Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Hearing Harold's voice, Andrew immediately went pale with fear and quickly removed his hand from Ashley's waist. "F-father," he stammered, his entire body going stiff.

Ashley also tensed up, her expression shifting to one of concern as she inched away from Andrew, just as Harold walked into the room and began approaching the bed.

As Harold came to the other side of the bed, Andrew tried to conjure up an explanation. "Father, Ashley was just—"

*Pa!*

Before he could finish his sentence, Harold smacked the side of Andrew's face with the back of his hand.

This action caused Ashley to flinch and take a step back, dropping the pudding as she did. Andrew used his good hand to hold the side Harold had just slapped, looking fearful. His eyes were trembling as he moved his body away a little.

Harold just stared at him with a look of disappointment before asking, "What is so hard about following instructions? Hmm?"

Andrew hesitated to answer, his mouth opening but no words coming out. Ashley looked at Andrew with worry and tried to help, saying, "Uhm, Mr. Barclay, it's not Andrew's fault, I—"

Before she could finish, Harold raised his head to look at her with the same intense gaze he'd given Andrew. She immediately stopped speaking and lowered her head, not daring to meet his gaze.

However, Harold took on a more gentle tone with her.

"I don't blame you for wanting to see your boyfriend," he told her. "After all, it's only right that you care for his well-being. But I gave him clear instructions that he disobeyed. Out of respect for your father, I see this as an accident, but I don't expect a next time."

Although Harold's tone was less stern, it still made both Ashley and Andrew swallow hard. Ashley just held her hands nervously and nodded before muttering, "I understand."

Harold gave a small nod. "Good. Now, please leave."

Ashley bit her lip nervously before hurriedly picking up her bag from the chair near the bed. She gave Andrew a quick glance and said, "Get well soon," before rushing out of the room.

Andrew watched her leave with a helpless look.

Harold sighed, placing his hands in his pockets and shaking his head as if greatly disappointed. "Look at you—pathetic. Count yourself lucky that I have other matters to attend to."

After saying this, Harold turned to leave without sparing Andrew a second glance.

Andrew could only watch his father leave, indignation building in his heart. He, too, had seen the evaluation and how Don had captured the hearts of countless fans, and it made him absolutely furious.

He could only find comfort in the company of his girlfriend, and even that was taken away from him.

"Dammit!" In a fit of rage, Andrew angrily tossed his pillows off the bed.

Back at the Brights' residence, Don wrapped up his call with Elle after a long conversation about potential challenges they might encounter in their mission to take over the city.

Elle had expressed several concerns, but Don kept his responses light, either reassuring her with a quick joke or offering suggestions to ease her mind.

Throughout, Elle's face beamed with an occasional bashful smile, her cheeks pink each time he slipped in a compliment. When the conversation naturally wound down, Don mentioned he thought dinner was ready and that he had to go eat.

This made Elle's smile falter, just barely, and she blinked, her face softening with a faint look of disappointment, though she didn't try to hold him back.

Instead, she gave a hesitant smile and said, "That's fine. I should probably get back to work anyway, try to push the sale of the base through quickly." Her voice carried an almost eager note at the thought of being closer to him, her eyes momentarily lighting up again.

Don nodded with a satisfied smile, his voice gentle as he replied, "Alright, I'll catch up with you later then." Elle nodded shyly, whispering a soft goodbye before he ended the call.

As the screen darkened, he stood up from his bed, heaving a sigh of relief as he thought,

'That went pretty well.'

He removed the earbud from his ear, tucking it back into its case before heading out of his room and downstairs.

As he reached the bottom, he could hear the clinking of dishes and the low hum of conversation coming from the kitchen.

Stepping into the warm light of the kitchen, he found Amanda and Winter plating a spread of food, filling the place with rich aromas.

The counter was lined with a variety of dishes—crispy roasted chicken, seasoned rice, meatballs, creamy mashed potatoes with a sprinkling of herbs, a colorful salad, and even homemade garlic bread.

Amanda noticed him first, lifting her head as she set down a plate.

"Oh, look who's here! Did the smell bring you in?" she teased with a smirk.

Don's lips curved into a smirk of his own as he stepped forward, hands in his pockets. "Yeah, it's hard to ignore that wonderful smell. I'm starving. You two all finished up?"

Amanda nodded, planting her hands on her hips as she looked over their handiwork with a pleased smile. "Pretty much done. I wanted to make more, but I think this will do since Samantha should be here soon."

Just as she mentioned Samantha, Don's ears picked up the faint hum of an engine pulling up outside.

He recognized it as Samantha's car, but he was caught off guard by a second, unfamiliar vehicle trailing behind hers. He furrowed his brow, but he chose not to mention it.

Instead, he glanced back at Amanda and remarked, "Guess I'll go ahead and serve the table then. You planning to eat in your farm clothes?" He asked in an amused tone as he eyed her slightly dusty jeans and flannel shirt.

Amanda's eyes widened, and she glanced down at herself, letting out an exasperated laugh. "Oh, shoot, you're right!" She set the last plate down and gestured to the table. "Alright, food's all plated, so just set it out. Thanks, sweetie!"

She brushed past him, pausing only to give him a quick peck on the cheek before hurrying toward the stairs. "I'll grab a quick shower!" she called back.

Don chuckled to himself, watching her disappear up the staircase before turning back to the kitchen.

His gaze shifted to Winter, who was carefully arranging utensils on the plates. He tilted his head and asked, "So, did anything interesting happen while you were at the farm?"

Winter's head tilted slightly in thought. "That depends. Interesting can be subjective. If you specify parameters, I could better tailor a response. Alternatively, I could prepare an extensive report if that is preferable." Her tone was even, but it sounded a little different.

Don was about to respond when he heard the sound of the front door opening. He held up a hand to Winter. "Hold that thought." Turning, he moved toward the hallway, but as he stepped into view of the entryway, he was met with an unexpected sight.

Samantha entered first, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor as she carried a few folders in her arms, her face looking a bit weary from the day.

But just behind her was another familiar figure: Ms. Claire, her eyes scanning the interior with a polite curiosity as she stepped inside.

'Well, this is a surprise,'

Don thought, arching a brow as he approached.

Samantha spotted him first, her tired face brightening with a smile as she said, "Hey there, sweetie. Guess who decided to join us for dinner?"