The black mirrored skyscraper of Titan Holdings lood over them, sharp and polished like a damn monolith of power. The company’s na glead in sleek silver letters at the very top, a constant reminder of who really owned the land they were standing on.
Justin let out a low whistle. "Still intimidating as fuck."
Adam groaned, running a hand through his already ssy hair. "I don’t even wanna be here, man. I don’t know what you’re planning, but this better be worth it."
Justin shot him a grin. "Since when has my business not been worth it?"
Adam deadpanned. "Oh, I don’t know... maybe the ti you convinced to bet against my uncle in poker? Or that one ti I had to pretend to be your chauffeur to sneak you into that auction? My bank account still cries at night."
Justin only smirked, stepping on the gas as they passed through tall, security-heavy gates. The guards barely glanced at the car before letting them in. They already knew who Adam was.
This wasn’t so random eting. This was the real deal.
Justin had money now—real money. The kind that turned heads, unlocked doors, and made people suddenly rember your na.
But power? The kind that made CEOs take your calls and not just pass you off to so bootlicking assistant? That took more than just a fat bank account.
And let’s be real, he’d only been in this ga for two damn days.
No way in hell had he stacked up enough influence to get a sit-down with the manager of Titan Holdings—let alone the CEO. Those kinds of people didn’t just "et" with teenagers, even rich ones.
That’s where Adam ca in.
Because while Justin was new to this playground, Adam had been stomping around in it since birth. His last na carried weight in circles Justin was just starting to step into.
And now, after probably getting finessed into sothing humiliating, Adam had sohow convinced his cousin—who had so serious pull at Titan—to arrange this eting.
Justin needed this.
Not just so half-assed "business rep" shaking his hand and pretending to care. He needed soone at the top. Soone who could actually make things happen.
And Adam had made it happen.
Now all Justin had to do was walk in there and own it.
Adam stretched, sighing heavily. "Man... I really hate this place."
Justin raised an eyebrow. "What? Scared of your cousin?" Adam rolled his eyes but said nothing. Which ant yes.
Justin chuckled, shaking his head. Adam had to go through so real bullshit to make this happen.
His cousin wasn’t just anybody—she so na in this city, soone who didn’t just do favors for fun. Which ant... Adam definitely got blackmailed, humiliated, or tricked into sothing dumb as hell.
Justin didn’t say it out loud, but he knew it. Adam had swallowed his pride for this eting.
And that? That ant sothing. He was a real friend!
"You good?" Justin asked, amusent clear in his voice.
Adam gave him the side-eye. "Shut the fuck up. Let’s just get this over with before I start regretting every life choice that led here."
Justin laughed, slamming the car door shut. "Too late for that, bro." They headed for the entrance. Ti to make moves.
Justin walked through the towering glass doors of Titan Holdings, feeling the cool air-conditioning kiss his skin like a blessing from the heavens. The sumr heat outside had been hellish, but in here? It was like stepping into luxury itself—silent, expensive, and powerful.
The lobby was a massive open space, almost intimidating in its emptiness. Just a sleek, minimalist reception desk, so high-end leather chairs in the waiting area, and the faint scent of money, power, and overpriced cologne.
The receptionist, a woman in her thirties, looked up from her computer—and froze.
For a second, she looked like she’d forgotten how to breathe. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating as she drank in Justin’s face like a damn desert wanderer who just found water. Thirsty didn’t even begin to cover it.
Justin sighed internally.
She was married, probably had a whole ass family—but from the way her fingers twitched on the desk, like she was stopping herself from fixing her hair, she wouldn’t mind cheating tonight.
Still, to her credit, she sohow pulled herself together.
"Welco to Titan Holdings," she said, her voice just a little too smooth. "Do you have an appointnt?"
Before Justin could even open his mouth, Adam stepped in. Reluctantly.
"This one’s with ," Adam muttered. "We have a eting with the manager."
The second she recognized Adam, her attitude shifted.
"Oh! Of course," she chirped, suddenly professional again. "Follow ."
She led them to the elevator, pressing the button for the upper floors. But even in the reflective tal walls, her eyes never left Justin.
He glanced at her and sighed.
Na: [Emma]
Soul: [Not Snatched]
Fear: [09/100]
Dark Lust: [85/100]
Stand: [Not Loyal]
Take: [None]
Thirsty. So damn thirsty.
Adam shook his head, already used to this. Won practically lted around Justin. And at this point, he didn’t even find it annoying anymore—just weird.
n didn’t see anything special. To them, Justin was just another guy. No magical, panty-dropping aura, no otherworldly beauty.
But won? Won acted like he was dipped in goddamn gold and sprinkled with temptation.
Adam rubbed his temples, fighting the urge to yell, "Hey! I’m handso too, dammit!"
With a soft chi, the elevator doors slid open.
"We’ve arranged the eting in the executive conference room," the receptionist inford them, her eyes lingering on Justin one last ti before she walked off.
Adam led the way down the hallway.
The eting hall was obscenely large, the kind of space ant to remind you that you were standing in the presence of big money. A long, polished table stretched through the center, surrounded by high-backed leather chairs that probably cost more than a damn car. The walls were sleek, lined with minimalist decor that whispered, we don’t need to show off—you already know we’re rich as fuck.
Floor-to-ceiling glass frad the entire city, letting in a golden flood of sunlight that made everything glow like a scene straight out of a movie. The sun itself hung in the sky, no longer the gentle warmth of morning but a burning, all-seeing god, slowly turning up the heat like it was testing the mortals below. The streets shimred under its weight, buildings gleaming, cars reflecting flashes of blinding gold as they moved.
Justin leaned back in his chair, watching the light stretch across the table, the subtle heat creeping in even through the thick glass. Sumr wasn’t just coming—it was staking its claim—it was creeping closer.
Justin sighed.
Adam flopped into a chair like a man who had just escaped war.
Justin raised a brow. "You look exhausted."
Adam groaned. "Don’t start. I was... occupied before you ca to pick up."
Justin with a knowing smirk teased, "Occupied, huh?"
"Shut up."
Justin shook his head, because yeah, Adam was definitely fucking before this.
Adam sat up and eyed him suspiciously. "So... what the hell is this about? You want a bulding or sothing. Even then... you don’t need a eting with my cousin to buy a building. There are a thousand of them. You literally own a fucking mansion now. You’re the king there."
He paused.
"Unless... fuck, man. Don’t tell —"
Justin just smirked.
Adam blinked, then groaned. "Shit, dude. You’re really doing this, huh?"
Justin leaned back. "You’re slow, but at least you’re catching up."
Adam let out an awkward laugh. "Yeah, but... why? Like, why the hell do you even need—"
Before Adam could finish his sentence, the doors burst open like a goddamn movie entrance.
And there she was.
Adam clenched his jaw so hard he swore he felt his molars crack. No matter how much he despised his cousin—no matter how much her very existence made his blood pressure spike—he couldn’t deny the truth, even under oath. She was hot. Unreasonably hot.
The kind of hot that made teenage boys forget how to form sentences and grown n lose their entire stock portfolios over a smile.
Annoying as hell? Absolutely. Rotten personality? One hundred percent. But hot? Yeah. No question.
Her long, raven-black hair cascaded down her back like she was in a damn shampoo comrcial, and her sculpted brows arched as she surveyed the room like she owned it.
Which, knowing her, she probably thought she did. Her deep-cut neckline put her cleavage on full display, a cruel joke to anyone trying to focus on literally anything else. The black dress wrapped around her like it had been personally tailored by Satan himself to tempt the weak-willed, cinched tight at the waist by a sleek belt that accentuated every sinful curve.
The skirt barely skimd the tops of her thighs, teasing just enough silk-clad skin to make even priests reconsider their vows.
She crossed her arms under her chest, which only made things worse.
"So, what do you teenagers want with soone like ?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Are you that bored?"
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