Chapter 3

To be honest, for someone as detached and reckless as Seraphina, the only person who could truly manipulate her emotions was herself.

What others defined as embarrassment or awkwardness simply did not exist in her radar.

She was only interested in the scent he carried whenever he drew near.

It was a fresh wood note, heavy with rich cedar and sandalwood, reminiscent of embracing a vast, twilight-drenched wilderness. Beneath that layer of gentleness, however, lay an innate, untamed aggression and raw power.

He was the kind of man who would whisper endless sweet words before twilight, only to deceive you into the pitch-black night and manipulate the rising tides.

The height difference was prominent; she was entirely enveloped beneath his towering shadow, looking exactly like a naive girl being coaxed by him.

Seraphina crinkled her eyes, the watery depths of her pupils radiating absolute innocence.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Sterling."

As if he were the only one capable of deception; she could play the game just as well.

The trap, the seduction, the capture, the surrender.

If he wanted her to be the prey, she would make sure she became the master.

Rhett’s knuckles continued to tap rhythmically against the marble desktop, mimicking an ancient grandfather clock standing at a medieval crossroads—the bell tolls, and the smoke of war rises.

"Why stopped?"

Throwing her own words right back at her, how brilliant.

The young intern who had been gossiping with such enthusiasm a moment ago instantly withered. Knowing she had crossed a line, she dared not lift her head, looking utterly terrified.

"Continued what?"

"..."

The young woman’s eyes held a pool of clear spring water, so clean that not a single trace of impurity could be found.

"Doesn't Mr. Sterling want me to get to know you better?"

She stared at him with pure innocence, easily masking the underlying double meaning.

The word 'know' possessed far too many definitions.

Rhett remained boundlessly patient. "What do you wish to know about me?"

"To know your entrepreneurial history, of course. I've heard you built your empire from nothing and achieved a meteoric rise. It is truly admirable."

She always possessed the unique talent of turning the most deceitful words into the most heartfelt praise.

"Mr. Sterling... please don't mind this girl. She is young and a bit playful, but her professional capability is top-tier," Mr. Harrison quickly interjected to smooth over the tension, proceeding to list Seraphina’s works and prestigious awards. "For the Sterling photoshoot, she is absolutely the unrivaled choice."

Mr. Harrison praised Seraphina to the high heavens, even going as far as guaranteeing something as absolute as her being the 'unrivaled choice.'

Beside them, the young woman kept her head bowed low, looking as though she were being scolded rather than highly commended.

Rhett remained silent, and the atmosphere grew terrifyingly cold.

Mr. Harrison cleared his throat. "Seraphina, come over and apologize!"

Seraphina's reaction was a fraction too slow. He walked right past her, that wilderness scent invading her senses before vanishing in an instant.

The man's voice rolled out slowly, gentle and polite, like the fading light before dusk.

"No need. Don't make things difficult for a young lady."

Yet in the silent darkness that belonged to no one else, he whispered his exclusive response to her.

"Getting to know my private life does not count as entrepreneurial history."

/

As the world turned into the pitch-black night, the heavy rain poured down relentlessly.

Chloe remarked, "Sterling Enterprises is planning to launch their jewelry line in the domestic market, so they're likely arranging a massive promotional campaign. But it's strange—the Sterling headquarters has been in utter turmoil lately, with an entirely new board of directors taking over. The family empire is fracturing. Sending Rhett to the Greater China region to open up a new market at a time like this looks less like a promotion and more like a calculated exile."

"Then again, it makes sense. Rhett holds the crown jewel of Sterling Enterprises in his hands. If they don't transfer him away, it's no different from placing a fiercely ambitious wolf right next to a piece of prime meat. But he truly ruined himself financially to fight for Sterling back then, enduring so much infamy along the way... I can only say that on the road of corporate ascendancy, capital eats people alive without leaving a single bone."

Seraphina leaned lazily against the counter, resembling a boneless cat.

"Chloe, dear, I asked you to accompany me to pass the time, not to listen to Mr. Sterling's corporate biography."

"You still have the nerve to say that?" Chloe rolled her eyes. "Who was the one bragging that she would bring him to his knees in three months?"

Seraphina slowly swirled her champagne flute, the amber liquid reflecting her exquisite features, illustrating the ultimate blend of pure seduction and absolute innocence.

"Did I say that?"

"..."

Chloe was entirely defeated by her careless attitude. "Didn't you two just have a battle of wits back at the studio? Who won?"

"I have no idea."

"Huh???" Chloe gasped in shock. "Did you actually admit defeat? You? Seraphina the temptress?"

Seraphina merely smiled and offered no response.

She truly didn't know who had won. Her performance had been flawless, yet he had effortlessly seen right through her at the very last second.

Rhett had stated that knowing his private life didn't count as business history, yet she could still distinctly hear his deep, magnetic voice echoing within her eardrums, casually whispering:

"—How exactly do you wish to know me?"

In a game of seduction where moves were exchanged, the ultimate taboo was to show your hand first.

Yet he chose not to expose her. As they moved piece by piece, it remained entirely unknown whether this was a game of chess to see who would survive, or a meticulous web designed to entrap her completely.

It was impossible to tell.

Chloe nudged her. "Seraphina, your phone."

Seraphina's WeChat interface was permanently flooded with over 999 notifications. She tapped into her mother’s chat, noting that Eleanor Vance had made ten phone calls within the span of five minutes. Seeing that they went unanswered, her mother had resorted to a barrage of voice messages.

[If you don't want to work anymore, just say so. Why did you have to resort to physical violence? Out fooling around all day and night? It is time to grow up, Seraphina. Behaving this recklessly is utterly unseemly.]

[Next month is the birthday of the youngest son of the prestigious family. Clear your schedule and don't play any tricks.]

Seraphina texted back: [He insulted me.]

[If a dog bites you, do you bite back? You are in the real world now, not school. Don't you understand that a wise man bides his time? Your temperament is fundamentally unsuited for a photographer anyway. Give in and let the family arrange your life sooner rather than later.]

As if predicting exactly how Seraphina would reply, Eleanor added one final line: [I have frozen your cards.]

This was hitting her right where it hurt.

Seraphina downed the rest of her champagne, the initial bitterness fading to leave her tongue coated in pure sweetness.

Chloe asked, "Is your mother forcing you to come home and inherit the family empire again?"

"She's playing for keeps this time; she froze my accounts," Seraphina even found the humor to joke around. "Chloe, sweetie, care to sugar-mama your poor little friend?"

"..."

"There isn't a single person in this entire circle wealthy enough to support your lifestyle, and I am merely a miserable, wage-earning editor. Good luck to you, Seraphina."

Chloe came from an ordinary background and currently worked as a fashion editor for IESY, one of the top five prominent fashion magazines in the country. The advantage of being an editor for a renowned magazine was the ability to fluidly grasp all gossip traversing the intersection of fashion and entertainment, which explained why she could talk about Sterling Enterprises with such authority.

In the fashion industry, connections were everything.

For Chloe to climb from an ordinary background to her current status, the benefits she received through her friendship with Seraphina had played a significant role.

"That is truly tragic," Seraphina murmured.

"What do you plan to do next? You weren't just fired by the studio; Mr. Chen has been actively building upon your 'prestigious reputation' out there."

Seraphina had broken her boss's arms in broad daylight, but Mr. Chen's psychological abuse and sexual harassment had occurred behind closed doors. The news of Seraphina’s violence had spread first, and the elite circle utterly despised reckless newcomers who showed zero respect to corporate capital.

Finding a new project would be exceptionally difficult now.

"If you had known it would turn out like this, you should have accepted a few more prominent commercial bookings in the past. Now, your strength and reputation haven't been established out there, and you've been driven into a corner by those fools," Chloe sighed helplessly. "Weren't you doing amazing when you were abroad? Why did you turn into a lazy creature the moment you returned?"

Seraphina had initially gone abroad for a gap year, during which her parents forced her to study business. Refusing to comply, she took matters into her own hands after a single year and successfully gained admission into Yale—the ultimate sanctuary that countless art students dreamed of entering.

Her photographic works possessed a distinct style; they were delicate, richly textured, ethereal, and daring. In her second year at Yale, Seraphina was commissioned by IESY for a commercial shoot.

A student who hadn't even graduated, landing the cover of one of the top five magazines—it was a literal miracle.

To this day, people still claimed she was "born for photography."

Regrettably, this industry evolved far too quickly. If Seraphina failed to continuously produce exceptional works, she would eventually be swallowed by the passage of time.

"Who knows," Seraphina replied carelessly. "Perhaps everyone simply assumes I am far too expensive."

"Well, you are ridiculously expensive," Chloe nodded repeatedly in agreement.

"..."

"What now? You can't seriously intend to just manage M2 Lounge forever, can you?" Chloe stared at the wild, pulsing crowd on the dance floor before her eyes suddenly lit up. "I've got it! Isn't Rhett planning to shoot a promotional campaign for the Sterling jewelry line? He must place extreme importance on it!"

"What makes you say that?"

The Sterling jewelry line had already established its prestigious reputation globally. Given Rhett's ruthless capability, conquering the domestic market was merely a matter of time.

"Otherwise, why would a towering CEO like him personally visit your tiny studio?" Chloe reasoned. "Sterling is a premier luxury brand that countless people would kill to associate with. If you can land the deal for their flagship jewelry line, with your capability, this minor setback won't even be a problem anymore."

Seraphina nodded, her expression turning serious. "However, he didn't seem to take an interest in me."

"Huh?!"

"Uncle Harrison already introduced me to him, yet I haven't received a single follow-up regarding an intent to collaborate."

"Didn't you just claim he came to the studio specifically to see you?" Chloe patted Seraphina's shoulder, teasing gently. "You understand this better than I do—opportunities must be engineered by hand."

/

Opportunities indeed required human engineering, but with a bit of luck, they could be delivered right to your doorstep.

Mingled with the deafening beats echoing within M2 Lounge, the rain outside grew increasingly violent.

Having loitered around the lounge for several consecutive days, Seraphina was thoroughly growing tired of the nightlife scene.

She stood lazily beneath a streetlamp, letting the neon lights dye the tips of her hair. Despite the late hour, she looked like a creature who would never enter the darkness, entirely dominating the interplay of light and shadow.

With her as the origin point, a clear boundary emerged between the day and the night.

At the opposite end of the daylight was the darkness.

He had likely just wrapped up a meeting. His shirt wasn't fastened all the way to the top like last time; his deep collarbones were exposed, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. It looked as though if she were to give it a gentle tug, it would fall apart entirely.

A woman stood beside him, completely different from the social butterflies she had seen before.

Seraphina watched the drama unfold. How a woman chose to entangle herself with him outside the boundaries of M2 Lounge was none of her business.

Only now did Seraphina truly register his height; he was easily six-foot-two with immaculate body proportions, looking every bit as stunning as the professional male models she had photographed in the past. Possessing such broad shoulders, leaning against him to sleep must be exceptionally comfortable.

The woman beside him likely shared the exact same thought. Clutching his arm tightly, she pressed her body against his side, delivering an invitation to exchange souls.

"I can give you everything! Whatever you want, I can give it to you!"

Seraphina caught the woman's voice, which verged on a desperate plea. "Did you truly never love me? Do you really not like me at all?"

She entangled herself with him, begging for a shred of tenderness.

Just a little more, just a fraction more.

Did he grant it?

He did.

Rhett calmly withdrew his arm from her grasp, the streetlamp amidst the storm softening the sharp contours of his jawline.

"Go home early," he said.

His voice dissolved into the roaring rain—a dreamlike threat, a half-real, half-fake line of endearment.

Those few words that could effortlessly disrupt the calmest waters ruthlessly destroyed the woman's remaining sanity.

The woman stepped into the pouring rain, her silhouette walking away until she vanished completely.

Seraphina didn't see Rhett move a single inch.

He was willing to grant women a fraction of tenderness only because he chose to.

The moment they foolishly attempted to cross that line, tearing down his gentlemanly facade, they would find nothing but ice-cold, detached frost beneath.

Therefore, one must never cross the boundary.

A bolt of lightning struck near the dim streetlamp, the heavy storm appearing to target him directly. The man’s silhouette stood tall and commanding. Turning against the flickering, menacing night sky, his eyes locked directly onto her.

A galaxy of stars seemed to rest behind him.

And he was walking toward her.

The boundary between day and night was rapidly shrinking, yet she remained firmly rooted within the daylight, refusing to budge.

"Waiting for someone?" Rhett asked.

Seraphina discovered she was growing addicted to his voice. It sounded like a cello playing exclusively for her on a stormy night—turning through endless loops, boundlessly tender.

Even though he used the exact same voice for everyone. Even when rejecting that woman just now, he had maintained that identical tenderness.

Seraphina replied, "No. The rain is too heavy to leave."

They stood within close proximity. As a violent gust of wind swept past, the vibrant fabric of her red dress swirled against his tailored trousers. Like a pet unable to find its owner, the fabric restlessly tangled and wrapped around his legs—a striking collision of red and black.

Once, and then again.

He didn't move, and she didn't speak.

The chaotic, intrusive drops of water found every opening, sliding along the edges of the awning to splash beside their feet.

In this clash of red and black, who exactly would be the first to be soaked through by the sudden storm?

His car arrived—a pristine Rolls-Royce. The driver respectfully handed him a large black umbrella.

Seraphina loathed waiting. The moment he took a step forward, she simultaneously stepped out into the rainy night.

Yet, entirely beyond her expectations—

The relentless rain clattered violently against the black fabric above. He held the umbrella aloft, preserving a sanctuary of absolute peace for her amidst this wild, stormy night.

The man's towering frame was right beside her, and the damp corner of her red dress leaned against him without a shred of restraint.

Looking as though she were dragging his absolute darkness down into an endless night.

Seraphina couldn't quite snap out of it. "Is something the matter?"

Rhett appeared to have predicted all along that she would brave the rain regardless, tilting the majority of the umbrella to shelter her side.

"You'll get sick. Don't walk in the rain."

Along with the dampness of the storm, his sultry voice flowed directly into her ear.

"Thank you," Seraphina replied, inherently loathing to owe anyone a favor. "But it's unnecessary."

The torrential downpour slammed against the umbrella with a deafening roar, sounding like a frantic, chaotic musical score that blocked out all external sound.

Rhett didn't move an inch, merely staring down at her.

His eyes permanently carried an ambiguous, deeply passionate look, appearing even denser than the midnight surrounding them.

The rain was simply too loud; Seraphina assumed he hadn't heard her clearly. "Can you not hear me speaking?"

While the storm outside raged with hidden dangers, they converged within the ambiguous, rippling space beneath the umbrella.

"Yeah," he murmured, looking down at her, a faint trace of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Can't hear you clearly. Step closer and say it."