Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1518

Chapter 1518: I’m Done Handing Out Warnings
Villain Ch 1518. I’m Done Handing Out Warnings

Mila laughed, fingers brushing his for a second longer than necessary as she took the phone and typed in her number.

Vivian smirked but said nothing.

Mila handed Allen’s phone back, a slight flush rising in her cheeks. She’d just saved his number—quick, subtle, but also… kind of a moment.

He took the phone without a word, thumbed it once to check, then pocketed it again.

“You might want to keep that a secret from your brother,” Allen said casually, eyes flicking to her with that calm, knowing gaze. “And James.”

Mila blinked. “You think I want them to know?”

Allen raised an eyebrow. “You know how they get.”

She groaned, already regretting the mental image. “Ugh. James would go full interrogation, and Noah would probably try to use me. Again.”

“Use you how?” Vivian asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mila sighed, rolling her eyes. “He once tried to set me up with his business partner just to land a deal.”

Allen blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yep,” she said dryly. “And James just hounded me with a hundred questions about whether I was emotionally prepared to date again. Like I was applying for a clearance badge.”

“Tough crowd,” Allen muttered with a smirk.

“Seriously,” she muttered, then leaned forward a little, lowering her voice. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell them. Not unless you want to watch Noah pretend to be my personal bodyguard every time you breathe near me.”

Allen smiled faintly. “Yeah, let’s skip that.”

Just then, the waiter arrived—young, early twenties, with a notepad tucked under one arm and a nervous smile like he wasn’t sure if they were celebrities or just rich. Probably both.

“Uh—welcome to Blackstone. Can I get you all started with something to drink?”

Allen glanced between the two girls. “Sparkling or still?”

“Still,” Vivian replied.

“Same,” Mila said.

Allen nodded to the waiter. “Three still waters. One lemon slice for her,” he added, tipping his head toward Vivian.

She blinked, surprised. “How’d you know I do that?”

Allen shrugged, eyes on the menu. “You asked for lemon at the café last month. I remember things.”

Vivian tried very hard not to melt into the leather booth. “Right. Thanks.”

The waiter scribbled, then cleared his throat. “Are you ready to order, or should I come back?”

Vivian closed her menu without hesitation. “The wagyu ribeye. Medium rare. Truffle mash instead of fries.”

Allen folded his menu next. “Same cut. Rare. Extra garlic butter on the side.”

Mila hesitated, scanning the list one more time. “Can I get the prime sirloin? Medium. With chimichurri and roasted potatoes.”

“Of course,” the waiter said, scribbling again. “And everything will come out together.”

“Perfect,” Allen replied.

The waiter gave a polite bow and disappeared toward the kitchen, the soft clink of plates and low hum of conversation filling the warm space around them. The scent of seared meat and rosemary already hung heavy in the air, mixing with the faint flicker of candlelight from the table centerpiece.

Mila exhaled, letting herself sink into the atmosphere for a moment.

Cozy.

Grounding.

She picked up her water glass—already half full—and swirled it absently before saying, “So… I ran into Sophia.”

Allen’s brows lifted slightly. Vivian’s expression froze for just a second.

“She was at the agency?” Vivian asked, calm but clearly alert.

Mila nodded, fingers tightening slightly around the glass. “She came out of the elevator right after you left. I think she expected to see Allen there.”

Vivian leaned in slightly. “Did she say anything?”

“She didn’t have to,” Mila muttered. “She looked like she was about to bite someone.”

Allen looked thoughtful. “Did she see you getting into the car?”

“Oh yeah,” Mila said, a little edge in her voice now. “She stared like I stole something. Then pretended to look around like she wasn’t obviously searching for you.”

Vivian rolled her eyes. “Of course she was. Bell probably told her nothing, and now she’s spiraling.”

Mila exhaled, then leaned forward, resting her elbows gently on the table. “She asked if I knew who the guest was. I lied. Told her I was just there for a shoot.”

Allen gave a nod of approval. “Smart.”

“I just… I know she’s digging,” Mila said, quieter now. “She thinks you’re still within reach. And I’m not sure how far she’s willing to go.”

Vivian raised an eyebrow. “Far. She’s the type who takes rejection as a challenge.”

“Exactly,” Mila said, tension bubbling under her skin again. “And I don’t think she believes Bell anymore. She looked—off. Paranoid.”

Allen stayed quiet for a moment, fingers tracing the rim of his water glass. “She probably felt it the moment I left. Gut instinct. And she’s not wrong… but that doesn’t mean she can do anything about it.”

Mila’s gaze dropped for a second. “Still. The way she looked at me… it wasn’t just jealousy.”

Vivian glanced between them, then leaned back in her seat. “She’s scared of losing her grip on him. And you walking out of that elevator instead of her? That’s a crack in the illusion she’s been clinging to.”

“Let it crack,” Allen said quietly. “If she’s still hoping I’ll crawl back, that’s on her. I’m done handing out warnings.”

Mila swallowed. “She’s going to throw a fit.”

“She already has,” Allen replied. “That’s how we got here in the first place.”

Vivian smirked again. “Well, then I guess Mila just took a VIP spot in her nightmares.”

Mila laughed, the sound short but honest. “Lucky me.”

Allen gave her a look—warm, approving. “You handled it well.”

Mila shrugged, cheeks warming again. “Didn’t really do anything.”

“Sometimes not doing anything is the best move,” he said simply. “It leaves them guessing.”

Their food arrived a few moments later—sizzling plates placed carefully on the table, rich with the smell of butter, seared meat, and truffle oil. The waiter refilled their waters and vanished again.

Mila stared at her plate for a moment before picking up her fork.

“This smells amazing,” she muttered.

“Worth the traffic?” Allen teased.

She smirked. “Barely.”

Vivian raised her glass. “To traffic, fake smiles, and awkward elevator run-ins.”

Allen lifted his. “And to not being anyone’s stepping stone.”

Mila hesitated for a second, then clinked her glass against theirs. “And to playing the long game.”