The morning light slid through the curtain. I took a quick bath, then went to the pool area for breakfast and a short dip in the water.
I’d been pushing myself hard these past few days. Towers, simulations, etings—no pause in between. I earned this.
After finishing laps, water still clung to my skin, cool droplets sliding down as I made my way to the table for breakfast.
Bread, eggs, bacon, coffee, and a selection of expensive-looking pastries that ca straight from the city’s most renowned bakery.
Only Alice and Sophie joined , and their ruined my appetite a little.
No casual talk filled the space. No idle noise followed each movent.
Speaking freely didn’t co naturally—they were maids, after all—and I didn’t want to force it by commanding them to converse with .
Just like that, breakfast passed without a word.
I went upstairs to the office that once belonged to Daniel.
Sitting in his chair felt ironic. To think he once looked down on from this sa position, only to die over a single question.
The image of his head exploding was still fresh in my mind.
Now the desk was mine. Even his wife had "my" written all over her, and his money? Let’s just say I could spend it like it grew on trees... and I was in a very generous mood.
If he could see this from hell, he would be crying a river. anwhile, I was enjoying everything he spent his life working for.
’Let’s see what he was working with before.’
Files sat where he left them. Work filled the folders, but none of it held value. Just dry reports. Routine numbers. Endless corporate clutter.
’Where did he hide all the good and secret stuff?’
My mind went back to that night. I was certain there had been a hidden room in his bedroom. I searched for it, but found nothing.
Even my shadow slipped through the walls and only led to other normal rooms.
It made wonder if that guy also had so kind of teleportation ability.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
A ssage ca through my phone. It was from Ellie.
She said she would be out for three days. Her parents had just returned from out of town, and things were busy on her end.
A short reply went back. ’Okay. Take care.’
With nothing else holding back, I checked my emails.
One ssage stood out. It ca from the legal team.
Everything on their side was ready.
Docunts were filed. Funds were secured. The problem lay elsewhere.
The Association was delaying approval, citing "procedural reviews."
What a load of bullshit. I called Master Tang again and asked him to pull favors.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
The reply ca quickly. The delay wasn’t an accident.
Two factions were behind it—Mythical and Dark Rock. Both held influence within the Association’s inner circle.
Unfortunately, Master Tang won’t be able to help this ti.
That settled it.
Waiting would only drag things out, so a direct visit made more sense.
Before leaving, I still had loose ends to deal with inside the estate.
Sophie’s boyfriend waited by the gate, confusion and worry written all over his face.
Being called in that early had rattled him. His hands shook until our eyes t, and the tension drained from his body at once.
"Your job ends today. You won’t be coming back, and Sophie is no longer yours. Take it, and be done with it."
A sealed envelope was handed to him.
He opened the envelope and stared at the cheque. The number made him stagger back, disbelief written all over his face.
The amount inside was enough to last years without work. Enough to dull the pain of being cuckhold by his boss.
"Thank you, Master Ace." He bowed his head.
Just to be sure he wouldn’t bother again, I used my influence to push him as far away from my circles as possible.
The head guard approached next.
"A new rule," ca my order. "No staff is allowed to date the maids. No exceptions."
He straightened and nodded "I’ll call a staff eting right away, Master. " he said, fumbling for his phone as he moved.
Nice. With everything settled, I had full control of the house again. When boredom or a low mood hit, there would always be pretty maids around to fill my needs.
With that handled, the car rolled up front.
"Take to the Seeker Association."
The engine purred as the gates opened, and we drove out, leaving our district behind and heading toward the tropolitan area.
Buildings blurred past, gray and gold stretching into the distance.
Roughly fifty minutes later, we reached the outer region. It would have been faster if not for the traffic.
The Association’s main headquarters sat near the center of the district, but we stopped at a restaurant first, where my legal counsel was waiting.
He climbed into the car, carrying a slim case.
"This eting is important," he went on, handing a folder filled with information about the division head. "Understanding him first will help before we proceed."
The na ca first.
Lawrence Hayes.
He ca from old money just like —not centuries-old, but enough to command respect. His career was built on compromise, not brute force.
Decisions were never rushed, and he never let himself be backed into a corner.
"He hates being rushed," he added. "Pride hides under that calm tone. Push too hard, and he will resist out of spite."
I leaned back, smirking. "Well, that’s just great, because I hate waiting. So one of us has to compromise, and it won’t be ."
He shook his head slowly. "You don’t understand, Boss. That approach will backfire. I’ve seen it happen before."
"Once he decides soone is impatient or disrespectful, he won’t budge. He’ll stall, ignore requests, or—worst case—deny outright. And it’s personal. He rembers grudges for a long ti."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "So, if I push, I risk getting nothing?"
"Exactly. He values control more than anything. Let him feel like it’s his idea, and things move quickly. Push him, and you’re asking for delays that can last months."
I let that sink in, tapping my fingers in contemplation.
The car slowed as the headquarters got closer.
.
.
.
Instead of going to the main entrance, we slipped around to the back. The Association had a separate set of glass doors just for VIPs.
"I’m here to speak with the Head of Association. " I declared.
They exchanged glances before making out an excuse.
"The head is very busy. Private etings aren’t possible right now."
"Stop wasting my ti. Tell him Ace rcer is here, and if you don’t want to lose a major donation, I’ll take my money elsewhere.
The mont those words left my mouth, and my ID followed, their attitude changed.
One of them nodded quickly, then stepped aside.
"Please, co in. I’ll take you to the front desk so we can contact the Association’s head."
Inside, the air was cool. Everything was designed to keep emotions out, to make the space feel more formal than welcoming.
Sofas lined the walls, deep and polished, while the ceiling soared high above.
A large chandelier hung in the center, casting a soft glow over the room.
This space was ant to impress, to remind visitors that the association was the real deal—sowhere far removed from the everyday world outside.
The legal counsel adjusted his glasses, his tone deferential.
"Sir, allow to speak first. You can follow after. I will let him feel the benefits first in working with us."
"Don’t tell what to do. I already gave you more than enough ti to settle this."
He opened his mouth, hesitated, then simply fell in step behind .
The guard led us to the front desk as promised and began speaking with the female attendants, quietly explaining who I was.
Almost imdiately, their eyes turned to , sizing up with interest.
I could almost imagine them thinking my billions were the secret ingredient that made ... desirable.
One woman gave a warm smile while tucking her hair behind her ear—a classic, almost too-generic move ant to catch a man’s attention.
"Please wait, Mr. rcer. I’ll call my supervisor,"
Five minutes later, I finally received the go-ahead to proceed to the top floor.
The division head waited inside.
He looked ordinary at first glance. Gray hair. Simple suit. Hands folded on the table. His eyes, however, missed nothing.
His eyes flicked toward the chairs, so we took our seats.
"Quite the weather today," Hayes broke the silence while watching us.
I kept my eyes on him, noting the slight lift of his eyebrow before speaking.
"Regarding the delays. We’ve followed all protocols and requirents, yet approval hasn’t co through. May we ask why?"
Hayes leaned back a little, resting his fingers together under his chin.
"Mr. rcer. You expect to overlook months of procedure simply because it suits your tiline?"
I didn’t back down, but kept my tone controlled. No need to escalate when the issue could be handled with words.
"I used my own money to speed things up—everything’s perfectly legal, of course. No shortcuts, just being efficient with my ti."
"Efficiency?" he sneered. "You just throw money around and hope everything bends to your will?"
I almost gave him an applause for reading my mind, then realized he was just being sarcastic.
He was from old money, but it seems like he hates rich people—or maybe he just hates . Confusing, considering I’m very likable.
"Let’s talk. Maybe we can reach an agreent?" I suggested.
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