The presidential suite of Hotel La Lumière, in Monaco, exuded the intense aroma of expensive wine, French perfume, and sweat.
Translucent curtains fluttered with the sea breeze escaping through the open balcony. The sunset light reflected on the golden mirrors on the walls, creating an almost artistic atmosphere.
Almost.
Liam Albrights naked, sweaty, with messy hair and a silly smile on his lips, rode his own illusion of power and pleasure.
The woman beneath him, a young French actress, gasped in a mix of excitement and regret.
It was the fourth of the weekend.
His cellphone, thrown on the marble nightstand, vibrated.
Twice. Then three times.
And finally, started ringing insistently.
"Shit." Liam stopped the movement, grumbling, panting. He grabbed the device angrily. Seeing the name on the notification: Lancaster House – High Priority. His face twisted with disgust.
He read the message through clenched teeth:
"Mr. Liam, by order of patriarch Edmund Lancaster, it is expected that you immediately contact Miss Victória Lancaster to discuss the terms of the engagement contract and the public reputation of the Houses involved. Consider this an official summons. — Butler of Lancaster House."
"Official summons…" Liam repeated quietly. His eyes full of arrogance and drunkenness scanned the screen. "Who does that old man think he is?"
He turned, still on top of the woman, and in a burst of fury threw the cellphone against the wall. The device bounced and fell with a snap on the marble floor.
The actress shrank.
"Are you okay?" she asked with heavy French, worried by his fierce look.
"Shut up." Liam growled. "I paid you to moan, not to talk."
She tried to get out from under him, feeling the mood shift from eroticism to violence.
But Liam held her by the wrists.
"Do you think you can judge me now?" he yelled. "Your role is to do what I tell!"
And in a sudden move, he slapped her hard on the face.
The actress screamed, staggered out of the bed and, crying, gathered the clothes scattered on the floor.
"You damned monster...!" she murmured, covering her marked face.
"Get out of my room." Liam spat, heading straight to the minibar.
She left trembling, without even looking back.
Drinking straight from the whiskey bottle, he sank into the leather chair of the room and grabbed another cellphone.
Dialed a number without hesitation.
"Edgar. My room. Now." he said just that and hung up.
Five minutes later, Edgar, his personal assistant, appeared.
"Mr. Albrights." he said neutrally, discreetly observing the cellphone shards and the half-empty whiskey bottle.
"They are pressuring me again, Edgar. Those old bastards from Lancaster. They want me to 'contact' that bitch Victória."
Edgar blinked slowly, already used to the venom dripping from Liam's tongue when his ego was challenged.
"I imagine you refer to Miss Lancaster, your contractual future wife."
"Ugh." Liam threw a pillow away. "She thinks she's something now, right? Just because she launched some shitty face masks and got famous… Tsk. That company of hers is a fad. Let's see if it lasts until the end of the year."
Edgar raised an eyebrow. "Have you seen the market reports?"
"I don't want to see any shit." Liam growled. "I just want you to find out how I can reverse this. This tide, this whole thing of her being on top. I won't be dragged by this ridiculous wave."
"Maybe you should consider talking to her, as requested. Rebuild the diplomatic link and…"
"I don't want reconciliation." Liam stood up abruptly. "I want control."
Edgar remained silent. It was the kind of silence that said: "You're heading for the pit, and I'm just here to catalog the steps."
Liam pointed his finger. "I want you to find out everything about the Tycoon. Who the partners are. How she got rich so fast. And mainly… if there is any flaw in their system."
"Understood, sir." Edgar said, calmly taking notes.
Liam paced the room like a caged lion. "And bring me a new girl. More discreet. No actress now. Make her Asian. And mute."
Edgar put away the tablet and gave a slight nod before leaving.
Alone again, Liam stared at the distorted reflection in the mirror and, for a second, saw the shadow of a failure approaching.
But, as always, he ignored it.
He was an Albrights.
And Albrights… don't lose.
---
On the other side of the ocean, the newborn sun painted golden the stained glass of the mansion, recently bought and renovated by Victória to be her base in the Phoenix Empire.
The white canopy bed was a piece of paradise amidst the elegant modernity of the room.
And in the middle of the black satin sheets, Victória Lancaster awoke with a lazy yawn. The blanket slipped from her shoulders revealing pale skin perfect like living porcelain, messy hair, and still sleepy eyes.
She grabbed the cellphone with a still numb hand.
Notifications: – 10 new messages from Kael – 3 marketing team reminders – 1 meeting in 2 hours – Tycoon report: Asia sector
Victória smiled tenderly opening the chat with Kael, currently on a diplomatic mission in Japan.
@Kael: "Today I visited the Meiji Shrine. It's as calm as you when you're sleeping, and as beautiful as your eyes after breakfast. I miss you, my goddess."
She blushed lightly and replied: "I miss you too, my prince. One day we will go back to Tokyo together. But only if you promise not to wear those cheesy kimonos that make me laugh."
She laughed alone.
After the hot shower, she came out wrapped in steam and got ready. She chose one of her women's suits: black tailored pencil skirt, fitted blazer with discreet neckline, and dark thin stockings that hugged her long legs like liquid silk. The high heels echoed through the closet.
She looked in the mirror and raised an eyebrow.
"Too sexy for Kael's diplomacy…" she murmured.
Took a selfie, with the natural light making her hair shinier, and sent it with the caption:
"You're losing a bombshell like this just to take pictures with Asian politicians. Wrong choices, my love."
With a muffled laugh, she decided to change the look. Took another longer, looser blazer, swapped for a more modest skirt, and put on opaque tights.
Still irresistible, but with a more reserved touch — like Kael always suggested, pretending it was for diplomacy and not blatant jealousy.
Descending to the mansion's underground garage, her hand already sought the remote for her new favorite car: a black Ferrari like a forbidden promise, with chrome details and white leather seats.
But then, the cellphone vibrated with a call.
Without seeing the name, Victória answered distracted.
"Hello?"
"Good morning, my winter flower... finally I got to hear your voice again." The voice was velvety, sweet, almost charming.
But Victória froze.
Seconds of silence.
She looked at the screen.
And almost threw the cellphone against the car.
Liam Albrights.
The best-dressed emotional trash in Europe. Her contractual ex-fiancé, whom she herself had discarded like expired packaging at an international gala.
"You... dare to call me?" she said coldly, freezing the atmosphere with the tone.
"Ah, Victória… let's not start like that. I… I'm changing. Thinking better about things. I was impulsive…"
"Impulsive?" she laughed without humor. "You spend your House's money on whores, drugs and bets, and now you show up wanting to play 'gentle husband'? Go fuck yourself, Liam."
On the other side of the line, he kept a calm voice. Too calm. "I thought we should talk. After all, our union is still under the terms of the treaty between the Houses…"
"No." she replied firmly. "I have no more obligations with your name or your decadence."
She clenched her teeth, feeling pressure rising.
The morning was perfect… until that worm appeared.
"Look, Liam… if you want to talk, do it with the mirror. Or with your psychiatrist. I have companies to lead, a prince waiting for me, and an Empire to dominate. You stayed in the past. Where you belong."
Before he could answer, she hung up.
The dry sound of the "end of call" echoed like a death seal on diplomatic paper.
Victória let out a long sigh, looking at the garage ceiling. "What a waste of testosterone that man is…"
She started the Ferrari with a button and, seconds later, the roar of the engine echoed through the garage.
She accelerated, the tires screaming on the smooth asphalt.
And as she climbed the ramp, she murmured to herself. "If that idiot tries to touch the Tycoon… I'll personally destroy the Albrights lineage from history."
—Tokyo, Japan.—
In a traditional, elegant restaurant, in the heart of the imperial zone. Red lantern lights hung from the ceiling in pure silk, the calm sound of a shamisen filled the environment with class.
At the central table, Kael kept a diplomatic smile while talking with one of the most influential politicians of the Japanese Imperial Diet.
"…With Cryon's hybrid technology and the Japanese AI sector, we believe we can generate a fusion of sustainable production, on a global scale." Kael said with impeccable fluency.
"Hm, that sounds promising." answered the politician, adjusting his glasses. "Excuse me for a few minutes. We drank too much tea…"
He stood laughing and disappeared toward the bathroom.
As soon as he was alone, Kael discreetly loosened his tie. The formal atmosphere weighed on his shoulders.
But before allowing himself a sigh of relief, his cellphone vibrated discreetly in the inner pocket of his blazer.
He slid the device to his lap and unlocked the screen.
Notification: 1 new message from Victória.
As soon as he opened, the air in his lungs simply… froze.
The selfie. The suit. The thin stocking. The provocative look. And the caption:
@Victória: "You're losing a bombshell like this just to take pictures with Asian politicians. Wrong choices, my love."
Kael became stiff like a statue.
His body responded with a disconcerting intensity. The dress pants didn't help.
He coughed. Twice.
And discreetly slid his hand along the waist of his blazer, trying to disguise the sudden hormonal agony of a man in love and completely possessed by a dangerously sexy CEO.
"…That's not fair." he murmured to himself, with a half smile.
He typed quickly, fingers precise, expression divided between lust and the most ridiculous adoration possible.
@Kael: "I will kill anyone who sees this photo. You are mine, Victória. Only mine. Next time you send something like this, be prepared to face the consequences… up close."
Almost immediately, she replied.
@Victória: "Don't worry, love. I changed clothes. Now only my handsome and jealous boyfriend will see me like that."
Kael gave a half tender, half wild smile.
Yes, he was possessive. But not like men who try to control. His jealousy was not made of fear, but fascination, a desire almost reverent to protect what he considered rarer than any crown: the heart of a woman like her.
He typed again:
@Kael: "When I finish here, I'm going to Phoenix. Prepare your face… and your neck. I want to kiss both until you forget any CEO meeting."
Kael sighed with his face in his hands, trying to hold back the silly smile.
The ice prince… conquered by a woman in stockings.
At that moment, the Japanese politician returned to the table.
Kael quickly locked the screen and slid the cellphone back to the blazer like a secret agent hiding evidence of a federal crime.
"Sorry for the delay. Where were we again?"
Kael resumed impeccable posture, as if nothing had happened. "Ah, yes. About the merger of our medical AI with the Kyoto hospital project… let's continue on this point."
But inside?
Kael only thought about an airport, a direct flight to the Phoenix Empire…
And the punishment he would give to his perfect woman.
------
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