The soft rays of artificial light from the smart garden invaded the curtains of Elena's luxurious suite, awakening the young woman with the delicacy of a digital kiss from the mansion itself.
She stretched lazily, her tangled strands falling over her shoulders as she murmured something about "five more minutes" in three different languages.
But the internal clock seemed crueler than any alarm: the mansion activated the automatic wake-up system and the closet lights turned on, the smell of coffee floating through the corridors.
Resigned, Elena got up and went straight to the bathroom. The shower was quick, effective, and, of course, with the new premium Tycoon line of body soaps.
Ten minutes later, dressed in a tight white and gold sports outfit with the Tycoon logo discreetly printed on the top, she walked toward the private gym in the mansion's basement.
On the treadmill, speed at 9, already doing jumping jacks between sets of crunches, Elena looked more like a superhero dancer than a twenty-something girl just arriving at stardom.
Then the automatic door slid open with a soft sound and Mireille entered already holding a holographic tablet and a mysterious smile on her face.
"Good morning, star," she said in an upbeat tone.
Elena snorted while doing push-ups. "If it's to say there's another campaign with 12 hours of filming in the middle of the desert, you can go back where you came from."
Mireille laughed and leaned against the wall. "None of that. I just came to say that your last month of training was, in the words of the image committee, 'ridiculously above expectations.' Congratulations, genius."
Elena stopped the exercise, grabbed a towel, and wiped her sweat gracefully. She went to the crystal water cooler, took a sip, and raised an eyebrow. "Didn't I tell you? I passed first place in the hardest university entrance exam in the US, did a double degree, learned Korean in six months just to watch dramas without subtitles… being a celebrity? This is a joke."
"Arrogant girl… You weren't like this," Mireille smiled, amused. "And now that Tycoon has seen your potential, they want you as the face of the next product."
Elena raised the water bottle, raising an eyebrow with genuine curiosity. "New product? Don't tell me it's another facial mask. My skin is already in immortal goddess mode, Ayaka level from Genshin."
Mireille slid the tablet and showed the holographic project.
On the screen, the 3D design of an evening gown, cut at the rib height, with crystals that moved with the light and adjusted to the body with active comfort nanotechnology. Next to it, lotus-flower-shaped diamond earrings, and finally, a pair of lightweight frame glasses studded with white and blue diamonds — a piece of pure luxury, but with a smart filter and built-in AI assistant connection.
"This is the first official launch of Tycoon's new fashion brand. Name? 'MAISON TYCOON.' Want to know who created the concept?"
Elena, with a sharp look, raised her hands to tie her hair in an improvised bun. "Surprise me."
"An intern. Nayara Klemens. She started two months ago, just out of college. But CEO Lumine loved the project, and Victória herself validated it as worthy of Tycoon."
Elena whistled softly. "If Ice Queen Victória validated it, then it's serious business."
"It is. And you will shoot the commercial next week. The dress reacts to the sun, the earrings light up at night, and the glasses… well, it's literally a technological jewel."
Elena smiled with satisfaction.
"Mireille…" she said softly while returning to the treadmill, "…prepare the schedule."
Mireille laughed.
And then, the training resumed.
Days later, the car slid between the golden gates of Tycoon's recording complex.
Elena was leaning back in the white leather seat, barefoot, eyes glued to her phone screen as if reading cosmic poetry.
"Five hundred million… now you respect me, algorithm," she murmured, scrolling through notifications.
Her Instagram had just hit 300 million followers. On TikTok, 95 million. And on other networks, an estimated fanbase of 150 million people — and growing.
While most new-era celebrities fought for fifteen seconds of fame on the feed, Elena was the algorithm in flesh and blood.
In the front seat, Mireille fiddled with the tablet, frowning. She was reviewing details of the new campaign. "Tycoon paid a hundred million for this commercial."
Elena didn't even blink.
"The last one paid five hundred," she commented, confused, without taking her eyes off the phone.
"They really did," said Mireille. "But that was the LUX launch. This one is more… visual. Fashion, luxury, status. The impact is different. But don't get disillusioned."
Elena finally took her eyes off the phone and raised an eyebrow with a mocking smile. "Mireille, my bank account grew so much after LUX that it took me three days to understand how many zeros were there. A hundred million? That's just… a welcome gift."
Mireille smiled and shook her head. "Do you realize that today, you are the only artist officially contracted by Tycoon Entertainment? No record label, studio, or agency has exclusivity with you. Only Tycoon. And because of that, your contracts pay on average 100 times more than international artists."
Elena blinked. "Wait. You're telling me I earn more than the singers from North Stellar? More than the actresses from SkyLight Studios? More than Kira Nine?"
Mireille confirmed with a serious look. "All together. And you know why?"
Elena raised her hands theatrically. "Because I'm marvelous, iconic, visionary, and have perfect bones?"
"Yes. But mainly because Tycoon's CFO is a kind monster who funded all this out of her own pocket. While Lumine invents, Victória leads marketing like a queen, and Nikoly hacks the future, it was Luna Malroth who signed a check for one hundred billion to put this company in every country on the planet."
Elena widened her eyes a little. "One hundred… billion?!"
"Yes. Without blinking. She said: 'Open stores. Buy studios. Hire whoever shines. Do it.' And now here we are. And you, my dear Elena, are the face of all this."
Elena looked at the reflection in the smoked glass window.
From an overwhelmed young woman who barely could pay rent, she was now the highest-paid woman in global entertainment. A rising star who, in less than two months, was already on the same level as industry legends — or above.
"Funny, huh?" she said, thoughtful. — "Three months ago I worked twelve hours a day… At the end of the month, nearly two hundred thousand hard-earned dollars. Today, a hundred million is my new good morning."
The car slowed down.
The entrance to Tycoon's Immersive Holography Studio opened before them.
Large LED panels, top-tier film crew, drones, costumes, makeup artists, creative directors. And in the background, the huge suspended stage where the commercial would be shot — the dress, earrings, and glasses already displayed as mystical relics waiting for the goddess who would wear them.
"Welcome to the throne, Elena," said Mireille, turning to her with a proud sparkle in her eyes. "Now go there and dominate this world as if you were born for it."
Elena pulled on the sunglasses, put on her heels, and opened the door with a sly smile. "Spoiler, Mireille: I was born for it."
And then she got out of the car, the artificial wind tossing her hair like in a superstar movie.
Days later...
—Tycoon Development Tower.—
The pen trembled in Nayara Klemens' hand.
Not because she was nervous about a coding error or a design review. But because she could hardly believe what she was reading.
Minutes before, she was as always: hidden behind three monitors, adjusting virtual fabric textures on a 3D dress model, answering overdue emails, and scribbling new ideas between coffees.
Then, her communicator rang. "Boardroom. Now."
She thought she had made a mistake. Maybe violated some design policy by using a diamond flower in the shape of a solar star... Or, who knows, clicked some forbidden button on the holography simulator.
But now here she was. Sitting in one of Tycoon's boardroom's upholstered chairs.
In front of her, an elegant woman with short lilac hair — one of the directors of the fashion and style division — smiled as if about to offer her a ticket to heaven.
"Sit down, Klemens."
"I… I'm already sitting."
"Great. This here… is your contract." she said, pushing a tablet screen toward Nayara.
She took it.
Read it.
And her eyes froze on the third line. "Global Commercialization of the Klemens Collection. Authorship percentage: 10% per piece sold."
"This is… serious?" Nayara asked, her voice wavering.
"Very serious. Your set caused an immense impact. The dress, earrings, and glasses were acclaimed in the internal marketing. The campaign with Elena is already running. And Tycoon decided to launch your line as the first authorial collection of the Fashion Division."
Nayara looked once again at the suggested average price per piece:
Dress: $42,000
Floral diamond earrings: $25,000
Diamond frame glasses: $18,000
And then came the automatic calculation at the bottom of the screen.
Global sales projection – initial batch: 10 million pieces Estimated profit for Nayara Klemens (10%): $8,500,000,000
Eight billion. And a half. Dollars.
"I…" Nayara's eyes widened, speechless. "I'm an intern."
The director crossed her arms, smiling. "You were. Now you are officially the Creative Director of the Klemens Collection, with an exclusive contract with Tycoon. All royalties from your creations are in this contract. Sign and receive your first payment at the end of the week."
Nayara blinked. Then blinked again. Then laughed nervously. And then, as if out of body, touched the screen and signed.
Signature confirmed. Contract registered.
"Welcome to the real world, Klemens," said the director. "Now step out of the shadows. You are a star."
Minutes later, in the glass elevators of the tower...
Nayara descended smoothly, her heart beating to a galactic rave rhythm. "Eight billion. For ONE COLLECTION. And there's more coming…"
The world outside seemed the same — cars, hurried people, billboards with Elena and Tycoon commercials plastered everywhere.
But hers... Nayara Klemens' world had just transformed forever.
Nayara pulled out her phone with trembling hands.
Her face, still incredulous, was a mix of laughter and tears. Her eyes shone as if reflecting diamonds — the same ones now emblazoning the collection signed by her.
She took a deep breath. Dialed the most familiar number in the world.
Mom.
Called once. Twice. On the third, a warm and tired voice answered.
"Hello? Nay?"
"Mom…" Nayara stammered, her voice already choked up. "Mom, it's me…"
"Daughter, did something happen? Are you okay? You sound strange."
She laughed through tears, resting her forehead on the elevator glass descending the last floors of the Tycoon Tower. "Mom… everything happened. Everything good. Everything happened."
"Nayara, what are you talking about? You're scaring me!"
Nayara sniffled, wiping the tears now freely running down her cheeks. Her heart, a runaway drum in her chest.
"Mom… I… I became a billionaire. The company… Tycoon… they… they approved my collection. They're going to launch it globally, mom! And gave me 10% of each piece sold!"
Silence on the other side of the line. "Billio... what?"
"Ten. Per. Cent." Nayara repeated in tears. "That's billions, mom. Billions! I signed the contract today… I'm the official Tycoon designer now. My collection. Global. It's real…"
A sob cut through her throat. The elevator doors opened and she kept walking through the tower's luxurious hall, completely ignoring the absurd view of the city outside. She only heard her mother's emotional breathing, and soon a deeper voice, her father's, asking in the background what was going on.
"Daughter…" her mother spoke, almost a whisper. "You're saying that… you got rich?"
"More than rich, mom… we will never have to worry again. NEVER again."
She stopped in the middle of the corridor, leaning against the wall with her hand on her chest. "Mom… dad doesn't have to work on the farm anymore. Neither of you. You can retire now. Today, if you want. I'll buy a huge house for you. One with air conditioning in the bedrooms!"
On the other side, her mother started crying. Nayara felt as if she was hugging her from afar, even though separated by kilometers of height and asphalt.
"Daughter… you didn't do anything wrong, right? You weren't deceived? This is good, right?"
"Of course it's good, mom!" Nayara laughed through tears. "I didn't do anything wrong. They just recognized my work, my talent… THEY SAW ME, mom! For the first time in my life, I was seen!"
"Thank God… Oh my God… Your dad is standing here, doesn't even know what to say…"
"Tell him not to worry about Gabriel's college anymore." she choked. "I'll pay for EVERYTHING. And more: if he wants to do an exchange or study on Mars, I got it covered!"
Laughter on both sides.
The emotion was so strong that Nayara barely noticed people passing by, some looking at her, crying and laughing alone with a phone in her face.
"Listen to me, mom… This life of suffering is over. From today on… we are Tycoon."
And, at that moment, on the other side of the line, her mother started shouting to the neighbors, like a country teenager winning the lottery.
"My daughter is a billionaire!! GABRIEL IS GOING TO MARS, PEOPLE!!"
Nayara smiled, her heart light as a cloud.
------
Hello, thank you for reading and following this chapter. Remember to use your Golden Tickets and Power Stones to help the work reach new heights!