Novel Full Chapter 1855: Domestic
Chapter 1855: Domestic
Villain Ch 1855. Domestic
Allen, meanwhile?
Still hadn’t acknowledged them.
He hummed quietly to himself, moving with that calm that should’ve been illegal. The low rhythm of the lo-fi beat wrapped around him like a slow dance—soft bass, lazy saxophone, the occasional cymbal brush like a sigh.
He placed the cut fruit into little glass bowls—delicate hands, almost reverent. A swirl of whipped cream here. A sprig of mint there. A drizzle of honey that glistened like liquid gold.
He looked like something from a chef thirst trap compilation.
Then.
Then he took it further.
He picked up a strawberry.
Bright red. Juicy. Already dangerous.
And instead of biting it like a normal human being—
He dipped it in the whipped cream.
Paused.
Then his tongue came out.
Slow.
Methodical.
He licked the cream off.
Swirled his tongue around the tip like he was savoring a forbidden flavor.
Only after the cream was gone did he lean in and bite the strawberry—slowly, gently, like the berry was shy and needed reassurance first.
The sound of that bite echoed in their heads.
And across the hallway?
The girls froze.
Vivian clutched the doorframe.
Zoe’s soul left her body.
Shea let out a very soft “oh no.”
Bella turned red.
Larissa blinked like her brain rebooted.
Jane bit her lip.
Alice physically stepped back.
Azura audibly gasped and then slapped both hands over her mouth, horrified.
Nobody said a word.
Because they all just imagined something.
Something very specific.
Something not even remotely food-related.
And they all knew they were thinking it.
Even if no one dared to say it.
Allen, of course, wiped a tiny dot of cream from his thumb and sucked it off like it was no big deal.
Like he didn’t just short-circuit the collective nervous system of eight highly suggestible women.
And then—
Then he finally turned.
“Hey,” he said casually, like he hadn’t just melted every one of their internal systems. “I’m almost done. You can come in.”
The smile.
Soft. Gentle.
Deadly.
The apron hugged his waist. His sleeves were pushed just right. His expression? Kind. Domestic. Oblivious.
And that?
That look?
That was the kill shot.
Azura’s voice cracked. “Wh-what is happening?”
Vivian muttered, “I’ve never been more confused and turned on in my life.”
Zoe stared ahead like she was dissociating. “I’m gonna go pray. I don’t know to who yet.”
Alice squeaked, “He really doesn’t know, does he?”
Jane whispered, “Or he does. And this is his revenge.”
Larissa took a slow sip of wine and nodded. “If this is war… I surrender.”
They filed in slowly, like deer caught in some kind of bakery-themed hypnosis.
“I thought you said light,” Zoe whispered.
He nodded. “It is. Just fruit and cream. Maybe a little honey.”
“Why are you making it look like foreplay?” Bella muttered.
“I’m just cooking.” Allen tilted his head. “I wanted to do something nice.”
Vivian whispered, “Why does that sound like a threat?”
Jane whispered back, “Because we’re weak.”
Azura sat down slowly, eyes still wide.
He placed her bowl in front of her with a quiet smile.
“Here you go.”
“Th-thank you.”
He went down the line, placing each bowl gently like he was serving royalty.
Shea blinked at hers. “It’s so pretty. Do I have to ruin it?”
“You don’t have to eat it,” Allen said. “But I did make it with love.”
Vivian snorted. “Is that what we’re calling whipped cream and honey now?”
Allen just smiled and licked a little dab of cream from his thumb.
Again.
Zoe dropped her spoon. “Okay. Stop that.”
“What?”
“You know what.”
“I really don’t,” he said innocently. “I’m just being sweet. Like you all were at lunch.”
All of them froze.
Not one of them moved. Not a breath, not a blink. Just the kind of stillness that happens when your brain crashes mid-update.
Because Allen said it with that voice.
Calm. Smooth.
The kind of softness that wasn’t soft at all.
The kind that made every word feel like a tease wrapped in politeness.
Azura’s spoon hovered midair.
Vivian pressed her lips together like she was holding back an unholy sound.
Jane blinked once—slow, calculated, like a system reboot.
Bella made a tiny strangled noise in her throat and looked away.
Zoe stared straight at him, like challenging God Himself.
Shea looked like she was calculating his stats.
Larissa sipped wine with intense concentration.
Alice was frozen mid-smirk, which somehow looked more dangerous than a full one.
Allen tilted his head, leaned slightly closer, eyes gentle and wicked all at once.
“Please don’t tell me you were thinking something different about what I did,” he said, all innocent breath and sharpened sugar.
And then—he smirked.
Just a twitch at the corner of his mouth. Just enough to send every one of their minds spiraling into hell.
“Naughty,” he added, almost too quiet to be real.
Vivian let out a choked sound.
Azura slapped her hand over her mouth again, bright red.
Bella kicked the table leg like it had betrayed her.
Zoe actually whimpered.
Jane muttered something under her breath that sounded like “I hate him.”
Larissa’s wine glass was empty again.
Alice visibly stopped breathing.
Allen, of course, just hummed softly and turned around as if he hadn’t just verbally edged an entire room of women with a smile and a tone.
He moved back to the counter, lifting a tray with covered dishes. A soft clatter followed as he pulled out plates and set them down with practiced ease. No wasted movement. No rush. Just calm, purposeful efficiency.
“Dinner, everyone,” he said casually, uncovering the dishes with a little flourish.
Alice blinked, recovering first. “Wait, I thought we were just reheating lunch?”
Allen looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Yeah, I thought about that too.”
Shea stood beside Alice now, arms crossed. “Hold on. You cooked all this?”
He turned, raising a brow. “Not really cooked. Just… reimagined it.”
“What,” Bella said slowly, “does reimagined mean?”