Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1551

Chapter 1551: Who?
Villain Ch 1551. Who?

Kai stood ready with the plated dessert—molten chocolate soufflé with spun sugar and gold leaf. Over the top, ridiculous, and exactly what they needed.

Allen sat back down. Picked up his fork.

Emma followed, cheerful again, like she hadn’t just watched her brother mentally throw hands with his past.

Jordan leaned back in his seat, eyes on Allen for a moment longer, before saying softly, “Welcome back.”

Allen stabbed into the soufflé and let the chocolate ooze out in a slow, molten ribbon. He took a bite.

Sweet.

Warm.

Rich.

Bittersweet.

He chewed slow. Swallowed slower. Tried to ground himself in the taste. The silky texture. The subtle crunch of the sugar shell. The faint scent of burnt caramel lacing the air. It was everything a dessert was supposed to be.

And yet… it couldn’t quite chase the aftertaste of that message out of his mouth.

Jordan glanced up from his plate. “Who was that?”

Allen didn’t look up right away. Just took another bite.

“You rarely put that face on,” Jordan added, voice low. Calm. But not casual.

Allen’s jaw tightened a little. “No one important. I’ve already blocked him.”

Jordan narrowed his eyes—not in anger, but in that sharp way he had when he smelled bullshit.

“My question was: who?”

Allen froze with his spoon halfway back to the plate.

He’d seen Jordan mad before. Sarcastic. Dismissive. Cold. But this—this wasn’t any of those. This was sharp. Quiet. Almost surgical.

Allen swallowed. Looked up.

And said, “My stepdad.”

Jordan set his utensils down in absolute silence. The clink was too polite, too deliberate. He didn’t even glance at Alex, who shifted slightly behind him as if waiting for an order.

“He texted you?” Jordan asked.

“Yeah.” Allen leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. “About Mom.”

Emma looked up mid-chew. “Your mom?”

Allen nodded slowly. “She called me yesterday. After she figured out I was a Goldborne. And because I invited Evan to the last conference.”

Jordan’s jaw tightened. “Go on.”

Allen exhaled hard through his nose. “He thought I was the one who contacted her first. He texted me saying she was crying.”

Emma blinked, confused. “Your mom was crying? Wait, was it because you invited Evan? Or… because she found out who you really are?”

Jordan leaned back, fingers pressed together like he was fitting pieces into a puzzle. “I had Alex reach out to her. Just in case she ever wanted to talk to me.”

Emma turned to him, eyebrows lifting. “You never told us you were a Goldborne, Dad.”

Jordan didn’t flinch. “Didn’t see the point.”

Allen let the silence sit for a second. Then, almost like he was trying to put it into words even he didn’t fully get, he said, “She cries sometimes. For no reason. Or maybe for all the reasons. I don’t know. She… she’s always been like that.”

His spoon clinked back against the plate. He stared at the chocolate, half-melted now. “Maybe she really does think I’m a mistake.”

Emma looked like she wanted to say something. Maybe a joke, maybe comfort. But whatever it was got stuck in her throat.

Allen shook his head, like he could physically knock the thought away, and picked his spoon up again. He kept eating—calmly, quietly. Like that was it. Like that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

But it was the signal.

Jordan cleared his throat and set his posture straight, chair creaking faintly. “We’ll drop this conversation.”

He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t scold. Just shifted the atmosphere with a single sentence.

“It’s not something we should talk about at the dining table.”

Emma nodded right away. “Agree.”

The room breathed again. The soft clinks of silverware resumed. The smell of cocoa and toasted sugar still hung heavy in the air, and Allen went right back to eating like he hadn’t just thrown a piece of his soul on the table.

They changed the subject.

Emma cracked a joke about how she’d beat them all in the next raid. Alex politely mentioned a minor stock market fluctuation that might benefit their tech shares. Jordan entertained a discussion about the devs ‘ ideas about new dungeon AI routines.

Allen replied. He joked back. Even threw in a smirk.

But Jordan watched him.

Watched the way Allen moved. The way he didn’t tap his fingers like he usually did when distracted. The way he didn’t lean into his chair as much. The way his eyes didn’t quite light up when Emma teased him.

Jordan had built empires off of reading people. And Allen—his son—was bleeding through the cracks no matter how clean the smile.

Jordan didn’t speak. Didn’t press. Not here.

But the calculation in his eyes said everything.

He’d seen it.

He’d filed it.

And he was already preparing his next move.

Allen didn’t notice. Or maybe he did.

But he didn’t care.

Because right now, he was tired.

Tired of the past crawling back with claws. Tired of remembering how it felt to be treated like a backup file no one wanted to open. Tired of pretending it didn’t matter when it still echoed in his bones.

He poked his fork at the last bite of soufflé. Let the sugar stick to the roof of his mouth. Let the silence return to normal.

But that voice. That text.

‘You are a mistake.’

That still echoed.

And even now, surrounded by absurd luxury, warm food, and weird but strangely loyal family—he felt it under his skin.

A glitch.

An unwanted patch in someone else’s perfect build.

But maybe…

Just maybe…

That was what made him dangerous.

Because he didn’t control something he cast out.

He survived it.

He owned it.

He make it into his goddamn throne.

Allen looked up. Smiled at Emma.

“I’m gonna destroy the leaderboard next week,” he said casually, as if nothing had happened.

Emma grinned, mouth full of chocolate. “Bring it on, boss boy.”

Jordan sipped his wine without breaking eye contact.

‘Yes… I think I need to talk to him,’ Jordan thought.