Villain Ch 1799. Brain Candy
Instead of heading upstairs to stew in his room—because yeah, he'd just peeled off layers of emotional and sexual chaos today—he turned toward the dining room.
Just for a bit.
The long marble table was still half-prepped, one end already lined with silver cutlery and napkins folded like cranes trying too hard. A few candles sat unlit in tall glass holders. The place was too grand, too elegant, too still.
But that made it perfect.
Allen flopped onto the opposite end of the table—his end, the end with the window view and zero pressure to act like a young master—and plopped his grapes down with a flourish.
He waved at one of the passing servants.
"Tea," he said. "Iced. Black. Honey. No milk. And don't tell the chef."
The uniformed attendant bowed slightly with a knowing look and hurried off without a word.
Allen leaned back, cracked his neck, and unlocked his phone.
First instinct? Scroll the forums.
