Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1517

Chapter 1517: Urban War Zone
Villain Ch 1517. Urban War Zone

Mila’s car rolled slowly down the main street, barely inching forward. She sighed, head resting lightly against the window.

So close, yet so far.

The restaurant wasn’t even five blocks away.

And yet—here she was. Stuck. In traffic. Like every single car in the city decided to leave at the exact same time.

She huffed, glanced at her phone, then dropped it in her lap.

“Ugh,” she muttered, slumping a little deeper into the back seat.

Allen and Vivian were definitely already there. Probably sitting at a cozy booth in that softly-lit corner Blackstone liked to reserve for “preferred guests.” Maybe even sipping wine by now.

‘God, I should’ve asked for his number,’ Mila groaned internally. She didn’t know why she hadn’t. It would’ve made sense—after everything they talked about, after the way he had been so calm, so grounded, like nothing anyone said or did could shake him.

But no. She just waved and let him go. And now she couldn’t even text him to say she’d be late. Fantastic.

Her driver, Mr. Danan—a quiet, gray-haired man in his late fifties with the temperament of a monk—glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “Traffic’s heavier than usual today, Miss. I think there’s some construction further down.”

“Mm,” Mila replied with a half-smile, still glued to the unmoving road ahead. “Figures.”

There was a pause. Danan cleared his throat softly.

“If you don’t mind me asking… that woman earlier. The one at the parking lot. You didn’t look too pleased to see her.”

Mila blinked. “Oh.”

She considered brushing it off, but Danan had been driving for her family since she was in high school. He wasn’t just a driver. He was one of the few staff who didn’t talk behind people’s backs. And right now, talking felt… easier than sitting in awkward silence.

“She’s nobody,” Mila said finally, voice dry. “Just Allen’s ex.”

Danan raised his eyebrows. “Allen?”

“Allen Goldborne,” Mila clarified, brushing a hand through her hair like it would help get rid of the irritation lingering behind her ribs.

Danan’s expression shifted. “Ah. Mr. Goldborne. I see.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Forgive me, Miss, but… she didn’t seem like someone from that kind of background.”

“She’s not,” Mila said flatly. “Allen lived as an ordinary guy until recently. Found out he was a Goldborne just maybe a month ago.”

“So…” Danan mused, hands steady on the wheel. “His ex wants to come back now that he’s wealthy.”

Mila let out a sharp breath. “She already wanted to come back before the Goldborne news hit. That just made it worse.”

She looked out the window again, lips pressed into a thin line. “Honestly, it’s pathetic.”

The car finally inched forward, but only barely. Mila could see the restaurant’s rooftop sign in the distance now—mocking her with its proximity.

Danan nodded thoughtfully. “That woman. She seemed… determined.”

Mila scoffed. “Clingy is the better word. The kind of girl who latches on and doesn’t let go, even after she’s the one who walked away first.”

She didn’t realize how bitter she sounded until the words came out. But she didn’t walk it back. She didn’t want to.

There was another moment of silence, the kind that sat comfortably between people who didn’t need to fill it with nonsense.

Then Danan spoke again. “You like him.”

Mila blinked. “Excuse me?”

He chuckled. “I’ve been around you since your debut shoot. You only get like this when someone’s under your skin.”

Mila opened her mouth, ready to deflect, but the words just stalled there.

“…Yeah,” she said quietly. “I do.”

It was weird saying it aloud. Not because it was a secret—her crush on Allen was probably—but because it made it feel more real. More serious.

She wasn’t just dazzled by his face, or his new status. She liked how sharp he was. How he never folded under pressure. How he treated her like someone with a brain, not just a model to pose next to. How even when he was cold, there was a warmth buried somewhere under the surface if she looked close enough.

“It’s not just because he’s a Goldborne,” she added, as if she needed to clarify it for herself as much as for Danan. “I liked him before that. Back when he was just Allen.”

“I believe you,” Danan said simply.

She smiled faintly. “Thanks.”

The car finally pulled into the small lot beside the restaurant. Mila glanced at the time. She was nearly fifteen minutes late.

Not horrible.

But still—not what she wanted.

As soon as the car came to a stop, she unbuckled her seatbelt and grabbed her bag.

“Thank you for the ride,” she said quickly, already stepping out.

“Anytime, Miss Mila,” Danan said with a nod.

She walked briskly toward the front entrance, heels tapping against the cobblestone path. Inside, the restaurant smelled amazing—grilled steak, roasted garlic, buttery bread. The dim lighting made everything feel cozy and expensive.

A hostess approached her with a practiced smile. “Table for—?”

“I’m joining someone,” Mila said. “Mr.Goldborne.”

The hostess immediately brightened. “Right this way.”

As they weaved through the tables, Mila smoothed her jacket and tried to shake off the last traces of Sophia’s face from her mind.

She spotted them before they saw her.

Allen was sitting back, relaxed, one arm draped casually across the booth backrest. Vivian was laughing quietly, something about the way she leaned in making them look like a couple from a magazine. Allen said something—dry, probably sarcastic—and Vivian gave him a little shove.

They looked good together.

Of course they did.

Mila inhaled once, centered herself, then walked forward with a light smile.

Allen looked up and spotted her first.

“There she is,” he said smoothly. “We were about to order without you.”

“Please don’t,” Mila said as she slipped into the seat beside them. “I had to survive an urban war zone to get here.”

Vivian raised an eyebrow. “Traffic?”

“Horrible,” Mila confirmed. “Also… I hate not having Allen’s number. I couldn’t even warn you.”

Allen shrugged. “You can have it now.”

Mila blinked. “Just like that?”

“You survived a war zone,” Allen said, handing her his phone. “That earns at least one contact.”