Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1990

Capítulo 1990: Rise Above The Goldborne Name

Villain Ch 1990. Rise Above The Goldborne Name

Noah stood still, one hand tucked into the pocket of his tailored slacks, the other hanging loose at his side, twitching with something between regret and irritation.

He didn’t say anything.

Not until…

-Clap! -Clap! -Clap!

Slow. Sarcastic. Smug.

Noah groaned. “Oh come on, James.”

From behind one of the support pillars, James emerged. Navy blazer, no tie, sunglasses way too expensive for this kind of weather. His grin was a little too wide. He clapped one more time for good measure.

“Hey,” James said, raising both hands innocently. “I’m trying to make an entrance here. Gotta keep things theatrical. Allen might’ve rejected our offer, but I still wanna look cool.”

“To who?” Noah deadpanned, arms crossed.

James smirked. “Security guys watching the CCTV, obviously.”

He pointed up toward the discreet black orb in the ceiling.

“Morning, boys,” James said with a little wave. “Hope y’all enjoy the show.”

Noah dragged a hand down his face. “You’re insufferable.”

“Debatable,” James said. “My mom says I’m charming.”

“Your mom drinks too much white wine.”

“She has good taste.”

Noah sighed and leaned back against the pillar, eyes narrowing. “You followed me?”

James shrugged. “You ghosted my chat. I figured it wasn’t brunch-related.”

Noah didn’t argue. He just looked toward the direction Allen had gone.

“So,” James said, rolling his shoulders like he was warming up for gossip, “what did he say?”

“He turned us down.”

“Obviously. But what exactly did he say?”

Noah ran a hand through his hair. “That the project’s too early. That he’s still training. That it’s all under my dad’s name and he won’t tie himself to something that smells like Sterlinghart strings.”

James let out a long, low whistle. “Huh. That’s… smarter than I expected.”

Noah glanced sideways. “You thought he was stupid?”

“No,” James said, “I just thought he’d be more… how do I put this? Dramatic? Like ‘I’m going to outdo my dad and rise above the Goldborne name’ kind of energy. Some big rebel rich boy arc. But nah… turns out Allen’s not playing that game.”

Noah nodded slowly. “Yeah. I thought so too.”

James leaned against the pillar beside him. The silence settled between them for a few beats. Not awkward. Just thoughtful.

“Well,” James said eventually, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve, “we lost control of Mila. And Allen’s not exactly someone we can charm with steak dinners and venture capital.”

“Obviously,” Noah muttered.

“So…” James arched a brow. “What’s the plan?”

“We postpone it.”

“Seriously?”

Noah exhaled. “If my dad finds out I was trying to push a project under the radar, one that uses Allen’s face as leverage, he’s going to kill me. Not literally, but yeah, reputationally? Dead.”

James snorted. “Harsh.”

Noah shrugged, shoulders tense. “This project was supposed to be something separate. Something clean. Outside of our families. It wasn’t supposed to be more power games. But… it became that the second I brought Allen into it.”

James watched him carefully. “So what now?”

Noah rubbed the back of his neck, jaw tight. “I don’t know. I want to build something. Something bigger than the Sterlinghart name. Bigger than quarterly forecasts and press dinners and ‘keep your voice down, son, there are shareholders here.'”

His voice wavered slightly, just once, before grounding again.

“I want something that’s mine. Not polished. Not repackaged. Not approved by legacy.”

James studied him, quieter now. “You serious about that?”

“Yeah.”

“For real?”

Noah looked at him. “I want to wake up in five years and not be my father’s echo.”

James nodded slowly. “Damn. That’s kinda poetic.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not,” James said, hands up. “Just surprised. I always thought you liked the system.”

“I did,” Noah admitted. “Because I was good at it. And because when you’re inside it, you don’t have to think too hard. You follow the ladder. Play the roles. Say the words.”

“And now?”

Noah tilted his head back against the cold concrete. “Now? Mila walked away from all that. Found someone outside of it.”

James laughed. “And we’re still up here polishing our fake crowns.”

“Exactly.”

Silence.

A car passed by on the street behind them, tires hissing over wet pavement. Somewhere nearby, a bird screamed far too enthusiastically for a weekday morning.

Then James said, “I still want in.”

Noah blinked. “On what?”

“Whatever you make. Your thing. Your real thing. When you figure out what it is.”

Noah looked at him. Really looked at him.

James shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been wearing loafers and saying the right words for so long I forgot what I actually want to build. But if you’re gonna make something new… I kinda want to be there.”

“You sure?” Noah asked.

James smiled faintly. “I’m rich. I can afford a few idealistic bets.”

That pulled a small laugh from Noah. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Only on paper.”

They stood there a moment longer, the quiet between them a little lighter now.

James adjusted his blazer. “So what, we table it? No more Allen recruitment?”

“For now,” Noah said. “He’s not the kind of guy you lure with shiny promises.”

James rubbed his chin. “Or guilt-trip with family pressure.”

“He’s got walls. Big ones. But I get why she picked him now.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Noah’s voice was quieter. “He doesn’t treat her like a pawn.”

James snorted. “Neither do we.”

“We plan around her, James. It’s not the same.”

“…Fair.”

They turned toward the exit of the lot, sunlight starting to streak more sharply through the skyline. The air was still cool, but it had that buzz of a day about to start rolling, emails waiting, meetings scheduled, deals half-baked and overpriced.

“I’ll cover your ass with the old man,” James said casually. “If he asks, I’ll say the proposal was mine.”

“You’d do that?”

James looked at him, serious for once. “We’re friends. You mess up, I help. That’s the deal.”

Noah nodded, throat tight. “Thanks.”

James clapped him on the back. “Just don’t expect me to wear a hoodie and join a startup full of idealists.”

“You’d cry without your private driver.”

“I don’t cry. I get inconvenienced.”

They both laughed, walking toward the elevators at the far end.

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