Chapter 5

Seraphina sat inside his private office. Not far away from her was the very dress shirt he had just taken off. She had successfully stepped right into the scenery, yet her mind remained completely intoxicated by the view from moments ago.

Tsk.

Blame it on that damn phone call.

Rhett poured her a glass of water. "Here to ask about a collaboration?"

Seraphina felt this gesture of pouring water carried far too much underlying meaning. If she drank it, wouldn't it look like a guilty reaction to her throat being parched just now? But if she refused, wouldn't it look like an obvious cover-up?

She overthought it, driving herself straight into a mental dead end, before finally realizing after a good while that something was entirely wrong.

Clearly, he was the one who had deliberately seduced her, yet he acted exactly like an innocent bystander, talking business with her with absolute gravity.

He truly was a dangerous predator.

Seraphina cleared her throat, regaining her composure. "Thank you for the umbrella. And yes, I came to inquire about work. This is my portfolio; I hope you can spare a few minutes."

Rhett was visibly casual, merely flipping to the very first page. He casually tapped a finger against a specific print—the exact one Chloe had asked about earlier.

"How long did you wait to shoot this?"

"Not counting the initial preparations, I waited for three days."

His words carried a trace of double meaning. "You certainly have patience for this."

"It is my profession."

"Is that so?" Rhett cut straight to the point. "Give me a single reason to choose you."

Seraphina finally understood why the conference room from earlier had felt like a living hell. She was experiencing the exact same sensation right now.

The sheer pressure Rhett exuded was far too heavy. Every few words held a hidden needle, making her feel as though she were walking along the edge of a jagged cliff where a single misstep would plunge her into a bottomless abyss.

He certainly didn't lack blank checks. The individuals stepping out of that conference room were all top-tier international photographers, possessing immaculate teams and outstanding bodies of work.

He was asking her—a lone wolf whose personal studio hadn't even been properly established yet—just what right she had to move him.

Yes, what right did she have?

Seraphina rested her chin in her palm, her cat-like, lazy demeanor resurfacing as her captivating eyes curved with a hint of deep affection.

"I want you to help me. Does that count as a reason?"

She didn't address him as Mr. Sterling, nor did she use any formal honorifics.

The little cat was experimentally extending her soft paws, shamelessly acting spoiled toward him.

Would he accept it or push her away?

Rhett's gaze enveloped her, matching the ambiguous, shifting fog outside the window.

He let out a low chuckle, his voice dropping into a deep, magnetic rasp that sounded like a dark omen enticing a soul to plummet straight into a starry night.

/

Inside a chaotic, pulsing nightlife venue like M2 Lounge, only someone like Seraphina could sit within a booth as steady as a monk, holding her laptop and tablet to map out her photography proposals.

Without even lifting her eyes, Seraphina could instantly guess the identity of the flamboyantly dressed woman approaching. "Your outfit looks very fashionable today."

"The facade is exceptionally important in the fashion industry. A new intern arrived at IESY a couple of days ago, acting far more high-and-mighty than I ever did back in my day. When I inquired later, turns out she's the daughter of a prominent tycoon," Chloe looked up and sighed in exhaustion. "For a poor person like me to blend into this circle, it's honestly far too difficult to survive."

"..."

Chloe nudged her. "So, what about your follow-up?"

Seraphina's pen paused. "Follow-up?"

The light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows had rested against his features, looking warm, gentle, and perfectly gentlemanly as always.

Seraphina had deliberately acted obedient. "What kind of compensation do you want, sir?"

He had smiled faintly. "The Sterling photoshoot."

Seraphina understood his underlying meaning. He wanted her to shoot for Sterling completely free of charge. It was a rare moment where she truly marvelled at the sheer exploitative capacity of corporate capital.

The dim lights of the lounge danced across the tips of Seraphina's hair.

Chloe gasped, "Don't tell me you refused? Even if Sterling demanded you to pay them out of your own pocket, you have to accept the shoot, do you understand? An opportunity this magnificent cannot be found anywhere else even if you searched with a lantern."

"I know."

"Just endure it. Mr. Sterling is clearly opening a back door for you. Even if it's a bit excessive, there isn't a single photographer from that conference room who wouldn't kill to sink their teeth into a prime piece of meat like Sterling. Even if Rhett is merely the CEO of the Greater China region right now, he holds the absolute lifeblood of Sterling in his hands. The jewelry line remains a premier global luxury brand; to become its premier photographer, that reputation out there would be incredibly sweet."

"He is a businessman," Seraphina countered. "He merely granted an opportunity. In the end, we still have to rely on our own capabilities to land the project."

It wasn't opening a back door at all.

It was pure, unadulterated exploitation of labor.

"...Huh?" Chloe snapped out of it, realizing the statement meant she still had to compete against those veteran photographers. "You still haven't locked him down?"

Seraphina gestured toward the massive pile of sketches before her, her voice sounding lazy and drawn out due to sheer exhaustion.

"I am locking him down."

"Look at the time. Don't tell me you haven't slept at all?" Chloe frowned deeply.

Seraphina was indeed exceptionally busy. Ever since she secured the opportunity from Sterling, she had been frantically digging through archives and brainstorming concepts, completely failing to close her eyes until now. The Sterling jewelry line had never launched a promotional campaign domestically; she needed to both stun the audience to protect the brand's prestige and deliver a flawless concept before the veteran photography teams could.

Racing against time was truly no easy feat.

Seraphina added, "I still have to keep an eye on this miserable lounge."

The patrons visiting M2 Lounge were almost exclusively wealthy heirs and tycoons. If those young masters ever caused a scene, the general manager wouldn't be able to suppress them at all.

For convenience, she sat on the second floor, looking down upon the crowd with absolute indifference, unintentionally radiating the aura of a queen staring down at tiny insects.

"Beautiful girl, would you do me the honor of sharing a drink?" A man carrying a heavy scent of alcohol and tobacco rested his hand against the back of Seraphina's booth.

Chloe lowered her voice to deliver a cautious warning: "Be careful, this one is a prominent young master as well."

Behind the man stood a cluster of patrons watching the scene unfold. It was likely another tedious bet to see who could secure her contact information.

Seraphina remained silent for a long while. Just as the man opened his mouth to speak again—

"Sure."

The young woman's slender fingers gripped her glass, swirling it gently. The ice cubes danced along with the rich, deep golden liquid, the heavy aroma of the alcohol acting like an implicit, secret code within this hazy, deafening environment.

The man stared at her movements, completely losing his train of thought for a moment.

"Aren't you drinking?" Seraphina asked softly.

The man downed his glass in response, his eyes turning glazed. "Why aren't you drinking?"

"I get drunk far too easily," Seraphina continued to pour the liquid, her voice sounding incredibly soft, filtered through the surrounding haze of smoke and alcohol. "Drinking to excess must feel very unpleasant, right?"

The majestic queen stepped down from her palace, staring into your eyes with absolute devotion, looking as though she were silently asking, Could you truly bear to make me suffer?

One glance, then another, resembling the lingering smoke floating through the air.

The man returned to his table completely disoriented, met with a barrage of mocking laughter from his friends.

"Are you stupid? Didn't you go over there to make her drink? How come she didn't touch a drop, yet you downed the strongest glass with the worst delayed hit?"

"Did you completely lose your mind staring at a beautiful woman? Weren't you supposed to go over and get her contact information?"

"..."

The man attempted to peer through the thin veil of fog across the room. The young woman leaned back lazily against her booth, still maintaining that unassailable, high-and-mighty posture.

She had never stepped down from her palace; it was he who had willingly and miserably crawled close to her feet.

"Fuck."

"..."

Chloe almost wanted to applaud Seraphina, yet this didn't exactly feel like a situation worthy of celebration.

She had always behaved exactly like a siren.

Coaxing you, deceiving you, loving you.

She spun a beautiful dream with her own hands, enticing you to drown within it, before casting you aside without a shred of remorse.

Just like this throat-burning, rose-infused hard liquor—beyond the brief hint of sweetness upon entry, the remaining aftermath held an endless, sweeping intoxication that belonged to you and you alone.

/

"Miss Vance!! The patrons are tearing each other apart!"

The shattered shards of glass scattered across the private room reflected a scene of absolute devastation. A man with silver-dyed hair and a prominent scar across his eyebrow stood there, blood trickling down his cheek. The dim blue architectural lighting cast an aura of pure rebellion around his frame.

Seeing Seraphina approach, the man leaned against the doorframe as though he possessed no bones, tilting his head to greet her. "Hello, Miss Vance."

Seraphina found the task of remembering names thoroughly exhausting. She narrowed her eyes to process his features for several seconds. "Julian..."

"Julian Sinclair."

The general manager rapidly briefed Seraphina on the sequence of events.

The party responsible for starting the brawl was the exact man who had lost a bet and come over to搭訕 earlier. Fuelled by alcohol, the man had begun spewing an endless stream of crude, offensive remarks that were utterly intolerable. Julian already held past grievances against this individual, and one thing leading to another, fists began to fly.

Seraphina synthesized the crucial information: Julian had picked a fight with this individual on her account, and his face had been injured in the process.

The intoxicated man had mostly sobered up by now, his face bruised and battered from Julian's fists, looking exceptionally unseemly.

Seraphina spoke up, "My apologies. M2 Lounge owes you a personal favor for tonight's trouble."

"Seraphina—" Julian had absolutely no intention of letting a woman clean up his mess.

"Quiet." Seraphina hadn't slept properly for three or four consecutive days; truth be told, her temper was currently balancing on the verge of absolute explosion.

Julian averted his eyes, falling silent.

Chloe attempted to soothe the wealthy heir's ruffled feathers, whispering softly, "Don't worry, Seraphina has never been one to get the short end of the stick."

The intoxicated man decided to cut his losses. "We were the ones in the wrong tonight. Consider it our table owing a favor."

"How convenient. I, for one, absolutely loathe being owed favors," Seraphina's hand casually closed around an empty liquor bottle, weighing it experimentally in her palm. "Why don't we settle the score tonight?"

"...?"

Standing to the side, Julian had entirely failed to predict that the conversation could take such a sudden leap.

With a resounding crash, the bottle in her hand slammed against the edge of the table, exploding into a jagged spray of glass.

A trace of amusement broke across the young woman's captivating eyes. Her black dress swept past the carpet of shattered glass as she walked slowly and deliberately until she stood directly in front of the man.

"His face was cut. Return the favor, and we are square."

"..."

"Unwilling?" Her voice was incredibly soft and sweet, sounding exactly like a tender endearment. "Then shall I assist you?"

"..."

Several massive security guards rapidly stepped forward, pinning the man down tightly.

Trembling, terror, absolute panic.

She chose to ignore it all.

Seraphina gripped a jagged glass shard, drawing progressively closer, her frame radiating a fresh scent of roses and jasmine—an incredibly innocent, sweet aroma.

"In the future, make sure you never spew garbage around women again."

/

Julian hadn't merely suffered a cut to his face; his clothing was largely drenched in alcohol, turning exceptionally sticky and uncomfortable once it dried.

Seraphina inherently detested owing favors. Even if Julian held past grievances with the individual, the fact that he fought on her account played a minor role. Leaving him behind to fend for himself was out of the question.

She simply resolved to bring him back to the Riverview Penthouses to wash up.

"Chloe already went to purchase a change of clothes for you, and a family doctor will arrive shortly," Seraphina said.

Julian surveyed her residence—the sketches scattered across the floor, the various archival materials related to Sterling, and the high-end Sterling jewelry carelessly tossed right next to takeout boxes.

He could already distinctly feel the absolute luxury and unbridled chaos of this heiress's lifestyle.

Seraphina possessed zero life skills but maximum destructive capabilities. She thoroughly enjoyed shopping, yet loathed unboxing her purchases, leaving massive crates and parcels piled haphazardly across the space. If a housekeeper failed to visit for a single day, her home would turn into an absolute disaster zone.

Seraphina remained entirely unfazed. "The housekeeper arrives tomorrow. This is my home."

"..."

Julian had lived a reckless life, yet this was his very first time encountering someone far more lawless than himself.

"You just brought a grown man back to your apartment like this. Aren't you afraid?"

Seraphina sat on the carpet reviewing her archives, her dark hair tumbling lazily across her face, looking exactly like a helpless, docile cat.

"You are welcome to try."

"..."

Julian recalled the scene from M2 Lounge, and a wave of goosebumps instantly broke across his skin. He chose to hold his tongue, turning around to step into the bathroom to wash up.

Seraphina was exceptionally busy. Having been a lazy creature for far too long, adapting to a frantic work rhythm so abruptly felt somewhat foreign. When she retrieved her deliveries earlier, she appeared to have forgotten to shut the front door completely, and a rustling commotion drifted from the corridor outside.

This new neighbor was certainly making a grand entrance.

Seraphina failed to locate her slippers amidst the chaotic mountain of archives, so she simply walked barefoot across the sound-absorbing carpet to shut the door.

Despite being directly across the hall, the distance separating their entryways was quite vast.

Her eyes caught a familiar silhouette—the very secretary she had encountered at the Sterling headquarters. Within moments, the man’s towering frame came into view.

Seraphina leaned lazily against her doorframe.

How incredibly convenient.

Seraphina could now confirm that besides mind-reading capabilities, Sterling's recruitment criteria must include immaculate facial features and exceptional body proportions.

She hadn't noticed last time, but this secretary was stunningly attractive. Currently suffering from menstrual cramps, she sat on the sofa clutching her abdomen, wearing a piece from Sterling's Spring '21 ready-to-wear line. The designer dress looked slightly creased, exposing an alluring glimpse of her silhouette.

The man handed her a packet of painkillers along with a glass of warm water that slowly emitted a soft veil of white steam. The steam misted his features, making him look boundlessly gentle and devoted.

Seraphina clearly noted the flush rising across the secretary's cheeks—a clear warning of a heart skipping a beat.

Faced with a man so meticulously observant and gentlemanly, few girls could withstand his charm.

Barely five minutes after the secretary consumed the medicine, the assistant who had been sent to purchase the painkillers emerged to support her out of the apartment.

Seraphina caught the secretary whispering, "I can still attend the gala tonight. I am perfectly fine, please do not worry."

Unable to restrain herself, Seraphina let out a soft laugh.

Why would he ever worry about you, you foolish girl?

The secretary froze upon spotting Seraphina, taking two seconds to register her presence before offering a polite greeting. "Good evening, Miss Vance."

Seraphina returned the greeting, gesturing for her to rest well.

The secretary stepped into the elevator, and from start to finish, the man never took a single step to escort her out.

He was exceptionally kind to women, yet exceptionally cruel.

Yet they could never stop fantasizing that they would be the one exception he treated with genuine devotion.

Rhett finally noticed her. "Neighbor?"

"Hello, new neighbor," Seraphina asked with a bright smile. "Wouldn't you agree that we share quite a striking amount of destiny?"

"We don't," Rhett countered, his gaze coming to a dead halt at her bare toes.

Her pale skin held a delicate hint of pink, her feet looking incredibly small and dainty. Her instep had been scratched by something unknown at some point, leaving a tiny, blossoming trail of crimson.

Stepping directly against the cold marble tiles like that—she looked purely innocent, yet entirely seductive.

Seraphina remained completely unbothered by his scrutiny, a radiant smile breaking across her features. "Mr. Sterling, does it look good?"

"The floor is cold. Put on some shoes."

Look at how masterful he was.

Staring blatantly at a young woman's bare feet, his gaze resembled an entangling wild vine, wrapping around her to violently absorb nourishment for its own growth.

Yet in the end, the vine never uttered a single syllable regarding its own dark intentions, transforming instead into the gentle concern of a perfect gentleman.

Looking as though that heavily aggressive scrutiny from moments ago was nothing more than a figment of her imagination.

"Chatting outside the doorway like this is so exhausting," Seraphina's eyes rippled like water. "Why don't you come inside and sit for a moment, new neighbor?"

A midnight invitation, hazy and saturated with heavy temptation.

He remained silent, and she boldly met his gaze head-on.

His eyes resembled a dark, bottomless ocean, treacherous and unpredictable. Yet she was a traveler who feared not death, determined to admire the magnificent view atop these stormy waters.

Suddenly, a man's voice drifted from inside her apartment, sharply shattering their shared silence.

"Seraphina? Are you at the door?"

The surface of the ocean instantly unleashed a towering tidal wave, the freezing, salty water drenching her entire body, determined to overturn her completely.

Rhett shot her a single look, his voice dropping low as he asked:

"You have a guest?"