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Capítulo 2039: First Night

Villain Ch 2039. First Night

The first night didn’t go the way people probably imagined.

There were no wild moans echoing off gold-frad walls.

No walls shaking.

No sultry chaos or nine girl orgy that the tabloids would absolutely try to write about in graphic detail later.

No.

What really happened was quiet.

Soft.

Simple.

After a long hot bath, which took rotating turns through the mansion’s absurdly oversized marble tub, the girls changed into silk robes and pajamas, stole bites of warm supper from trays brought up to the bedroom, and collapsed.

One by one.

On his bed.

Allen’s bed.

Well, their bed now.

Huge, custom-made, sheets soft as clouds, with too many pillows and a headboard carved from dark wood imported from sowhere none of them could pronounce. They all piled into it like kids after a sleepover. Hair still damp. Makeup washed away. Dresses hanging in wardrobes. The long train of the day finally caught up with them.

Vivian curled against a pillow and passed out mid-sentence.

Mila nuzzled beside her with a peaceful smile.

Shea sprawled across the middle like a cat, one foot hanging off the edge.

Bella and Alice slept side by side, holding hands without even realizing it.

Larissa took the corner but still managed to look like a queen in exile.

Azura mumbled sothing about cake in her sleep.

Zoe? Already out before her head touched the pillow.

Jane had laid near the foot of the bed, not to distance herself, but because that’s where there was space.

They didn’t wait for him.

No seductive beckons. No “co here, darling.” No roleplay, no matching lingerie reveal. Just tired, warm girls, breathing slow and deep, piled into the one place they all belonged now.

And Allen?

He stood on the balcony.

Alone.

Still in his white shirt and black slacks, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair tousled. The night air was cooler than he expected. The moon sat heavy above the treetops, silver and watchful. Down below, the garden lights still glowed. Soft gold over the trimd hedges, making the stone paths shimr like ribbon.

In his hand was a folded piece of paper. Creased once. Then again. Over and over until it had softened.

Jason’s letter.

His last words, if Allen wanted to be dramatic about it. Not that the man was dead. But in Allen’s world, sothing had ended.

He read it again. Just once more.

No na. No sign-off. Just that.

Allen stared at it for a long ti.

Then, finally, quietly, he touched the edge of the aromatherapy candle set beside the table.

The fire caught quick.

The paper curled in on itself like it couldn’t wait to be destroyed.

He didn’t throw it. He let it burn in his hand, fingers steady, watching it crumble into ash. When the flas kissed his skin, he opened his palm and let the wind take it.

Gone.

No drama.

No monologue.

Just… gone.

The last tie to that version of him.

He stood there for a while. Thinking. Or not thinking. It was hard to tell. The silence pressed on his chest in a way that wasn’t heavy. Just real.

He thought maybe he should feel angry. Or triumphant. Or vindicated. Maybe regret. Maybe closure.

But he just felt… numb.

The kind of numb that cos after a deep breath. After you’ve run too far and stopped in the middle of nowhere and realized the world is still moving.

He didn’t need revenge. Not anymore.

He didn’t even know what he’d be avenging.

And Evan…

Evan showed up.

That was enough.

So yeah. That’s what he did.

He watched the last ember vanish, turned his head slightly when the wind shifted, and let the night wrap around him.

Then a voice broke the stillness.

“Allen.”

He turned.

Jane stood at the balcony door, barefoot, holding a glass of water in one hand, the other brushing her hair back behind her ear.

Her robe was pale cream, soft and tied at the waist.

“You haven’t slept yet?” he asked.

“I was,” she said softly. “I woke up. I was thirsty.”

Allen smiled faintly. “That’s fair.”

She stepped closer, her steps quiet over the smooth stone. She stopped just beside him, looked out at the trees, the sky, the last flicker of burnt ash disappearing over the railing.

“I saw you burn sothing,” she said.

He nodded once. “A letter from Jason.”

Her eyes turned toward him. “From your stepdad?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t elaborate. Didn’t need to.

Jane didn’t ask for details. She just stood there, the glass in her hand catching the light, condensation beading down the side.

She looked up at him, gently. “You okay?”

Allen let out a breath.

“I don’t know.”

She waited.

“It wasn’t anything kind,” he said. “Not cruel either. Just… Jason. Cold. Final. Like it was supposed to be so kind of last word.”

Jane nodded slowly. “Did it hurt?”

“No,” he said. “And that’s the weird part.”

His voice dropped lower.

“I thought it would. I braced for it. Spent years waiting for sothing… apology, anger, recognition, anything. And when I finally got sothing, all I felt was…”

“Empty?”

He nodded.

“I think,” she said, sipping from her glass, “that ans you healed. Or maybe you stopped expecting anything. Which isn’t always a bad thing.”

Allen looked at her. The way the wind lifted the edge of her robe. The way her lashes frad her eyes when she wasn’t looking directly at him.

“I didn’t hate him,” Allen said quietly. “Not really. I just… kept hoping one day he’d see . Like, really see . And today… I realized that’s never going to happen. And I don’t think I care anymore.”

Jane reached up, brushed her fingers across his wrist. Just a soft touch.

“That’s not weakness,” she said. “That’s peace.”

He laughed softly under his breath. “Feels weird.”

“Peace usually does.”

They stood there a mont longer.

Then she leaned against his side.

“Co to bed,” she whispered. “You did sothing incredible today.”

“I married nine won. That’s probably illegal sowhere.”

“You survived your own wedding,” she said. “You made a house into a ho. You turned pain into sothing… beautiful. Co rest, Allen. You don’t need to carry that anymore.”

He just reached out, took her glass, set it gently down, and pulled her into his arms.

She sighed against him, warm and steady, and for a while, there was nothing else.

No noise. No past. No obligations. Just Jane, wrapped in moonlight and the soft weight of silence that didn’t need filling.

Allen closed his eyes, her hair brushing his chin as he held her. He didn’t need to say anything. She didn’t push for words. It was one of the things he loved about her, Jane always knew when quiet ant more than comfort. When it beca understanding.

But then, of course, peace never lasted long in a house full of nine won.

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!

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Space Craft= 4 bonus chapters

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