The images were intimate, carefully chosen to imply far more than what had actually happened: her hugging Astron tightly at the Spatial Gate station, another of her leaning into him at the Stellamare Museum, and the two of them entering a high-class hotel together.
Scandalous, indeed—at least for those who didn't know the context. But instead of fear or panic, a wry smirk ford on Irina's lips as she scrolled through the pictures.
"Well," she said, her tone almost amused, "you certainly went to a lot of trouble, didn't you?"
The voice on the other end faltered slightly, as though caught off guard by her reaction. "Trouble worth taking," it replied, regaining its composure. "These photos would certainly make waves if they were released to the public. Your family, your reputation—it would all take a significant hit, wouldn't it?"
Irina's smirk widened as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs casually. The glow from her communication device cast a soft light on her face, but her fiery amber eyes glead with amusent. She rested her chin on her palm, the picture of feigned nonchalance.
"Oh, absolutely," she said, her tone light but edged with mock concern. "You're right. These photos are devastating. My poor reputation. My fragile family na. I'm positively trembling in fear."
The voice on the other end hesitated again, the distorted quality unable to hide the flicker of uncertainty. "Mock all you want, Miss Emberheart," they finally replied, their tone regaining its venomous edge. "But we both know these images would cause a stir if they were released. The Emberheart na would never recover."
'Emberheart na? At least they've done their howork.' Irina thought, biting back a chuckle. 'Though, this really isn't the first ti soone's tried sothing like this. I almost want to applaud the effort.'
She straightened slightly, her smirk fading into an expression of mild curiosity. "Alright," she said, her voice softening into sothing closer to sincerity. "Let's say you're right. Let's say these photos could ruin . What exactly are you proposing?"
The voice didn't miss a beat. "100,000,000 Valer," they stated flatly. "Transferred to the account details I'll provide. In exchange, the photos disappear, and this conversation never happened."
Irina whistled softly, her brows raising in mock astonishnt. "Hundred million?" she echoed, her tone carrying just a hint of disbelief. "You don't ss around, do you?"
"I'm not here to negotiate," the voice snapped, a touch of impatience creeping into their distorted tone. "This is a fair price for the silence I'm offering. Considering the damage these photos would do—"
"To my reputation, my family na, my fragile social standing," Irina interjected smoothly, ticking off each point on her fingers. "Yes, yes, I got the idea. And tell , how exactly did you decide on Hundred million? Is that the standard blackmail rate these days, or are you just feeling ambitious?"
"Don't test , Miss Emberheart," the voice warned, the threat hanging in the air. "You have twenty-four hours. Transfer the money, or these photos go public."
Irina's smirk froze as the blackmailer's words echoed in her ears. For a mont, her amber eyes glinted with an unreadable emotion, but then her face turned cold, her expression hardening into sothing sharp and unyielding. The fire in her gaze burned brighter, but this ti, it carried an edge of deadly resolve.
"Fuck off, you son of a bitch," she said flatly, her voice cutting through the line like a blade.
The atmosphere shifted instantly. The faint hum of her room seed to fall silent, and for a second, there was no response from the other side. Then the blackmailer's distorted voice returned, now tinged with a mix of indignation and forced control.
"You should mind your language," they hissed, their tone laced with nace. "If you want to preserve—"
"I don't want to preserve anything," Irina interrupted, her voice rising in sharp defiance. "Do whatever you fucking want, you stupid rat. Do you really think you'll be left alive after pulling a stunt like this? You'll be burned alive."
The blackmailer fell silent again, the air on the other end of the line thick with tension. Irina leaned forward, her fiery hair casting shadows over her face as her smirk returned, this ti filled with venomous amusent.
"Let spell it out for you," she continued, her tone calm but dripping with contempt. "You're playing a ga you're not equipped to win. You think you've got leverage? You think these photos an anything to ? I've been in this position before, and guess what? I'm still here."
The line crackled faintly before the blackmailer spoke again, their tone dripping with forced confidence. "Your bluff won't an anything," they said, the distorted voice losing so of its earlier venom. "But since you really want to refuse, don't mind us if we're impolite."
With that, the call abruptly ended, leaving Irina staring at the blank screen. The glow of her mana-imbued communication device faded, plunging her room into a quiet that felt heavier than before. For a mont, she didn't move, her amber eyes fixed on the device as her thoughts churned.
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her fiery presence dimming as she exhaled slowly. 'They ended the call, huh?' she thought, her expression unreadable. 'Coward.'
But beneath her defiance, a faint current of unease rippled through her chest. The reality of the situation was not lost on her. 'The mont those photos are revealed… things will take an irreversible turn.'
Irina leaned back in her chair, resting her head against the cool wood as she stared at the ceiling. A flicker of anxiety danced at the edges of her mind, the what-ifs and possibilities pressing against her resolve. She could already picture the headlines, the whispers, the scandalous stories twisted out of context. It was the kind of attention that could ripple through her family, her reputation, and even Astron's.
'And that,' she thought, her lips curling into a faint smirk, 'is exactly why I don't care.'
Her amber eyes narrowed, her thoughts snapping back to the infirmary, to Maya's icy blue gaze, to the way the senior had stood tall despite whatever inner turmoil had gripped her. The mory burned bright, filling Irina with a renewed sense of determination.
'If there's one thing I learned from that woman,' she mused, 'it's that hesitation is a waste of ti. If I let fear control , I'll never win.'
She stood abruptly, pacing the room as her fiery hair swayed behind her. The faint light from her desk lamp cast flickering shadows on the walls, matching the storm of emotions swirling within her. There was fear, yes. But there was also exhilaration—a spark of rebellion that refused to be extinguished.
"I won't be scared of so idiot with a voice modulator," she muttered, her tone sharp and decisive. "If they want to play gas, I'll show them how it's done."
Saying that she opened the Virtual Reality simulator.
*******
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