Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Chapter 1728: You’re Not a Machine

Villain Ch 1728. You’re Not a Machine

Allen smiled again. Not his fake one. The real kind. Quiet. Tired. Grateful.

“I did text. You were there.”

She gave him a look. “And I came to pick you up. So don’t forget that.”

“Duly noted.”

She fell silent for a while. Arms crossed, eyes staring out the window as the city lights blurred past them in streaks of gold and gray.

Then she huffed, low and annoyed. “I mean… sooner than this.”

Allen glanced at her, head tilted slightly. “No. This is soon already. Believe me. Most of the time I’d handle this alone.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “How?”

He leaned back in his seat, exhaled slowly. “There are a lot of ways.”

His voice dropped, quieter now, but edged with something colder.

“The most peaceful method,” he said, “is by climbing the Goldborne gate and slipping out before she notices.”

“And the others?” she asked, cautious.

He didn’t look at her this time. Just stared ahead, eyes fixed on nothing.

“The others are a bit harsh,” he said. “I’d use them if I weren’t a Goldborne. If I didn’t have to play the perfect son, the polished heir, the calm one who never breaks the rules.”

Zoe watched him carefully, her chest tightening.

“But since I am,” he added, finally turning toward her, eyes sharp and tired and honest, “I need to hold myself.”

And he said it like it was an oath. Or a burden. Or a chain.

Zoe didn’t answer right away. She looked at him, studied the way his jaw was locked tight, the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers drummed once against his knee—barely noticeable, like a reflex he hadn’t trained out of himself yet. For someone who always looked like he was in control, Allen was constantly holding back more than anyone realized.

“You always do that,” she said softly. “Hold yourself. Like the world’s going to fall apart if you don’t.”

He glanced at her again, brow twitching. “It might.”

She shook her head. “No. That’s not how it works. The world doesn’t fall apart when you break. It just reminds you you’re not a machine.”

Allen’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered behind his eyes. Something softer. It only lasted a second.

“I can’t afford to break,” he said.

“You’re not alone, Allen.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” she challenged gently. “Because sometimes it feels like you forget we’re still here. That I’m still here.”

That pulled him up short.

Allen looked at her. Really looked this time.

“I didn’t forget,” he said quietly. “I sent the text, didn’t I?”

They sat in silence again, the road stretching on outside the windows, city lights trailing like tired stars. The heat in the car wrapped around them.

But in his chest… the weight had lifted.

Not completely.

But enough.

Because yeah. He wasn’t alone in this.

He wasn’t the only one pulling threads behind curtains or smiling through teeth too tight with secrets.

And Sophia?

She could wait in the cold.

Let her watch the mansion lights flicker off one by one.

Let her wonder why Allen didn’t come home.

He was already somewhere warmer.

And far, far out of her reach.

The car rolled to a smooth stop in front of the private driveway—polished marble tiles that shimmered under warm, low garden lighting. Shea’s mansion wasn’t loud about its wealth. It didn’t need to be. The way the pillars curved, the glow of the crystal chandeliers through the sheer-draped windows, the subtle scent of night-blooming flowers wafting through the hedges.

The door opened before the driver could get out. Allen stepped down first, one hand in his pocket, the other flicking the crease of his jacket into place. Zoe slid out behind him, expression unreadable—but her eyes darted toward the entrance already. She knew.

Shea was waiting.

Standing beneath the gold-framed awning, flanked by two butlers dressed in midnight-blue uniforms, Shea looked radiant even in casual silk. Barefoot on the marble, long hair loose and gleaming in the moonlight, she looked more like a siren haunting a palace than a woman who ran an empire behind the curtain of a wine glass.

The moment she saw him, her eyes softened. Just a little. Just enough.

Then she moved.

“Ah, you’re safe,” she said, voice smooth and low as velvet, wrapping around him the way her arms did next—pulling him into a hug that was far too soft for someone with such sharp teeth.

Allen didn’t hug back right away. His arms hovered slightly before settling around her waist, just barely.

“I’m not in danger,” he muttered, quiet against her shoulder. “I just didn’t want to give her a stage.”

Shea pulled back, hands resting lightly on his arms. Her eyes flicked to his face, reading him like a script.

“Same thing,” she said with a smirk that didn’t reach her eyes yet. “Anything that makes you run to me counts as a kind of danger.”

Then her smile grew warmer. Playful. Intentional.

“But…” she purred, stepping back and taking his hand like it was already hers, “I suppose it’s fate that brought you here, to me, tonight.”

She turned to lead him inside, heels clicking softly against the marble, hair swaying like a dark ribbon in the wind.

“Come. I’ve already prepared some things for you. Healthy snacks. Drinks. A very warm robe.”

Allen blinked. “You stocked up like I was escaping prison.”

Shea looked over her shoulder and grinned. “Aren’t you?”

Zoe fell in behind them, her steps quieter, more guarded. She waited until they crossed into the warm interior—past the glow of antique lamps and the lingering scent of lemon verbena from the diffusers—before leaning in just slightly behind Allen.

“My mom looked way too happy when you said you needed help,” she whispered.

Allen didn’t look at her, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Did she?”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “She practically floated across the marble. I thought she was going to throw rose petals at your feet.”

“Maybe next time.”

They entered the main lounge—dark velvet furniture, soft throw blankets, and the kind of carpet you wanted to sink into forever.