Novel Full Chapter 1720: Invisible Exam
Chapter 1720: Invisible Exam
Villain Ch 1720. Invisible Exam
Jordan sat back slightly, finally letting the air ease. “You’re in a position of power now, Azura. Information is power. So is restraint. I’ve seen leaders destroyed not by their enemies, but by their own need to shout.”
Emma nodded slowly. “That’s why he runs half the world.”
Allen finally spoke again. “You did well,” he said, voice low. “With the duel. With tonight.”
Azura turned to him, wary. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not,” he said, gaze steady. “I meant it.”
Something in her chest pulled taut again.
Jordan watched them both carefully, as if studying a flame flickering too close to a curtain. Then, at last, he waved a hand toward the hall.
“Kai.”
Kai reappeared instantly. Azura half-wondered if he’d just been standing behind a curtain with his eyes closed, waiting for a psychic cue.
“You may bring the food now,” Jordan said.
Kai bowed, and the air softened again.
Emma slumped with a sigh. “Okay. That was tense. I felt like I was in one of your meetings.”
“You were,” Jordan said. “Just with less paperwork.”
Azura looked down at her fork. It felt heavier than before. Or maybe her hand was just shaking a bit. Not from fear. But from knowing she’d just passed some invisible exam.
And she had no idea what the reward—or punishment—was.
The dinner trays arrived soon after. Roasted meats in aromatic sauce. Soft dumplings with gold flecks. Truffle salad. Everything smelled expensive, indulgent, unreal.
Azura took a bite and barely tasted it. Her mind was still spinning.
Allen leaned a little closer.
“You okay?” he asked under his breath.
She didn’t answer right away. Just stared at her plate, voice soft. “Not really.”
“Want to leave?”
She shook her head.
“No. I want to understand what comes next.”
Allen smiled slowly. “Then keep eating. You’re already at the table.”
She glanced up at him.
And in that one second, it hit her again.
He wasn’t just Allen anymore.
He was the Emperor.
And somehow—terrifyingly, recklessly—she was still sitting beside him.
Still wanting to stay.
Azura barely registered the taste of the next bite. Something with rosemary and honey glaze, probably—melted softly on her tongue and vanished like it didn’t dare linger in the middle of this quiet warzone of a dinner.
Her mind kept looping.
Not over Jordan’s test. Not even over the fact that Allen had been the Devil Emperor all along. No. It was the line he dropped earlier, casual as a napalm bomb.
“Depends if she wants to walk out of the mansion with a boyfriend or not.”
She thought he was joking.
She hoped he was joking.
And yet, every time her eyes flicked toward him—his completely relaxed posture, the infuriating way he sipped his tea like none of this meant anything—she knew he wasn’t.
Allen didn’t bluff. He didn’t tease like a schoolboy trying to get a rise. No, when he flirted, it felt like being lured into a trap lined with silk and shadow. The kind you didn’t want to escape from even after you realized the door had vanished behind you.
Her fork clicked against the plate as she exhaled slowly.
Allen glanced at her, then, almost like he could hear her spiraling.
“Tell me your answer,” he said under his breath, just loud enough for her ears alone, “before you leave.”
Her hand froze mid-lift.
Her breath caught.
There was a difference in his voice now—less smug, more anchored. Less playful. More real. And that made it worse. Because if he had been teasing, she could’ve laughed it off. But he wasn’t.
Azura didn’t answer. Not immediately. Because answering would mean choosing. Would mean pulling herself out of this awkward, in-between comfort zone where she could pretend nothing changed.
And everything had.
She didn’t even realize she’d been staring at him too long until Emma cleared her throat loudly.
“So,” she said, flopping dramatically against the back of her chair like she was performing a soliloquy. “Dad. How was work?”
Jordan, still cutting his steak with slow precision, gave her a sidelong glance. “Mild day. A family tried to fraud me. I destroyed their reputation and made the police handled them.”
Emma blinked. “Like… for lunch?”
“Before lunch,” Jordan replied, tone bone-dry. “I had soup afterward.”
Allen lifted a brow. “Was it the Verde family?”
“Yes,” Jordan replied without pause, his tone clipped and clean like a finished report.
Azura blinked. “Wait, the Verde family? Weren’t they backing that luxury cosmetics brand in the west region?”
“Yes. They were trying to expand into gaming. Funneled their money through three shell companies tied to black market item laundering. Their contracts got too aggressive.”
Emma leaned back in her seat. “So you collapsed a multi-generational empire before soup?”
“It was overdue,” Jordan said simply.
Allen hummed, amused. “Their lawyers must still be crying.”
“They shouldn’t have drafted their contracts using my own template,” Jordan added with a faint shrug. “If you copy from a shark, expect to bleed.” He smirked.
Then he turned his gaze to Emma with that casual but deadly fatherly precision. “And you? How was your day?”
Emma groaned instantly, stabbing her sorbet like it owed her taxes. “I spent my whole afternoon calculating multi-channel ad budget projections for twelve simulated companies. Then cross-checking cash flow forecasts for one of them against six months of random event logs.”
Azura blinked. “That sounds like torture.”
Emma leaned back with a theatrical whine. “It was torture. And for what? So I can model a fake bakery’s profit margin based on three random influencer promos and a power outage?”
Jordan took a calm sip of wine. “It’s basic market simulation. If you can’t balance a bakery, you can’t balance a city.”
“You say that like I’m gonna manage an empire tomorrow.”
“You might.”
Emma gawked. “Dad!”
Jordan didn’t flinch. He simply glanced her way with the same cool that could freeze a boardroom mid-sentence. “Your name carries weight. You should know how to control it.”
“I’m not a stock portfolio,” she grumbled, jabbing her sorbet.
“No. But you are a Goldborne,” he replied. “Which means you’re overdue to start thinking like one.”
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