The headlines exploded like elegant fireworks on the world's screens:
"Luna Malroth creates Global Foundation for the Eradication of Poverty."
"Daughter of Augustus Malroth moves the Empire with promise made to father."
"Billionaire heiress already has support from three major aristocratic groups."
Luna's phone started vibrating so hard it almost fell off the marble counter where she leaned while drinking tea with honey and ginger — courtesy of the persistent emotional hangover.
The first call came from Victória.
"FRIEND, I LOVE YOU!"
"Victória? You saw the interview?"
"I SAW THE INTERVIEW, YOUR OUTFIT, YOUR FACE, AND THE WHOLE WORLD FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU!"
"Calm down, breathe—"
"NO! I want to donate. The Lancaster Group wants to contribute. Ten million initially, symbolic. And I demand my donation to come with a holographic statue of me smiling in a refugee camp."
Luna laughed. "Send it straight to my administrative president."
The second call was from Nikoly.
"Luna. What an initiative… worthy of an emperor of good."
"Thank you, Nikki…"
"I want the Hoshinami Group to support the educational arm of the foundation. We'll develop language technologies for children. Send the contact number."
"With pleasure. His name is Hiro. He'll love you."
Lumine called right after.
"Luna…"
"Lumine, my Swiss crystal!"
"Are you okay? This is all a lot."
"I'm a mix of megalomania with gastritis. And you?"
"I want to donate. The Edelweiss Group wants to fund the construction of art schools in war zones. Painting saves souls."
"You just made me cry. And I hate crying with Dior makeup."
With the initial donations added up, almost 100 million had already been sent to the foundation before its official website even existed.
Meanwhile, behind the scenes…
The Philanthropic Management People-Robots were starting to organize into units.
The "Foundation President", UGP-001 Hiro, was already beginning the bureaucracy:
International registration documentation
Purchases of strategic lands
Diplomatic connections with Non-Aligned Nations
Contracts with award-winning architects and respected NGOs
Hiro was impeccable. A robot with serene features, dark hair, formal clothes and a virtual briefcase with all the maps of global misery.
Luna called him "my adamantium CEO with the soul of a Zen monk."
But what Luna wasn't ready for, was the next name that appeared on her iPhone 16 Pro screen: Matthew Solarius
She froze. Literally.
Her heart beat as if German techno was playing again.
She took a deep breath.
And answered. "...Hello?"
His voice, warm, polite, formal. "Miss Malroth."
"...Prince Matthew." She spoke like someone stepping on thin ice in stiletto heels.
"I watched your interview."
Pause. Long. Deadly.
Luna was already curling up in the chair waiting for a joke about her drunken dancing like a lovesick octopus.
But then he continued, completely ignoring the nightclub topic.
"I would like to say, on behalf of the Phoenix Empire, that your initiative is admirable. The Malroth Foundation is already resonating among diplomats and heads of state. We are grateful."
Luna blinked. "...Thank you?"
"If there is any possibility of partnership between your foundation and the Phoenix Ministry of Humanitarian Affairs, we would be honored."
She mumbled something generic, like, "Sure. We can look into that later."
"I await your response. Have an excellent day, Miss Luna."
Click.
The call ended.
Luna stared at the phone.
Silence.
Nothing like: "About that day, sorry for dodging you."
Nothing like: "You used me as a pillow in public."
Nothing like: "You danced pressed against me like a panther in a trance."
NOTHING.
She threw the phone onto the velvet sofa with an aggressive sigh. "He didn't say. ANYTHING. About the nightclub."
Ivy, floating with her robotic British composure. "Perhaps the prince chose to maintain a diplomatic posture."
"Or maybe he's pretending nothing happened to drive me CRAZY!"
She stood up abruptly.
"Who ignores being grabbed by a drunk and embarrassed woman? That is… IRRITATINGLY NOBLE!"
Ivy raised a holographic eyebrow. "Feelings detected: frustration, shame, desire for revenge, residual attraction."
Luna muttered. "I'm going to dance with another prince at the next party. EMOTIONAL NUDITY, UNDERSTAND?"
Ivy simply logged the plan as "Emotional Reaction Level 7. Strategy: Elegant Chaos."
Luna was in an aesthetic bad mood.
Nothing serious, just that silent rage that settles when a prince who held you in his arms on a dance floor… decides to pretend it never happened.
Result?
Therapeutic shopping.
Luna entered the most exclusive mall in the Phoenix Empire like a storm dressed in tailoring. The imported marble floor reflected her powerful silhouette, and the VIP presence sensors alerted the entire floor:
"Client level Omega-Tycoon detected. Release Genesis Protocol."
The doors opened like theater curtains.
She took off her sunglasses and murmured, "Let's begin with the stylistic carnage."
In a store of Imperial Haute Couture, the most restricted store in the mall. Only 5 clients per year were served, and Luna was there like a storm of glamour.
She was received with glasses of chilled prosecco and classical music in the background.
She chose a black dress with reflective fabric, which looked like it was made of liquid shadow — created with lunar silver threads and silk made by chrysalises cultivated in absolute silence.
Price? $3.2 million.
Luna's reaction? A smile.
"Send five of these. Vary the colors. I want to feel dangerous in every shade."
Then, she picked a tailor-made sculpted suit, with architectural shoulders and white crystals hand-sewn.
Plus two gala dresses made of petals preserved in magical amber.
And a long coat of synthetic gray dragon leather, resistant to bullets and boredom.
Store total: $22.4 million.
Time spent: 37 minutes.
In another store known for its Aesthetic Engineering shoes.
Luna arrived, took off her heels, and said, "I want to feel millionaire with every step. But without pain, please."
The manager selected a heel made of laser-cut obsidian crystal, with impact absorption from hidden gravitational cushions.
"It feels like walking on clouds seasoned with pride."
Then: knee-high boots made with ecological leather from air snakes, dyed in imperial wine.
Sport sneakers with embedded jewels in the soles, "to run from gossip with dignity" as she said.
And of course, the highlight: a pair of holographic stilettos that changed color depending on the light.
Cost? $9.7 million.
She bought twelve different pairs.
Because walking in style… was a form of emotional protest.
In another store of Eternal Bags and Clutches.
There, Luna didn't ask for models.
She asked for editions that no longer exist.
A clutch made of northern ice diamonds.
A shoulder bag made with enchanted gold threads, sewn in a workshop closed 200 years ago.
And a mini bag with dimensional embroidery — that floated discreetly beside the owner like a silent butterfly.
Average value of each piece: $2.1 million.
Bought: 19.
Total: $39.9 million in pure pocket-status.
In another store, she chose watches that didn't just mark time, but marked moments that deserved to be eternal.
The first chosen: a watch with a black sapphire face and adamantium strap, that projected personalized constellations at a touch.
The second: a minimalist wristwatch that adapted to the user's heartbeat and changed style according to mood.
And a third: made with internal gears of alchemical crystal, capable of surviving a 100-story fall and still playing Clair de Lune.
Luna bought all three. Plus two extras, out of whim.
Total: $17.5 million.
In another store, she casually said, "I need earrings that say: 'I'm rich, but don't ask how.'"
The clerk smiled.
Luna left with 20 rings, 8 pairs of earrings, and a necklace with a perfumed aura.
Total in jewelry: $41 million.
When Luna got tired of shopping, Ivy informed how much she had spent:
Total shopping time: 3 hours and 22 minutes
Total spent: $134.5 million dollars
Number of bags carried by drones: 52
Number of attendants fainting from happiness: 3
In the limousine, on the way back to the mansion, Luna nibbled on a cherry truffle dipped in French cognac and said to Ivy, "Matthew who, again?"
Ivy smiled holographically. "Unidentified prince archived as 'temporary irrelevant emotion.'"
Luna raised an eyebrow. "Side effect of consumption?"
"No. Clinical diagnosis of absolute aesthetic superiority."
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