Villain’s Favorite 237

Chapter 237 The Savior Complex 

George felt like he’d swallowed a bottle of whiskey in one gulp-dizzy, dazed, drunk on something he couldn’t name. 

Panic. Confusion. Joy. A tidal wave of emotions nearly buried him alive. 

He’d been wrong. 

He admitted it. He realized now that he’d only been pretending back there. 

Deep down, he really did have a thing about being saved. 

He really was good at comforting people. 

Not in Toby’s awkward, roundabout way. George was direct, open, sincere. 

Kneeling on the cold floor, he leaned in until his forehead touched hers-gently, the way you’d nuzzle a baby animal. Soft strands of hair brushed across her brow. 

Most kids loved that kind of head-bumping game. 

And that was exactly how he was treating her-like a cub in need of soothing. 

His smile didn’t quite come together. His lips were curved, but his eyes were damp. The two expressions clashed in a way that looked oddly off. 

One hand patted her gently while he murmured comfort, the other carefully checking her over from head 

to toe. 

It was winter. Her hands were cold. Her neck was cold. Even her breath came out cold. 

She’d been out here for hours-crouching in position since the dead of night, all the way to dawn. That kind of endurance test was brutal on both willpower and body. 

Maya was wrapped in his arms, round eyes blinking. The tears stopped instantly. 

She was easy to soothe, at least. 

George’s voice turned feather-light, as if afraid of scaring her. He touched her cheek-ice cold. “Maya, where did you find this kind of courage?” 

If a stranger had saved him, he’d have thought “what a nice person” and moved on without a second thought. 

But she wasn’t a stranger. 

She was the sister he was supposed to protect. 

So, even if she’d failed spectacularly and botched everything, just the act of stepping up would have been enough to stun him. 

1/3 

10:18 Tue, May 12 

Chapter 237 The Savior Complex 

Simply showing up was already brave. Already incredible. 

He lowered his head and wrapped her tightly in his clean jacket. 

He’d thought ahead, actually-grabbing a fresh coat before leaving the apartment, originally so the sniper and gunmen wouldn’t be able to identify him by the bloodstains. 

Now, he was just grateful it was clean, so he could bundle her up without any trace of what had happened. 

Because bloodstains would definitely gross her out. 

George’s body was warm. The jacket still carried his heat. 

Maya, frozen to the bone, burrowed straight into his chest, face pressed into the crook of his shoulder. Her voice had that post-crying rasp-sandpaper-rough through the nose. 

And she asked the question that mattered most: 

“George… am I going to jail?” 

“No.” 

“Really?” 

“Edric won’t arrest me?” 

“He only likes arresting me.” 

Maya went quiet for a moment. Then, from somewhere inside his arms, she made a sound that couldn’t decide if it was a laugh or a sob. 

She cleared her throat, trying to make her voice sound somewhat normal. 

“George, I wasn’t a coward today.” 

“Mm. You’re my savior.” George tilted his head and pressed his cheek lightly against hers. 

Wet tear tracks transferred onto his face. 

He didn’t wipe them off. He let them stay. 

George wasn’t blind to other people’s sacrifices. 

Liam had tolerated him, and George had tolerated Liam in return. No matter how much Liam lectured or criticized, George had never minded. Even the knife-he’d have felt a moment of surprise, nothing more. No big emotional upheaval. 

George had always believed that anything lost could simply be replaced. 

When he was small, living with Edric, a pet had died. Edric was devastated-crying, inconsolable. George had smiled and suggested they get a new one. 

In his barren emotional landscape, people and pets alike were more or less interchangeable beyond their 

2/3 

Chapter 237 The Savior Complex 

appearances. So why grieve? 

Tears were pointless. Sadness felt like a waste. 

10 

Finisher 

Wendy had heard that philosophy and responded, “But sweetheart, if you can’t even feel sadness, what will your life have left?” 

George had shaken his head and said he didn’t know. 

Nothing brought him lasting joy. He’d tried all kinds of things. A moment of thrill, then a long, hollow nothing. 

Happiness couldn’t fill him. Neither could sorrow. 

And yet, somehow, even someone as emotionally barren as he was wanted to cry over what she’d done. 

“I used to believe that anyone could be replaced by anyone else.” Which was why George had once considered that killing Maya would simply produce a new Maya. 

“Who says? Mom told me I’m one of a kind. Flawless.” 

Maya shot back without hesitation. 

He smiled. 

“Yeah. You’re irreplaceable.” 

“One in all the world.” 

Maya immediately squirmed at the praise. She bit her finger, thinking. 

Since when was his emotional intelligence this high? 

1.0K 

+ 

admind