Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1552

Chapter 1552: I See It Too
Villain Ch 1552. I See It Too

The dinner wound down in comfortable silence, with plates cleared away and warm tea served as a closing ritual.

Allen offered a polite nod to Kai, and a tired half-smile to Emma, who was now dramatically fighting off a dessert coma on the plush settee nearby.

He didn’t say much as he stood and left the dining room. He didn’t have to.

His steps down the hall were slow, steady. Not sluggish, not sharp. Just… relaxed. Like he’d let go of something he’d been gripping too tightly for too long. The kind of walk that said, ‘I’m giving myself permission to live slow tonight.’

The air outside his room was cooler. Still. A little cleaner, the scent of fresh linen drifting from the open windows where house staff had turned down the hall lights for the night. His phone buzzed again—but it was just a system notification. He ignored it.

The earlier text from his stepdad still echoed faintly in the back of his mind, but Allen… he’d won that round.

Right there at the dinner table.

He’d told himself to keep it together. He did. He faked a grin, chewed his food, cracked a joke. Maybe that was a defense mechanism. Maybe it was self-control. Either way—it worked. He’d kept the rage locked down, kept the pain in check, and nobody saw him fall apart.

And that…

That was something to be proud of.

Even if it wasn’t healthy.

Even if it hurt a little.

Just as his hand reached for the doorknob to his room, footsteps echoed down the hall behind him—polished shoes on marble, quick and measured.

He sighed softly, already guessing. “Emma, if you’re here to convince me to install bubble wands in my throne room, I swear to God—”

“It’s not Miss Emma, sir.”

Allen turned his head.

Alex.

Calm as always, like he’d materialized out of pure professionalism.

“Your father asked to see you in his room,” Alex said with that low, modulated tone that gave nothing away.

Allen raised an eyebrow. “Dad? What’s wrong? That’s… not exactly standard protocol.”

Alex gave a small nod. “I don’t know, sir. I was only instructed to escort you.”

Allen exhaled through his nose and looked at the door to his room—so close, so inviting—before nodding slowly. “Alright. Lead the way.”

They walked side by side down another wing of the house. The lighting changed here. Warmer. Dimmer. Less opulent. Less for show. The rugs were thicker. The walls, lined with old books and artifacts—most of which Allen had never seen before. Not quite cold, not quite homey. Just… private.

And Allen already knew what this was about.

It had to be the text.

Still, he followed. Quiet. Calm.

Because there was nothing left to argue.

He had blocked his stepdad. That was final. Evan wasn’t a snitch. If anyone knew what silence meant, it was that kid. He wouldn’t tell Carla. Wouldn’t cause ripples. And as for Carla—well… Allen wouldn’t be surprised if the bastard had blocked Allen’s number in her phone himself. Again. Wouldn’t be the first time.

It didn’t matter anymore.

They didn’t want him.

And he had stopped wanting them back.

Alex stopped in front of a tall, dark door with a matte brass handle. Polished. Heavy. Private.

He opened it with one simple motion and gave a light nod. “He’s inside.”

Allen stepped in.

Alex closed the door behind him with a quiet click.

This was Allen’s first time seeing Jordan’s private quarters.

The room was large but minimal. Neat, sharp lines defined the space. The lighting was warm but indirect, cast from wall-mounted fixtures that glowed softly like enchanted flame. A desk sat near the window, wide and clean, flanked by two massive curved monitors—one showing a live financial dashboard, the other muted news feeds flickering between global events and gaming analytics.

A few old photographs stood at the edge of the desk. None with Allen in them.

Jordan stood near the window, hands behind his back, posture like he was waiting for a report. He didn’t turn around.

Allen cleared his throat. “You wanted to see me?”

Jordan glanced over his shoulder. “Come in. Sit down.”

Allen moved toward one of the leather chairs across from the desk and sat slowly. It was firm. Comfortable. The kind of chair people had power meetings in.

Jordan finally turned and joined him. No wine glass now. No tablet. Just him—clean, calm, and unreadable.

“I didn’t want to bring it up at the table,” Jordan said, folding his hands on the desk. “But I couldn’t let it go.”

Allen sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Figured it was about the text.”

Jordan nodded once, his gaze sharp, studying him like he was trying to read every unsaid word off Allen’s face.

“You look troubled,” he said evenly. “Did he… threaten you? Or something like that?”

Allen snorted softly. “No. You know threats don’t work on me.” His voice was steady, but there was a tiredness there.

Jordan leaned slightly forward, fingers folding together on the desk. “You said earlier that your mother… sometimes has breakdowns.” His tone was softer now, probing but not harsh. “Can you tell me more about that?”

Allen didn’t answer right away.

His fingers tapped once against the edge of the armrest. His eyes dropped to the floor, watching the way the lamplight hit the wooden grain like shifting shadows.

Finally, he said, “What I know… she regrets what happened twenty years ago.”

Jordan was silent. Letting him speak. Not pushing. Just listening.

Allen exhaled slowly. “She told me once that it ruined her life. Not even in anger.” He laughed quietly, bitter and thin. “She said it like it was just a fact. Like telling me the weather.”

Jordan’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t speak.

Allen continued. “I guess that’s why my stepdad always says I’m a mistake. That I’m the reason she’s not happy. That I’m the source of her sadness.” His voice lowered. “And the thing is… sometimes she looks at me, and I see it too.”

The room was too quiet. The hum from the monitors, the ticking clock on the far wall—it all felt loud now.

Allen sat back up slowly. His eyes were clearer but tired. “But… it’s over. So I don’t think it’s necessary to dig it up again.”