliviousness to her presence.

Yet, brushing aside his puzzlement, he inquired, "Why are you recording?"

Considering he had gone against the orders of the Marquess, he realized the Marquess would be angry and exert some pressure over him now.

Still, the director was genuinely curious about her reasons for documenting the encounter.

Had she merely wanted to gather information about his decision and show it to Marquess?

"Mind your own business," Rivia shot back, her cold glare aimed directly at the director.

She saved the video before tucking her phone away, making her way out of the office with an icy demeanor that sent a shiver down the director's spine.

He was left trembling, utterly bewildered by her intentions regarding the recording.

---

"Good job, Rivia," Avendial said as he settled in beside the driver's seat of the Bugatti with her.

His gaze remained glued to the phone in her hands, leaving Rivia momentarily stunned by his presence.

thump thump

Blinking in disbelief, she straightened her posture, eager to start the car and ensure he wouldn't change his mind and return to the confines of the office where Aria sat waiting.

"Hello, I sent you the video. alter the dialogues of both individuals to match the script I attached," Avendial instructed, a smirk dancing on his lips and a glint in his eyes.

He then dialed a number from the Sertsul family, telling them to make additional changes to the video.

"Lower the quality, too; I want it to look as authentic as possible."