World A: Emma William [Olivia formal world]
Max's father sat behind his desk, fingers interlaced, while Heidi stood before him. The study was quiet, too quiet.
Heidi shook her head, her expression helpless yet firm, refusing the proposal that had just been placed before her.
The man wanted her to trick Max. To let Emma William become her trainee without his knowledge.
He knew the girl well enough to understand how dangerous that could be. Emma wasn't just clever, she was bold. Bold enough to tease his son without fear.
"Sir, I can't do that," Heidi said calmly. "I don't mind tutoring her, but the boss has made it clear that he doesn't want to see her."
The man reached out, gently taking her hand and squeezing it as if trying to soften her resolve.
"This is important," he said, voice lowered. "The Smiths are old friends of mine. Their only daughter's life is in danger, and right now, I'm the only person they can turn to."
He leaned forward slightly, eyes earnest. "It won't take long. You can handle this, can't you… Heidi dear?"
She pulled her hand back immediately and inhaled sharply. "Sir, you're far too old to be acting cute."
He didn't even flinch, instead doubling down. "The safest way to hunt the criminal is to make sure their daughter is protected. If the culprit realizes they're onto them, they might act rashly, and the girl would be the one to suffer the drastic retort."
He pleaded, almost theatrically.
Before Heidi could respond, the study door opened.
Max's mother walked in.
And just like that, the odds stacked against her.
The woman immediately launched into an emotional monologue about motherhood, about fear, about what it would feel like to lose a child. She spoke of Olivia's parents with sympathy, her eyes misting as she insisted she couldn't bear the thought of something happening to that family.
Two people.
Two performances.
Heidi stared at them for a long moment, then slowly pulled out her phone.
"Can I take a photo of you two?"
"…."
"…."
Both of them froze.
"Not for the reason you're thinking," Heidi added dryly. "I need insurance. Something to save my neck when your son tries to kill me."
She tilted her phone slightly. "At least let him see the faces that forced my hand."
The couple exchanged a look, then simultaneously put on the most pitiful expressions they could muster.
Heidi snapped a few photos. Recorded a short video.
"Done," she said, forcing a smile as they showered her with gratitude.
He's going to kill me.
That thought echoed relentlessly in her mind as she left the mansion, their praises trailing behind her.
Once she was gone, the couple broke into laughter.
"That was good acting."
"You weren't bad yourself."
They congratulated each other, pleased with the outcome.
Of course, collaboration with the Smiths was part of the plan, but there was another motive.
Their son was already thirty. No dating history. No interest in marriage.
Emily had assured them that aside from his men, there was no woman in his life.
They wanted grandchildren. They wanted him to think beyond business and money. They wanted someone beside him.
Olivia might be spoiled. Rude. Difficult.
But girls like that, they believed, made excellent wives, once someone managed to break through their shell.
If she changed, it would be for the better.
After all, Olivia never insulted anyone without provocation. Leave her alone, and you'd never even see her sharp edges.
More importantly, she was brilliant.
Even while pretending to be idle, she was part of the top tech security teams in her parents' corporation.
Her technological skills were exceptional.
…
Max stepped out of a white sports car in front of a restaurant.
He wore a cyan shirt that highlighted his broad shoulders, paired with white suit trousers. His expression was bored yet effortlessly captivating.
Jet-black hair was slicked back neatly, every strand in place.
"Hey, Maximilian."
Alicia emerged from the restaurant, walking straight toward him instead of waiting for him to find the reserved seat.
The way she said his name turned heads. Anyone watching would assume intimacy, lovers perhaps. Or at least something familiar.
She wore fitted blue jeans that clung to her curves, paired with a yellow tube top that left nothing to imagination. Her shoulders were bare, her cleavage unapologetically displayed.
She was the kind of woman that made other women feel inferior without saying a word.
Everything about her screamed confidence. Maturity. Seduction.
Her hips swayed as she walked, smile bright and practiced, curls bouncing lightly at the ends of her hair with every step.
Alicia's eyes sparkled when they locked onto Max.
Inside, she was practically spinning with excitement. If only she could hug him.
Max, on the other hand, stared blankly.
He didn't recall ever seeing her before.
He stood there, unmoved, unimpressed…. just waiting.
"How are you, Max?" she asked once she reached him.
"Well. Fine," he replied casually.
"Oh, sorry," she said, adjusting her top right in front of him.
He didn't react.
"So," Max said, impatience creeping into his voice, "what's the surprise?"
"Do you remember the art gallery in Italy?" Alicia asked gently. "You were there with your sister, Emily."
"So?" Max replied flatly.
Her smile faltered.
"I was there too," she continued, trying again. "Your sister and I both wanted the same mermaid artwork. I gave it up for her."
Max exhaled sharply.
"Is this nonsense the reason you dragged me here today?" he asked, irritation no longer concealed.
Alicia froze.
She hadn't expected that kind of comeback from Max.