Selene's head turned sharply when Kyle's voice cut through the tense silence.
"Manager Selene," he said, his tone low, respectful, but a little desperate, "can't you let this one go… just once… in regards to my father?"
Emily's fear from Selene flickered, softening into relief, as Kyle came for her rescue.
"That won't be possible." Selene's tone was cold and decisive. Her hands folded neatly behind her back, posture rigid.
She turned to Emily again. "Either she leaves on her own…" her voice rang firm, "…or I'll see her out myself."
Emily froze, fear tangled with simmering anger.
Kyle's chest tightened. "W-Why?" His hands twitched at his sides, half reaching, half retreating. His eyes darted between Selene and Emily, searching for an explanation.
Selene didn't answer. Her look alone carried weight—an authority so unbending that Kyle swallowed hard, throat dry.
Then his eyes caught on Sofia. She stood trembling, eyes wet and red from wiped tears. Jace's hand slid behind her back, steady on her shoulder, a quiet reassurance.
Kyle's gaze snapped to Jace. The two men locked eyes.
Kyle didn't know the full story. He had been too busy sneaking glances at other women's thighs. But the smirk curling at Jace's mouth hit him like a slap.
"You bastard!" Kyle's voice broke into raw anger.
Emily's lips curved, smugness flashing back into place, delight at the tension rising.
But the fire inside Kyle lasted only seconds. His eyes dropped to the golden crest pinned to Jace's lapel. The symbol burned into him with silent authority. A chill clawed down his spine. Despite the AC's cool air, sweat pricked his skin.
He turned sharply to Emily. His voice cracked. "Emily… apologize…"
"What?" Her head snapped. "Why?" She glared at him, disbelief written all over her face. Anger flared. "He called me a whore, and you're asking me to apologi—"
"SHUT UP!" Kyle's voice roared, veins straining in his neck.
Emily flinched, shocked, lips parting but no words came.
Kyle's face twisted with anger and panic. "Please… just stup up!"
The crowd, which had been silent as if watching theatre, let out a collective gasp.
"Tsk." Emily clicked her tongue in disgust.
Then she stormed forward, heels striking hard against the floor, until she stood just inches from Jace.
His expression had flattened, neutral. On the other hand, Sofia shrank slightly behind him, trembling at Emily's presence.
Emily's eyes burned. "I would rather die than apologize to a worthless piece of shit like you."
Jace's lips twitched into a smirk. He placed his hand on her shoulder.
Her fury spiked. "What are you doing?"
He leaned close, his breath brushing her ear. "The next time we meet, you'll be... begging on your knees." His voice was smooth, steady.
Then it turned meancing, "And I promise it won't be long."
Emily snapped, rage overflowing. "What the fuck! You son of a—"
Kyle seized her waist and yanked her back, dragging her toward the door at a near-run.
The crowd broke into frantic murmurs, whispers crashing in waves as the pair were forced out.
Jace's gaze lingered on Emily's retreating figure for a heartbeat, already plotting their downfall. Then he turned. Selene stood before him, bowing deep, posture like a soldier reporting.
"Sir," she said, voice polite, "I apologize for the disturbance. I will ensure that whenever you enter, nothing like this repeats. So please forgive the waitress Sofia. But if you still cannot—"
"There's no need to fire her," Jace cut her off calmly. His eyes turned to Sofia. "Sofia, do you mind working for me?"
Her lips parted in shock. "P-Pardon?"
Since the reunion two days passed.
During these days Jace had no shooting scheduled, so he shifted focus to his company.
On the first day, he immersed himself in cosmetic formulation. He had bought the knowledge from his System.
In the lab, white coats stood surrounding him, arms crossed, skeptical at first. But as he worked, measuring with confident precision, their eyes widened. He mixed, refined, and after hours of concentration, presented a cream.
"Try it tonight," he instructed. "By morning, you'll see."
The researchers did. The next day the lab buzzed like a hive. Skin glowing, dark circles erased, blemishes faded. The effect wasn't surface deep—it could last a full twenty-four hours.
Applause burst from the staff. "Incredible!" one researcher exclaimed. "This is… beyond anything we've achieved." Another nearly almost jumped, "Our CEO is a genius."
Jace only gave a small smile.
On the same day, he absorbed the knowledge of advertising. Then he met with Clara Holt, the head of marketing, and her team. He laid out campaign concepts, sketches of visuals, precise slogans. His delivery was smooth, but underneath, every word was a blade carving new paths.
By the time he finished, silence filled the room—then Clara clapped slowly, awe spreading across her face. "I've never seen a campaign this bold. If we pull this off, we'll dominate the market."
He nodded. "It should. The product deserves no less."
That evening, he called Director Amelia. She sounded weary, glasses adjusting in the background.
He said. "The company's press conference will be the same day the sixth episode airs. In the evening, that episode will carry the product's promotion. The impact will be great."
She replied quickly. "That would be great. If a revolutionary product's launch is mentioned in the press conference, then our episode will also gain popularity."
Jace smiled. "Then it's settled."
As a businessman, Jace was laying his pieces across the board, step by step, already setting himself on the path to becoming a financial giant.
On the third day, Jace returned to the set.
The studio lights burned hot overhead, casting long shadows on the painted backdrop. Crew members bustled, checking angles and sound.
Amelia walked up, script in hand, her voice steady. "Today, we're shooting an intimacy scene. You'll be kissing Valentina."
Valentina stood nearby, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
Cameras rolled.
The slate clapped. "Episode five, Scene Ten."
The lights bathed them in a warm glow, softening the scene, perfect for intimacy.
Valentina's voice softened into her role.
"I love you."
Her eyes locked with Jace's, and she leaned in. Their lips met, a kiss that started soft, measured.
Then the kiss deepened, wet, Jace's tongue slipping past her lips, teasing and pressing harder. This time Valentina was ready—she didn't break or flinch, moving in perfect sync with him.
But Jace wasn't done.
His hand, which had been resting at her waist, began to slide lower.
His palm drifted down, inch by inch, until it cupped the curve of her ass.
His fingers grazed over the soft flesh through the thin red nightgown.
Valentina flinched.