Chapter 2

The alumni gathering was utterly boring. Seraphina still needed to make an appearance at her friend's side of the venue anyway. Not long after she walked upstairs, driven by her natural instinct to admire beautiful things and beautiful people, her gaze drifted back to the man.

The rule of the nightlife was simple: mutual consent, and knowing when to back off.

Yet, there were always those who refused to recognize the boundaries and chose to ignore the rules.

His table certainly didn't lack women; they came in every variety, an endless, flowing stream. But the social butterflies fluttering around him were being uncooperative. Failing to read between the lines of his subtle rejections, they kept pressing their pale, bare skin against his side.

It was an eyesore.

Seraphina quickened her steps. Reaching out, she caught the hand of a woman who was trying to slide her fingers across his chest, intercepting the unwanted advance before it could go any further.

"Be smart, girl," Seraphina murmured.

Her sudden intervention caused the surrounding air to fall silent for two seconds before his friends burst into amused, teasing laughter.

"What's the situation here? Is Mr. Sterling actually being rescued by a beautiful maiden tonight?"

"Little girl, did you ever consider that you might be blocking his romance?"

Seraphina turned her eyes directly to the man on the sofa. "Mr. Sterling, am I blocking your romance?"

She asked with absolute sincerity. Paired with her watery, captivating eyes, her expression seemed entirely businesslike.

If there was anything out of place, it was the way the title "Mr. Sterling" rolled off her tongue, her soft, sweet cadence lingering playfully in the air.

Rhett raised his eyes, and their gazes locked.

When he wasn't smiling, he exuded nothing but detachment and an unforgiving, ice-cold aura, his sheer pressure tightly wrapping around anyone near him. Yet she didn't show even a flicker of hesitation. Her eyes were bright and clever, as if she had been certain of his answer all along.

Seraphina was standing, meaning from her perspective, she was looking down at him from a position of superiority. Yet he gave her the strange illusion that she was the one being led by the nose.

She suddenly grew curious. A man possessing such unyielding pride—just when exactly would he bow his head to someone?

"Looks like we ran into someone who doesn't know the rules," Julian Sinclair said, casually chasing away the woman who had started the trouble. He added in a playful tone, "How could this be considered blocking a romance? The moment Miss Vance steps over here, his romance has officially bloomed."

Seraphina was famous within Manhattan's elite circles. The people at this table were all rich and powerful, so it was no surprise she was recognized.

The light and shadow shifted within his dark eyes as he stared straight at her, an indescribable depth of passion pouring over her.

It seemed as though if she simply nodded her head, he would carry her out into the pouring rain outside.

Soaking her through, pulling her into the rising tide.

Seraphina caught his very quiet response: "Yeah."

The timbre of his voice was even more sultry and romantic than she had imagined, deep enough to resonate in her bones.

He was answering Julian's statement.

Yet it was impossible to guess whether his agreement was for running into someone who didn't know the rules, or for the claim that her arrival meant his romance had bloomed.

A true predator.

"Let me introduce you. This beautiful lady is practically half the owner of M2 Lounge, Seraphina," Julian announced.

"Consider tonight a case of poor hospitality on my part," Seraphina said, gesturing for the staff to open more bottles. The bitter scent of champagne mingled with the hazy smoke. "Allow me to offer some wine as an apology."

Julian watched from the side, fighting the urge to laugh.

She had likely noticed that every single woman who tried to offer Rhett a drink had been rejected. By using such a dignified, unassailable excuse as making amends, she left him with absolutely no reason to turn her down.

Seraphina was truly a temptress.

Too bad she had finally met her match.

An amber glow swirled within the glass at her fingertips as Seraphina extended it forward. It was a slender flute, and she held it near the top rim. If he wanted to take it, he would inevitably have to brush against her fingers.

She did it deliberately, and Rhett knew it.

She had neatly laid out a trap for him to step into. He walked right toward it, yet perfectly managed to bypass her calculation.

Rhett merely lifted his own glass and tapped it lightly against hers. The amber champagne clinked against his deep red wine, creating a curious yet beautifully harmonious contrast.

"It is impolite to let a young lady drink."

His magnetic tone was far more intoxicating than nicotine or alcohol.

He truly sounded as though he were genuinely concerned about whether a young woman out at night was drinking to excess.

He maintained a fraction of gentleness for women.

Yet he never openly spoke of his rejection.

Seraphina watched him finish his own glass, and having delivered her excuse for the toast, she set her flute down on the table. She didn't seem to care much about the subtle refusal, deliberately placing her champagne glass barely half an inch away from his hand.

"Then I must thank you, Mr. Sterling."

The champagne glass still carried the lingering warmth of her touch, and that tiny speck of heat wrapped restlessly around Rhett's fingertips.

Just like her presence.

Rhett replied, "You are most welcome."

"..."

Having achieved her immediate goal, Seraphina’s patience dissolved. She exchanged a few casual pleasantries before using the alumni gathering downstairs as an excuse to take her leave.

The straps of her slip dress swayed gracefully with her movements. The young woman's dark hair partially veiled her pale, elegant shoulder blades, leaving them half-hidden, half-exposed.

A butterfly dancing gracefully through a rainy night.

The warmth on the glass gradually dissipated, like a beautiful, fleeting dream drenched in a sudden spring tide.

Julian spoke up, "The high school alumni association is meeting downstairs. You used to be schoolmates after all, Rhett. Aren't you going down to take a look?"

Rhett didn't even lift his eyes, his silence making his stance perfectly clear.

Only after Seraphina had been gone for a while did someone at the table finally react.

"Wait, is that Seraphina the one I think she is? From Vance Capital, one of the top financial institutions in the country?"

Julian snapped his fingers. "Bingo. The terrifying part about this heiress is that her parents' marriage was a massive corporate merger. Both sides are towering empires in the business world, meaning her background runs deeper than anyone can fathom."

With Seraphina as the focal point, the group of men began chatting animatedly.

"Whoever marries that princess is set for three generations. Seriously though, Seraphina is pure seduction. Plus, that innocent, vulnerable look in her eyes is just too captivating."

"As if she'd ever look at you," Julian scoffed. "She already has her heart set on someone. I heard her say it myself—she gives it three months to bring him down."

Julian cast a highly suggestive glance at Rhett, his meaning entirely implicit.

The rest of the wealthy heirs instantly caught on and began teasing loudly.

"What do you say to that? Three months?"

The man leaning back against the sofa finally lifted his eyelids. His dark, deep pupils held a faint trace of amusement, carrying a lazy, devastating charm.

"She won't succeed."

The roaring laughter grew even more unbridled, causing passing patrons to turn their heads in curiosity.

Julian glanced across the table. The various drinks that other women had brought over to entice Rhett were all cast aside, untouched. Except for that slender champagne flute, which now stood completely empty.

Rhett never drank anything brought to him by women. Someone must have mistaken which glass was his.

/

Seraphina's daily routine usually involved sleeping until the sun was high in the sky and only fully waking up by the afternoon.

Today, she had to visit that miserable photography studio to settle her affairs once and for all. Main reason being her high-end phase-one camera was still left there. In her worldview, cameras were far more precious than men; she absolutely loathed it when anyone else so much as laid a finger on her gear.

The trash studio was actually a fairly large operation, complete with everything from hair and makeup to specialized marketing teams for their photographers. Seraphina belonged to the commercial fashion photography wing, a circle that dealt most heavily with corporate capital.

The receptionist brought a glass of milk to her room, her hands shaking slightly, likely out of fear.

"Please... please wait for just a moment. Mr. Harrison is currently in a meeting discussing matters with an important guest."

"Alright. Thank you."

The young intern's eyes kept lingering on her.

Seraphina was wearing a French-style, square-necked red dress today. Her long, voluminous curls tumbled lazily across her shoulders and neck, the fiery red hem of the dress swirling around her slender, well-proportioned calves. It perfectly wrapped her seductive allure within an aura of pure innocence.

She was so incredibly beautiful.

The intern nervously tugged at her own skirt. It was her first time wearing a dress to the studio, and standing before a vision like Seraphina, she couldn't help but feel deeply self-conscious.

The beauty tilted her head, a trace of warmth rising from the corners of her eyes like the arrival of spring, clear and striking straight to the heart.

"It looks very pretty," Seraphina praised gently. "This outfit suits you perfectly."

Her expression was entirely genuine, filled with sincere appreciation.

The intern's face instantly flushed crimson from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. "I thought someone like you... wouldn't notice a small character like me."

"I am a photographer."

And a photographer never lacked the ability to discover beauty.

Flattered by the compliment, the intern felt a little lightheaded. "Thank you... You, you are far more beautiful!"

Seraphina watched the young girl rush out of the room, her lips curving into a soft smile.

Young girls were really too easy to fluster.

Seraphina had zero patience for waiting around. After sitting for barely two minutes, she headed straight to her private office to retrieve her camera. As she passed the breakroom, the conversation drifting from inside was perfectly clear.

"Done serving the princess? She’s the only one in the entire company who drinks milk, and she always demands someone to wait on her hand and foot."

"I knew from the start Seraphina wouldn't last long here. Her demands for photography are absolute madness. Nitpicking and finding fault with everything. Any project that passes through her hands ends up with a budget well over a million. It must all be business passed down through her family connections."

The intern spoke up weakly, "But everyone agrees her work is worth every single penny."

Corporate clients weren't fools; the return on investment always had to outweigh the cost.

"So what? Do you think just anyone has the kind of capital she has to play around with? Take that top-tier young male idol she shot last time—the moment the shoot wrapped, she went straight to a luxury hotel with him. It's like she'll die if she doesn't have a man around."

"Don't talk about her like that. I think Seraphina is a very nice person..."

"Nice? Do you honestly believe people from her billionaire circle—"

Knock, knock.

The breakroom was a long, corridor-style space, and the sudden sound made everyone inside shudder with terror.

"Why stopped?" Seraphina leaned against the doorframe, her vibrant, untamed red dress completely dominating the entrance. "I was listening with great interest. Please, keep going."

"..."

The image of her effortlessly breaking her boss's arms was still fresh in their minds. Who would dare utter another syllable?

The employees repeatedly bowed and offered rushed apologies, crouching low as they scrambled out through the gap in the doorway.

This was the exact scene Rhett witnessed when he arrived. The young woman hadn't even lifted a finger, yet she had managed to terrify everyone around her into trembling.

Mr. Harrison frowned deeply, stepping forward. "Seraphina! Causing trouble again!"

"How could I?" Seraphina turned her head and let out a light laugh. "Uncle Harrison, they were simply fostering corporate bonding with me."

"..." Mr. Harrison was utterly powerless against her temper, shooting her a pointed look to indicate an important guest was standing right beside him, silently warning her to stop misbehaving.

Seraphina's gaze traveled slowly over the man standing next to him.

He wore a proper suit today, looking significantly more reserved, his shirt buttons fastened all the way up to his collar without exposing an inch of skin. Yet the raw power and hunger in his eyes still seemed to silently dare someone to undo his tie.

Seraphina extended her hand, behaving exactly as one would toward a complete stranger.

"Hello. I'm Seraphina Vance."

The man's hand was rough, calloused from years of labor, while the woman's fingers were warm, soft, and lingering.

A wave of heat traveled across their fingers, slowly sinking straight into the center of her palm. Within those brief seconds, it felt as though he had ruthlessly invaded every inch of her territory.

"Hello. I'm Rhett Sterling."

The young woman stared into his eyes, a clear smile breaking across her features, her sweet tone sounding far more tempting than her touch.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Sterling."

Mr. Harrison gave Seraphina a silent, stern warning before guiding Rhett up to the conference room to begin their negotiations. Once the tension dissolved, the remaining crowd quickly scattered like birds.

Seraphina walked over to the receptionist's desk. "Thank you for earlier."

She was referring to the girl defending her in the breakroom.

The intern's face turned red. She had merely spoken her mind, yet Seraphina had gone out of her way to protect her from any corporate retaliation.

She was truly so kind and gentle.

"It's nothing... I couldn't really do much to help anyway."

"If they ever try to make things difficult for you, you can come work as my personal assistant," Seraphina offered, her eyes then drifting toward the upper floor. "Who was the man just now?"

The intern, completely enchanted by Seraphina's charm, spilled everything she knew. "That's the CEO of Sterling Enterprises for the Greater China region. He's here to negotiate the shoot for their new seasonal jewelry line."

Sterling Enterprises was a luxury empire that everyone desperately sought to associate with, established in France back in the 1900s. In both the fashion and entertainment industries, models and celebrities would do absolutely anything to land an endorsement deal with them.

"This CEO is incredibly ruthless. He built himself up entirely from nothing. Originally, the jewelry line was going to be completely abandoned by the parent company. He signed a massive high-stakes wager agreement, risking everything to protect the jewelry division. Back then, Mr. Sterling wasn't some wealthy tycoon; when he made that bet, he even took out massive loans and mortgaged his entire personal company. He also hired a completely unknown designer for the line, making sweeping, aggressive changes. It was absolutely reckless."

Hearing this, Seraphina finally understood his background.

When Sterling Enterprises hit a financial crisis years ago, the jewelry line wasn't their flagship product, leaving it completely neglected and on the brink of collapse. Upon taking office, he laid off nearly half the workforce, and the internet was still filled with criticism calling his actions the cold-blooded, heartless moves of corporate capital.

Yet under such a brutal and oppressive environment, whether it was sheer luck or an extraordinary eye for talent, the jewelry line survived. It even became the crown jewel of the entire brand, and the unknown designer he hired went on to become a world-renowned creative genius in the fashion world.

Heartless, yet exceptionally capable.

He truly was an untamable, wild wolf.

"Ahem."

The intern was so swept up in sharing the gossip with Seraphina that she completely failed to notice the movement behind her.

"I heard Mr. Sterling used to have a wild private life. Years ago, he was always surrounded by countless celebrities and beautiful women, living very fast. It's only been the last few years that he stopped playing around."

"Ahem, ahem—"

Seraphina found it entirely understandable. If she possessed a dangerously handsome face like his, she certainly wouldn't bind herself to a single tree either.

Drinking and enjoying life with beautiful women—wasn't that pure happiness?

Except... he stopped playing around recently?

Seraphina rested her chin in her palm, her expression shifting into one of mild concern.

"Is it because... he can no longer perform?"

"..."

The annoying coughing sound persisted behind her. Seraphina turned around, intending to ask if someone needed medicine.

The man who was supposed to be trapped in the conference room stood right there. His long, straight legs came to a halt directly in front of her, his broad shoulders and narrow waist casting a tall shadow across the floor.

The man's knuckles tapped lazily against the desktop, entirely unbothered.

"Hmm?"