Villain Ch 1856. Househusband From Hell
Allen motioned at the spread.
The roasted chicken from earlier had been thinly sliced and served atop buttery toast points with a citrus herb glaze.
The vegetables had been tossed into a warm stir-fry with sesame oil and just a hint of chili.
The truffle mashed potatoes? Now crisped into golden croquettes, served with garlic aioli on the side.
There was even a salad—what used to be leftover garnish now reborn with roasted fruit and vinaigrette.
"I just turned our lunch into something new," he said, wiping his hands on a clean towel. "Used to do it all the time when I lived alone. Had a lot of leftovers. Little budget. Big appetite."
Then, the smirk returned—gentle, but edged in silver.
"And I figured…"
He glanced over his shoulder, gaze flicking to each of them.
"…you might need the extra energy tonight. Not just me."
The girls laughed.
Kind of.
Nervous.
Off-key.
A symphony of awkward giggles and throat-clearing.
