Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives Chapter 2034: Perfect Family Portrait [Part 4]

Capítulo 2034: Perfect Family Portrait [Part 4]

Villain Ch 2034. Perfect Family Portrait [Part 4]

Carla pulled back first, just enough to rest her forehead against his chest for a second longer. Then she sighed.

“I should tidy up the wardrobe,” she murmured, like the weight of sothing old had finally shifted just enough to let her move.

Jason nodded. His hands lingered a second more before letting her go.

She stepped away, untied her apron, folded it like muscle mory, and hung it on the hook by the fridge. Her footsteps were light, but the floorboards creaked all the sa. She didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to.

Jason stayed in the kitchen.

Alone.

The sink was full of warm water and a few straggling glasses. The sponge had gone soggy and limp, but he picked it up anyway. He started scrubbing without thinking too much. Not hard. Just steady.

The clink of ceramic filled the silence. The dull splash of water. The faint rattle of the pipes behind the wall. Familiar sounds, but distant tonight.

His mind wasn’t here.

It was sowhere else.

Sowhere years ago.

Allen.

Jason didn’t say the na out loud. Just let it echo in his head like a ghost too stubborn to leave.

Yeah, he’d hated that kid.

No. That wasn’t true. Not really.

He hadn’t hated Allen. He’d hated what Allen represented.

A reminder.

Of what Carla had been through before him. Of what she’d endured. Alone. With a baby. In this town. In this tiny judgntal town with its whispers and nods and fake smiles.

They used to say Allen was her little brother.

Carla’s folks swore up and down. Lied through their teeth to save face. Dressed Allen like a cousin. Called him nephew. Baby brother. Everything but the truth.

But everyone knew.

They always knew.

Jason rembered. She was young. Scared. Small. Still trying to smile through the sha. But this town didn’t forget. Even if it never said a word to her face.

Jason had seen it. The way they looked at her. The way the old ladies whispered when she walked past with that stroller. The way the n glanced, not with pity, but with… sothing worse.

He had co into her life a little after that. Not by so fairytale eting, either. Just real life. Simple work. A few conversations. A quiet bond ford in the cracks. And sohow… they beca them.

But Allen was always there.

Always a reminder that Jason had co second. That he’d been the one to raise a kid soone else made.

Yeah. He was mad. So fucking mad. Mad that Carla had been put through that. Mad that no one protected her. Mad that he had to deal with it all.

And Allen?

Allen was just the unfortunate face he directed it at.

Even if the kid never deserved it.

Jason rinsed the last glass, set it in the rack, and stood there for a long ti, hands dripping, staring down the drain like it might give him an answer.

“Maybe I should say sorry,” he muttered.

But the words didn’t feel real in his mouth. They tasted wrong. Like sothing foreign trying to crawl out of his throat.

He dried his hands on the sa towel he’d dropped earlier.

“Yeah, right,” he said under his breath.

Saying sorry to Allen?

He couldn’t even imagine it. Couldn’t picture the look on Allen’s face if he tried. That cold, unreadable expression the boy always had around him. Or maybe not cold. Just guarded. Defensive. Like he’d learned early not to expect kindness from this house.

Jason sighed and rubbed his face.

He couldn’t say sorry. Not directly. Hell, Allen had blocked him. Blocked Carla too. Again, it was because Jason called him and took out his anger to Allen. But hell, he couldn’t see Carla’s tears. Called him a simp for it, he didn’t care. But hell, he didn’t want to see her sad face.

He sat down at the kitchen table. The chair creaked under him.

Carla’s chair sat empty across from him. Still warm, probably.

He stared at it.

He rembered once.

Allen had already been a teenager then.

Jason had been standing right there, by the table, voice sharp and ugly with everything he never learned how to say properly. Words thrown like accusations. Like verdicts. He couldn’t even rember what started it anymore, grades, attitude, silence, it all blurred together, but he rembered the feeling clearly.

Anger.

Pure, misplaced anger.

Allen hadn’t shouted back.

He hadn’t argued.

He’d just lowered his head, shoulders tense, hands clenched at his sides. But his eyes… his eyes never dimd. They stayed sharp. Guarded. Burning with sothing Jason didn’t understand back then, pride, maybe. Or survival. The kind you grow when you learn early that no one’s coming to save you.

Carla had been there too.

In the kitchen. Moving dishes. Wiping the counter too carefully. Pretending she didn’t hear a single word. Like silence could smooth the edges off what was happening. Like if she didn’t acknowledge it, it wouldn’t scar anyone.

Jason rembered hating that look in Allen’s eyes.

Not because it was defiant.

But because it was unbroken.

And now, years later, that mory sat heavy in his chest, Allen hadn’t been weak at all.

He’d been enduring.

Jason blinked.

He said it again, softer. “Maybe a letter…”

It sounded stupid. Old-fashioned. Sentintal.

But it was sothing.

He couldn’t say the words out loud. Not now. Maybe not ever.

But writing them?

Yeah. That could work.

Not for forgiveness.

Not even for a response.

Just…

Just to say go.

Be happy.

You deserve it.

That’s all.

He could give it to Evan. Quietly. No drama. Just hand it over. Maybe slip it into an envelope. Ask him to drop it with the gift or sothing.

Wait. A gift?

Jason snorted.

He sat back and laughed, just once, dark and dry.

“What the hell am I thinking?” he muttered. “I’m thinking about giving that brat a present?”

He ran a hand over his face. “A wedding gift?”

His laugh faded.

“God,” he whispered. “What a joke.”

He stared at the sink. At the way the light shimred off the wet tal.

But his chest ached in a way that didn’t feel like a joke.

He wasn’t trying to win anyone back.

He wasn’t trying to undo the past.

But maybe, just maybe, for this one last ti… he could try to be sothing.

Not a father.

Not a hero.

Just a man who’d been wrong. Who didn’t want to leave things broken forever.

He stood slowly.

His knees cracked, like they were reminding him how long he’d waited to do this.

A letter.

Sothing simple.

Maybe a small box. A watch, maybe. Not expensive. Just… sothing solid. Quiet. Like Allen.

He’d write the words tomorrow.

And give it to Evan.

That would be it.

First ti. Last ti.

The only ti he’d play his part as Allen’s stepdad.

Jason turned off the light in the kitchen.

And for the first ti in years, he didn’t feel like the villain in Allen’s story.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give more motivation!

Thank you for the Dragon, William_Tex!

Thank you for the gifts, Dunkun, Even_Gods_Can_Die!

600 Power Stone = 1 bonus chapter

400 Golden Ticket= 1 bonus chapter

Magic Castle= 2 bonus chapters

Space Craft= 4 bonus chapters

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