Villain Ch 358. Connection
A sigh of disappointment escaped Allen's lips as he absorbed his mother's words.
"I see…" The words left Allen's mouth, a mixture of acceptance and regret.
Carla's voice, gentle yet filled with concern, cut through the silence. Her hand found its place on Allen's shoulder, a gesture of comfort and connection. "Are you disappointed?" she asked, her eyes searching for a glimpse into his thoughts.
Turning his gaze towards her, Allen met her eyes.
He shook his head gently, his expression a mixture of candor and raw honesty. "No. I'm angry," his words were a release of the emotions he had been grappling with. "I know you don't want to connect with your past again," he began, his voice a mixture of understanding and frustration. "I know I was a mistake. But at least let me connect to him. I know you don't want him, but I want him. I want to know who he is," his words tumbled out, a cascade of thoughts and desires that had been simmering within him. His tone remained even, but the undercurrent of anger was evident in his words.
Carla's gaze met his, her eyes a reflection of her own inner turmoil.
"Hear me out, Allen," Carla's voice was a plea. "It's better like this. I don't remember who he was, and we met at the club," her voice carried a note of vulnerability. "He took a chance when I was in my weak moment, and there is no way a good man would do that," her words were laden with a mixture of caution and wisdom. "He could be a bad guy. He could have come since he wanted something from you, from us," her voice wavered, the weight of her concerns evident in her words.
The tug-of-war between desires and fears played out in their exchange. "You have got a good life now," Carla continued. "You have got a job and are in good health, so why don't you feel content with your current life?"
Allen's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
"He could be a bad guy, but he also could be a good guy," Allen's voice held a sense of pragmatism.
His disappointment was evident in his words. "I'm not getting my hopes up too high," he admitted, a touch of vulnerability threading through his tone. "I just want to know who he is. Good or bad, I'll decide for myself. I'm not a kid anymore."
A sigh escaped Carla's lips, the sound carrying the weight of her own complex emotions. "So, are you going to blame me for this?" she asked, her voice a mixture of resignation and curiosity.
The answer echoed within Allen's mind, a resounding YES that he couldn't voice aloud. His emotions were a maelstrom of feelings that tugged at his heart. "I just want to know who my father is. That's all," he finally said, the words a simple yet profound plea that held a world of longing.
"Some mystery is better to remain a mystery, Allen," Carla's voice held a touch of wisdom, a reminder that sometimes the truths we uncover might not align with our desires.
A wry smile curved Allen's lips, the expression a reflection of the irony that colored their conversation. He stood up from his seat, a mixture of emotions swirling within him as he prepared to leave. "I better go now before Dad's home," he said, his voice carrying a blend of resignation and haste.
"Let me take you," Evan's voice cut through the silence, a gesture of support that spoke volumes. The clink of teacups meeting the table's surface followed his approach.
"Thanks," Allen's gratitude was sincere.
The brothers moved together, a silent understanding guiding their steps toward the entrance. But as they reached the threshold, Evan's voice called Allen back, halting him in his tracks before he could take his leave.
"Wait. We need to talk," Evan's urgency was palpable.
Allen's steps paused, his gaze shifting towards Evan as he awaited the revelation that his brother was about to share.
"I know you are disappointed," Evan began, his voice carrying the weight of understanding and empathy. "But after Dad kicked that man out, I said something about you," he continued, his words a bridge that connected the past and the present in a single sentence.
Allen's eyes widened, surprise and curiosity dancing in their depths. "Are you serious?" he asked, a glimmer of hope igniting within him like a spark in the dark.
"Yes. I said I have a stepbrother and he doesn't know who his biological father is. His name is Allen," Evan's words held a sense of gravitas, each syllable a thread that wove a new narrative. "I said you live in Revine City," he added, a detail that anchored the story to a specific location. "Unfortunately, I don't know your address," he concluded with a note of regret, his voice carrying the weight of missed opportunities.
"Then?" Allen's voice held a note of impatience, a reflection of his eagerness to uncover the details that Evan held.
Evan's response was swift, the words tumbling from his lips as if they couldn't wait to be revealed. "I asked his name," he began, his voice a mixture of intrigue and revelation. "He said his name is Alex Frostbane."
"Alex Frostbane," Allen repeated, as if saying the name aloud would make it more real.
"He is an assistant. He got information about our family from the club," Evan continued, the words a trail of breadcrumbs that led deeper into the mystery. His voice carried a mixture of surprise and disbelief, as if he himself was grappling with the revelation.
"Assistant?" The word hung in the air like a question mark, Allen's brows furrowing as he sought to make sense of the connection.
Evan nodded, his expression serious. "Yes. Whoever your father is. He must be a busy person," Evan's words held a mixture of respect and understanding.
"Then what did he say?" Allen's voice held a touch of eagerness, his curiosity a palpable force that seemed to propel the words forward.
Evan's response was accompanied by a shake of his head, a gesture that carried a hint of regret. "Dad came out of the house again so I had to hide," he explained, his tone a mixture of apology and frustration.
"You know how angry he gets if I talk too much about you," Evan's regret was evident in his voice, a reminder of the complexities of their family dynamics.
Allen's understanding was reflected in his simple yet disappointed acknowledgment. "Yeah," he said, his tone holding a note of resignation.
Evan's hand came to rest on Allen's side, a comforting pat that bridged the gap between them. "C'mon, cheer up," he encouraged, his words a balm to Allen's disappointment. "At least whoever he is, he knows you exist," Evan's reassurance carried a note of optimism that hung in the air like a promise.
A smile graced Allen's lips, a mixture of gratitude and relief coloring his expression. "Thanks, dude. It really helps," he admitted, the words a sincere acknowledgment of the support he had received.
Evan's parting words were filled with genuine affection. "Take care of yourself," he said with a touch of happiness. "You should live well. Tell me if you need my help," he offered, his voice carrying a mixture of brotherly concern and camaraderie.
Allen nodded, a gesture that held within it a silent agreement and a promise. With a final smile, he turned and left.
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