The silence in the car had shifted.
Ten minutes ago, it was thick with sexual tension, the air heavy with the scent of Nari's arousal and my own bold teasing. But as the sprawling estate of Ivy Romanoff came into view, the atmosphere cooled. The playful heat dissipated, replaced by the cold, calculating focus of business.
Nari fixed her dress, her breathing having long since returned to its steady, rhythmic calm. The "President" was back. The flushed girl who had threatened to crash the car was gone, locked away behind walls of professionalism.
"That is... quite the fortress," Nari murmured, looking out the window.
We were pulling up to a massive structure that looked less like a home and more like a monument to solitude. It was a royal, beige-colored mansion that seemed to grow naturally out of the snowy landscape of Kaelvi. It didn't scream 'new money' like the penthouses in Grand Metropolis. It whispered old power. It was elegant, imposing, and strangely quiet.
"Looks like our actress is quite loaded," Nari commented, her eyes scanning the perimeter. "This isn't just movie star money. This is empire money."
"Who knows?" I shrugged, killing the engine. "Let's see what kind of monster lives inside."
I stepped out into the biting cold. The snow crunched satisfyingly under my boots. I adjusted my coat, feeling the familiar hum of the System in the back of my mind. Usually, this would be the part where I activated [Appraisal] or [King's Eyes] to scan for threats, to break down the target into numbers and stats.
Strength. Agility. Weaknesses.
But today? I didn't feel like it.
Something about the drive, the moment with Nari, and the pristine, almost holy aura of this house made me pause. Relying on the System for everything made life predictable. Sometimes, a King needed to trust his gut.
"I'm not activating any skills," I decided quietly to myself, though Nari glanced at me as if she heard. "Just instinct today."
We walked to the massive oak double doors. Before I could even knock, they swung open smoothly, revealing a butler who looked like he had been carved out of stone. He didn't ask who we were. He simply bowed low and ushered us into a drawing room that smelled of lavender and old books.
"Miss Romanoff will be with you shortly," he intoned, vanishing into the shadows.
We sat on a velvet sofa that probably cost more than my old apartment. The room was bathed in natural light from floor-to-ceiling windows.
"It's too quiet," Nari whispered, leaning close to me. "No security guards visible. No cameras that I can see. For a global superstar, she's awfully exposed."
"Or she's so confident she doesn't think she needs them," I replied.
Then, she walked in.
I've seen beautiful women. My life is currently populated by some of the most stunning women in the country—Isabel's fiery intensity, Aunt Christine's mature elegance, the Sterling triplets' synchronized perfection.
But Ivy Romanoff was... different.
She didn't walk; she seemed to glide. She had light blue hair that cascaded down her back like a frozen waterfall. Her deep violet eyes. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, glowing with health. She wore a long sundress, simplistic yet undeniably elegant, the kind of fabric that flowed like water around her tender figure.
She looked angelic. That was the only word for it. There was no malice in her eyes, no hidden agenda in her posture. Just a serene, natural smile that seemed to brighten the room.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson, Miss Han," she said. Her voice was soft, melodic, like a wind chime in a gentle breeze. "Please, stay seated. We can talk business afterwards."
She gestured to the butler who had reappeared with a tray. "Bring the special wine from the cellar. And the light cuisine I prepared. These are our guests."
Nari blinked. Even the Empress was thrown off by this level of genuine warmth. Usually, our targets were defensive, arrogant, or scared. Ivy was none of those things.
We sat in silence for a moment as the wine was poured. It was a deep crimson, rich and heavy.
Nari cleared her throat, deciding to take the lead. "Miss Romanoff, we are truly grateful for your hospitality and kindness. It's rare to be welcomed so warmly." She adjusted her glasses, her business mode engaging. "But we are here on a tight schedule. We want to talk about—"
"Project Allure," Ivy interrupted gently.
Nari froze. I raised an eyebrow.
Ivy took a delicate sip of her wine, her blue eyes sparkling with intelligence. "I know why you are here, Miss Han. You and the rising "Phoenix Capital Group" of Grand Metropolis want to recruit me."
I leaned back, crossing my arms. "You're well informed."
"I read," she said simply. "And I listen. You want me to be the face of your new fashion and media empire."
Nari opened her mouth to launch into her prepared pitch—the benefits, the salary, the global reach, the synergy with Phoenix Capital. But Ivy held up a slender hand.
"I am willing," she said.
The room went dead silent.
I looked at Nari. Nari looked at me. We were both thinking the same thing: What?
"Excuse me?" I asked, leaning forward. "Did you say... willing?"
"Yes, Mr. Wilson," Ivy smiled, with a genuine, dazzling expression. "I am willing to join Project Allure. I've known about Christine; she is quite an inspiration for me, and the chance to work by her side is my pleasure. I've seen the shift in the market. It sounds exciting."
Nari was stunned. We had planned for hours. We had strategies and manipulation tactics. We were ready to pressure her, to negotiate, to fight.
"Just like that?" Nari asked, skepticism leaking into her voice. "Without hearing the terms? Without negotiating the salary?"
"I have one demand," Ivy said, her expression turning slightly more serious, though the gentleness never left her eyes.
Here it comes, I thought. Here's the catch. Does she want shares? Does she want to fire someone? Does she want a billion funos?
"Name it," I said, my voice low.
Ivy set her glass down. She looked directly at me, her gaze unwavering.
"Nothing big," she said softly. "I just want to work. Only work. Acting, modeling, representing the brand. That is all."
She paused, her fingers smoothing the fabric of her dress.
"I will not do any different kind of service," she continued, her voice firm. "I know how this industry works, Mr. Wilson. I know what men in power usually expect from women in my position. The 'extra' duties. The late-night meetings."
She looked me dead in the eye.
"That is what I want in my contract. Explicitly. If you promise me that you will respect my dignity, that I am an employee and an artist, not a... plaything... then I am willing to form a contract immediately."
I stared at her.
For a second, I felt a strange mix of emotions. In the world I am living—a world of power, conquest, and dominance—her request was almost painfully pure. She wasn't asking for money. She was asking to be treated like a human being.
It was the easiest recruit of my life. And yet, it felt heavy.
Nari let out a breath she seemed to have been holding. "That... is your only condition?"
"Yes," Ivy nodded.
"Miss Romanoff," I said, standing up and extending my hand. "You have my word. And more importantly, you'll have it in writing. In my empire, talent is respected. Your dignity won't be touched."
Ivy stood and took my hand. Her grip was soft but firm. "Then we have a deal, Mr. Wilson."
We signed the preliminary papers right there on the coffee table. It took less than ten minutes.
"I will meet you in Fernbury, inside Grand Metropolis, in a few days," Ivy said as she walked us to the door. "I need to pack and settle some affairs here before I leave."
"We will have everything ready for your arrival," Nari promised, still looking slightly dazed.
As we stepped out into the cold air, the heavy oak doors clicked shut behind us.
We walked back to the car in silence. The snow was falling harder now, blurring the world into shades of white and gray.
I started the car, turning the heater up to blast away the chill. As we pulled out of the massive driveway, Nari finally broke.
"That... was impossible," she muttered, taking off her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Like, seriously impossible."
"It was certainly efficient," I noted, merging onto the main road.
"Efficient?" Nari turned to me, her eyes wide. "Adam, does this kind of human even exist? Did you see her? She's successful, rich, beautiful... and she just agreed to work for us without a single argument about money? She was so humble. So polite."
She shook her head, looking out at the passing trees. "I don't believe it. I was ready for a battle. I was ready to dismantle her ego. Instead, I felt like... I don't know, like I was in the presence of a saint."
I chuckled. "Even the Han group Heiress forgets to check the status of her enemies sometimes."
"I don't regret it," Nari said quickly. "But how? How can she be that successful and that innocent? In our world, people like that get eaten alive."
I tapped the steering wheel, thinking back to the file Bella had given us. The file that was empty. No scandals. No dirt.
"Remember what Bella said?" I asked. "She said Ivy was 'clean.' We thought it meant she hid her secrets well. We thought it was a facade."
"And?"
"And I think we were wrong," I said. "It's not a facade in the way we think. She is a living exception."
"An exception?"
"She's too humble," I explained, piecing it together as I drove. "She's so polite, so genuinely talented, that people don't dare to use her. And her fans... they treat her like a deity. If anyone tried to hurt her, or coerce her, the public backlash would be nuclear. She's protected by her own purity."
Nari stayed silent for a long moment, processing this. "So, her defense mechanism isn't fear or power... it's perfection."
"Exactly," I said. "She's untouchable because she's flawless. That's why she was so direct about the 'dignity' clause. That's her only shield."
Nari nodded slowly. "That might be the reason. It's... terrifying, in a way. To be that perfect."
"It is," I agreed. "But she's on our side now."
We drove the rest of the way in a comfortable silence. The recruitment was complete. Ivy Romanoff was the final piece of the puzzle for the media arm of the empire.
We reached the hotel just as the evening lights of Kaelvi started to flicker on.
The suite was warm and smelled of room service pizza. As soon as we walked in, we were greeted by the sight of Bella, Allison, and Sandra lounging on the sofas. The television was on, playing some local news channel, but they muted it as soon as they saw us.
Bella looked at us and asked, "Why did both of you return this early? Is everything alright, boss?"
Allison looked up from her laptop. "Adam and Nari, please tell us how the meeting went? Does Miss Romanoff agree?""
Sandra laughed, pouring herself a drink. "Don't keep us in suspense, tell us? Does she demand some enormous funos or some legal right or something else?"
I took off my coat and tossed it onto a chair. "Neither."
"So, how did the meeting go?" Bella asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
Nari and I exchanged a look.
"You aren't going to believe this," Nari said, walking over to the minibar to grab a water. "We told her what we wanted. She said yes."
"She said yes?" Allison frowned. "Just like that? No negotiation?"
"She had one demand," I said, grabbing a slice of pizza. "She wanted a guarantee that we wouldn't treat her like a whore. That was it."
The three girls stared at us.
"You're joking," Sandra said. "In this industry? A top-tier actress didn't ask for a percentage of the gross? Or a trailer bigger than a house?"
"Nope," I said, chewing. "Humble. Polite. Agreed to work instantly. She's coming to Fernbury in a few days."
"I told you," Nari said, sitting down next to Allison. "It was the easiest, most confusing recruitment of my life. She's... she's just a good person. It's weird."
Allison said, " I told everyone she is clean, we will just ask nicely, and she will agree to us."
Nari said, " You are unapologetically right, though."
"Well," Bella grinned, "that means our recruitment is complete, boss." I nodded, " yes you're right, we can return to Fernbury tomorrow."
We spent the next hour relaxing. The tension of the mission had evaporated. It was just us—a group of people who were slowly taking over the world, sitting in a hotel room, eating pizza and laughing about how easy it had been.
It felt good. It felt like we were winning.
I was leaning back on the sofa, listening to Bella recount a story about how she and Sandra had spent the day in the snow, while skiing and skating, when the atmosphere suddenly shifted.
It wasn't a noise from outside. It wasn't the wind.
It was a sharp, distinct sound from the hallway.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Three heavy raps on the door of our suite.
The laughter died instantly. The room went silent.
Allison froze mid-sentence. Bella's hands stopped typing. Nari looked at the door, her eyes narrowing.
We hadn't ordered room service. We weren't expecting anyone.
I sat up slowly, the easygoing demeanor vanishing. My muscles tightened. My instinct hummed to life in the back of my mind, sensing my alertness.
Who knows we are here?
I looked at the girls, signaling them to stay put. I stood up and walked silently toward the door.
Knock. Knock.
It came again. Impatient. Heavy.
I reached for the handle, my other hand curling into a fist, ready for whatever—or whoever—was on the other side.