Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1956: Boosted
Chapter 1956: Boosted
Villain Ch 1956. Boosted
Allen stared at her. Soft jazz played from the mounted kitchen speaker, classy and annoyingly calm—very unlike the storm behind her smug expression.
He narrowed his eyes. “What?”
She didn’t look up. Just sipped her tea with maddening patience. “Waiting.”
“For?”
Her eyes lifted, bright and full of that Goldborne sharpness. “For you to say something.”
“I said you’re impossible. That’s something.”
“Not about that,” she said sweetly.
Allen exhaled. “Oh god.”
She tilted her head. “Not even a little comment about your ex-girlfriend and those ex-teammates of yours who’re currently dragging your name all over the internet?”
He winced and scratched his temple. “So you saw it.”
Her smirk widened. “Oh, I know. The company PR caught it within an hour. They flagged it. I got the internal memo. Dad saw it too.”
Allen paused. “Dad saw it?”
Emma nodded slowly. “He knows.”
Allen groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “And he didn’t do a thing?”
“Oh no,” she said, eyes gleaming. “He did a thing.”
Allen looked up sharply. “What thing?”
She swirled her tea again, savoring the moment. “He ordered the media team to push Liam and Darren’s statements.”
“What?”
“Mm-hm. Boosted distribution. Made sure it showed up on every feed, every Social Media, every ’relationship drama’ reaction channel. All the clips. Especially the one where they said ’Oh, she used us to get closer to Allen Goldborne.’”
Allen was quiet.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling like it might rain answers.
“That wicked move,” he muttered.
Emma raised an eyebrow.
“That’s a Goldborne move. Cold. Surgical. PR genius.”
“Come on,” she teased. “You love it.”
“I do,” he admitted with a slow, growing grin. “Let me guess. Dad looked at this entire situation and thought, ’Oh, perfect. A chance to drive Sophia away for good.’”
Emma clinked her spoon against her mug. “Bingo.”
Allen’s wicked grin stretched into something cruel and amused. “That man’s a monster.”
“Runs in the family,” she said cheerfully.
“I can’t believe it,” he said, still grinning. “This is actually kinda brilliant.”
She lifted her phone and showed him a short clip. “Saw this one earlier. Random footage. Someone shot it from their car near the airport.”
The clip played. Grainy, shaky, but unmistakable.
Sophia. On the sidewalk. Mascara streaked, heels in her hand, screaming at someone off-camera. She yelled his name—shrill, cracked with exhaustion. Cars honked around her. Someone laughed in the background.
Allen leaned in, frowning slightly.
“She called your name,” Emma said softly. “Twice.”
He stared at the screen. The tears. The desperation. The way she looked so out of place, like a drama student who just realized she was on the wrong stage.
The video ended with her shoving past a couple of tourists.
Allen exhaled through his nose. “She’s spiraling.”
Emma put the phone down. “You sound surprised.”
“I’m not.” He reached for the drink beside him. “I just… didn’t think she’d break this fast.”
Emma leaned forward, hands clasped under her chin. “You did dump her like she was a limited-time stock option after the earnings call failed.”
“She tried to crawl back to me, forcing me to take her back again. And she cheated. It’s not a breakup if it’s mutual public betrayal.”
“Oof. Harsh.” But Emma didn’t disagree.
Allen sipped his drink. “What about Darren and Liam?”
“They’re panicking,” she said. “I mean, not just for betraying you. That was already a death sentence in this family.”
He smirked.
“But more because their names are now permanently tied to hers. Damage by the public. And guess what Dad did?”
“Tell me.”
“Blocked them from all our subsidiaries. All referrals pulled. They don’t know yet. But HR’s already set the blacklist.”
Allen let out a low whistle. “Damn.”
“Yeah.” Emma leaned back with a grin. “Welcome home, by the way.”
He chuckled. “This house is toxic.”
“No, this house is brilliant. We don’t kill people here, we kill futures,” she said. “Well… people sometimes,” she added.
Allen laughed, shaking his head. “Damn.”
She shrugged innocently. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t write the rulebook. I just follow Dad’s plays.”
He leaned his elbow on the counter, smile fading slowly into something quieter. “So it’s over, huh?”
Emma’s smirk softened. “You mean her? Or the story?”
“I don’t know. I’m just a spectator.”
She considered. “The public doesn’t care about facts. They care about spectacle. Right now, Sophia’s story is failing because no one wants to root for the villain who got caught lying. Your name’s clean. She’s unraveling. If you don’t respond, you win by default.”
Allen stirred his coffee absentmindedly. “And if I do respond?”
“Depends.” Her gaze sharpened. “Do you want her back?”
“No.”
“Then stay silent. Let the narrative rot her.”
He stared into his cup, watching the ripples fade. “You sound like Dad.”
Emma smiled. “Thanks.”
Allen glanced at her again. “He ever… regret this kind of thing?”
Her fingers stopped drumming the counter. “What, playing the game?”
“Yeah.”
She was quiet. Then she said, “I don’t think he believes in regret.”
Allen looked down at his hands. Strong. Steady. But sometimes they felt too clean for the shit he’d survived.
“I didn’t even do anything,” he muttered. “She cheated. They betrayed me. And somehow I still feel like I’m the cold one.”
“You are,” Emma said. “But you’re not wrong.”
That silence settled again.
Until she added, “Besides, you’re hotter than all of them. That helps.”
He rolled his eyes. “So shallow.”
“Realistic,” she countered. “You’re rich, sharp, emotionally damaged, and you live in a mansion with a voice-activated coffee machine. Public eats that shit up.”
“Did you just call me a walking trauma fantasy?”
Emma grinned. “You’re a Goldborne. That’s the brand.”
Allen exhaled, half-laugh, half-sigh. “Be nice if someone loved me for who I am, not for what I represent.”
“Try leaving your shirt on next time you do a livestream,” Emma said sweetly. “That might help.”
“Impossible. The abs are part of the trauma package. I started gym therapy after the breakup, remember?”
She snorted into her tea.
