Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives Chapter 1412: Incoming Call

Villain Ch 1412. Incoming Call

His fingers tightened around his phone as his eyes flicked toward the girls. They were still laughing, still teasing each other about sleeping arrangents, about who would steal the best pillows tonight.

And sohow…

He didn't want to ruin that.

Allen exhaled, shoved his phone in his pocket, grabbed his shirt, and pulled it on quickly.

Then, before anyone could notice the shift in his expression, he forced a small smile and turned back to them.

"I need to make a quick call," he said casually.

Shea looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Don't take too long, okay?"

Allen nodded. "Yeah. I won't."

And with that, he walked out of the room.

The second he was out of their sight, his face dropped.

No more forced smiles.

No more pretending everything was fine.

He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over the ssage, already knowing that whatever his mother had to say… It wasn't good.

Carla: Call if you have ti.

Sent three hours ago.

Allen let out a slow breath, his jaw tightening.

Yeah. He knew.

He knew that with his new reputation, his face plastered everywhere, and the fact that his father's identity was now known… His mother's ssage wasn't a casual check-in.

Still, he had to be careful. One wrong move could be a problem.

His fingers moved, typing out a quick response.

Allen: Can I call you now?

While waiting for a reply, he quickly switched apps, texting his dad and Kai.

Allen: Staying at Shea's place tonight. I'll be ho tomorrow morning.

Kai replied almost instantly.

Kai: Understood. I'll have breakfast ready when you return.

Allen exhaled through his nose. Efficient as always.

A second later, his dad responded too.

Jordan: Alright. Be safe, kid.

Allen nodded to himself, his fingers tightening around his phone.

He hated this.

That tight, suffocating knot in his chest, the way his stomach churned, the heavy weight pressing against his ribs. It wasn't just discomfort—it was sothing deeper. Sothing that had settled in him long ago, a kind of pain that never really faded.

This was his past. His old family.

And every single ti he had to deal with them—especially her—it was like he was fifteen again, standing in their living room, being scolded, criticized, belittled, like nothing he did was ever enough.

It wasn't just a phone call.

It was a storm waiting to hit.

And then— The call ca.

His phone vibrated in his palm, the na flashing across the screen.

Incoming Call: Carla.

Allen just stared at it.

His fingers twitched, and for a mont, just a brief mont, he considered letting it ring.

But he knew better.

It wouldn't change anything.

With a slow, steadying breath, he swiped to answer, lifting the phone to his ear. "Hello."

There was a pause—just a few seconds long, but heavy enough to make his pulse tick up.

Then, his mother's voice ca through. "I've seen the news and all," Carla said, her tone unreadable. "You found your real dad."

Allen swallowed. His fingers pressed against his temple, like that would sohow make this easier. "Yeah," he said, his voice stiff. "I… found him. No—he found ."

Another pause.

"I didn't think he was a rich guy," Carla said finally. "I'm shocked, actually. I thought he was so kind of thug or sothing."

Allen forced a chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "Don't say that. You both were drunk that night."

"Yeah," she sighed. "A mistake."

That word.

That fucking word…

Allen's jaw tightened.

A mistake.

Like he was so kind of accident, sothing that never should have happened.

Sothing she wished had never existed.

He let out a slow breath, trying to keep his voice steady. "Um… Dad—I an, Jordan—he said he sent you sothing or soone. To ask if you wanted to be part of our family..."

'Our' that word felt wrong in his mouth. Like a foreign object his tongue didn't know how to hold properly.

Carla's response was imdiate. "I turned it down." Her voice was firm, unwavering, like she hadn't even hesitated. Like she didn't even have to think about it.

"This is what I want," she continued, her tone clipped, like she was shutting the door on him all over again. "This is my dream family."

Allen swallowed hard. His fingers curled into a fist at his side. "Yeah," he murmured. "Got it."

For a second, he thought the conversation would end there.

He thought maybe, just maybe, she would hang up and he could pretend this never happened.

But no.

"I called you to say congrats," Carla said, her voice turning sharper, colder. "You have a family now. And I hope you won't bother us anymore."

His throat tightened.

"Just act like we used to," she continued. "Like we're nothing. I'm your big sister, not your mother. And don't ntion in the dia."

There it was. She wasn't just cutting ties—she was erasing him. Again. Allen pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. "Yeah," he said, voice too quiet. "I will. But… you know how restless the dia is."

"No," Carla cut in, her voice suddenly urgent. "Don't. Disturb my peace."

His chest felt tight. Like sothing heavy had settled there, pressing down, squeezing until it was hard to breathe. His mother had always been like this. Cold. Distant. Treating him like an inconvenience rather than a person. And yet, sohow, he still felt that old, familiar ache whenever she said things like this.

"Um…" He cleared his throat. "I'll try my best."

For a second, he thought she was going to hang up.

"Also," she said, her tone different now, like sothing had been nagging at her. "Why did you give that bag to Evan? Why did you use him to give it to ?"

Allen blinked. "What?"

"The branded bag," Carla clarified, a slight edge to her voice. "Why did you have Evan deliver it?"

Allen frowned, confusion flashing through him. "It wasn't ," he said after a second. "Evan bought it himself," he explained, his voice flat. "With his own money."

More silence.

She was listening now.

Allen exhaled, his voice lacking any emotion. "Mine… I gave it to a friend. Not long after you turned it down."

Another pause between them.

"I see."

That was it. That was the last thing she had to say to him.

No goodbye. No take care. No stay safe.

Just cold, detached finality.

And then—click.

The call ended.