Chapter 347 A Piece Of His Past [Part 1]



Villain Ch 347. A Piece of His Past [Part 1]

Despite his confusion, he decided to endure his questions and eat. He took his eating utensils and tasted the first bite. The symphony of flavors on his taste buds momentarily drowned out his perplexity. The anticipation of the next bite soon eclipsed his initial confusion, at least temporarily.

ραndαsΝοvεl ƈοm Yet, even as he savored the culinary delights, his mind remained tethered to the mystery. The laughter and chatter around the table were a welcome distraction, but Allen's curiosity was a force that refused to be silenced.

Between bites of exquisite food and sips of fine wine, Allen found an opportune moment to voice his curiosity. Attempting to keep his tone casual, he turned to Shea, a friendly smile playing on his lips.

"Hey, Shea," he began, feigning nonchalance though his heart raced a bit faster. "I hope this doesn't come off as too forward, but I can't help but wonder—"

Shea, her attention momentarily diverted from her own plate, met his gaze with an arched eyebrow and a warm smile. "Ask away. What's on your mind?"

A deep breath in, a release of it in a sigh; his courage mounted. "I'm really grateful for the dinner invitation, truly. But," he hesitated for a moment, "I can't shake the feeling that there might be more to this than just a casual meal. Is there something you're celebrating? Or perhaps... something I should know?"

Shea's laughter cut through the tension that lingered between them, a melodious sound that had a way of dispersing clouds of doubt. "It's just a normal dinner," she chimed, her eyes twinkling with amusement. But something in her tone, the glimmer of mischief, told Allen that normalcy was a foreign concept in this scenario.

An eyebrow arched, and a wry smile tugged at the corner of Allen's lips. "Isn't there a saying, 'There's no such thing as a free dinner'? And you also mentioned 'entertaining you' before?" he quipped, his gaze locked onto Shea's.

Shea's own smile deepened, hinting at secrets that danced just beyond the edge of her lips. "Ah, you caught onto that, did you?" she mused. "And as for the entertainment I mentioned... Well, don't you worry? We'll delve into that soon enough."

Allen's frown deepened, his brows knitting together in intrigue and puzzlement.

Zoe giggled at his expression. "Oh, come on, Allen. Don't make that thinking face. Don't worry, it's not what you think," she chimed.

"So, this dinner does aim for something, right?" he quipped, his tone a mixture of curiosity and amusement.I think you should take a look at

The corners of Shea's lips lifted in response to his question. Her eyes held a twinkle of mischief, a sparkle that set his imagination ablaze. "Perceptive as always," she acknowledged. "Indeed, you're right. There is no free dinner. But for now, just enjoy your dinner," she said with a wink.

Although Allen was curious, he decided to continue with his dinner. Amidst their lively conversations and playful banter, Allen's eyes wandered discreetly, taking in the servants who flitted around the dining room. He observed their precision as they replaced his plate and glass with each finished course, and the thought that they were changing utensils for every dish left him intrigued.

'Why are they changing my eating utensils so frequently?' Allen pondered, his mind racing to find a plausible explanation. He couldn't help but feel a sense of unease like a piece of the puzzle was missing.

Shea and Zoe exchanged knowing glances as they noticed Allen's subtle suspicion. It was clear that he realized something, but they shared a silent agreement to maintain an air of nonchalance. This was very important after all since they wanted to take Allen's DNA sample via his eating utensils.

Secretly, Shea had been trying to find out about Allen's biological father and she had several candidates who had characteristics like what the old bartender at Club 36 had told. That bartender had already retired from that club for a long time and decided to open a small cake shop with his wife in another town. But with her network, Shea managed to track him and ask him a few questions.

The bartender began to recount the incident. It had been a night much like any other. And then he walked in – a man whose presence had cast a shadow of melancholy over the vibrant backdrop. The man, who was supposed to be Allen's biological father, exuded an aura of quiet desolation. His eyes held a glimmer of sorrow. He settled onto a barstool, the weight of his heartache was palpable even amidst the cacophony that enveloped him.

The bartender's gaze grew distant as he recalled the man's actions – a series of gestures that spoke volumes even without words. Drink after drink was ordered, each glass a vessel for numbing the ache that seemed to gnaw at his very soul. But it was the final act that had left an indelible mark upon the bartender's memory.

With a determination that bordered on desperation, the man ordered round after round for the entire guests in that club. A lavish display of generosity that had sent shockwaves through the bar, leaving patrons wide-eyed and incredulous. The drinks flowed freely, glasses raised in an impromptu toast to the man who had transformed the night into an unexpected carnival of spirits.

And then came the moment that would forever linger in the bartender's mind. The man paid for it with a special credit card. The bartender had seen his fair share of prestigious cards, but this one was different – an infinity platinum card from a big bank, a symbol of boundless affluence.

It was the first infinity platinum card the bartender had ever seen. The balance was unlimited, which meant that man was crazily wealthy. Unfortunately, there was no name on that old design card and the man only told his nickname, not his real name.

Once Shea got wind of that intriguing piece of information, her curiosity ignited. Allen's past – a realm previously veiled in mystery – had suddenly become a treasure trove of secrets waiting to be unearthed. She wanted to know more.