Dylan couldn't believe the events that had transpired today. All of it. None of it made sense.
He expected at some point to wake up and find out that it was all a dream, and that he was still a lonely virgin.
But the redness on his arm after pinching himself countless times told a different story.
He had fucked Diana Miller, his boss and Head of Investments Division, in the store room while others were working.
That was extremely dangerous! And he didn't even care.
What if someone had come in? Why did that thought never bothered him back then? And the way he had fucked her; the faces she made.
Was he always that good at sex or had it been the Incubus soul's doing?
Dylan let out an overwhelmed sigh, leaning back against the smooth cold wall of the elevator as it hummed upward.
He caught a glance of his reflection in the mirrored wall. He looked the same as always—tall, brooding, eyes shadowed with permanent gloom—but inside him, everything had changed.
Even outside too. He couldn't forget: apparently, he was now a millionaire.
He looked down at the glowing red interface still hovering in his vision.
[$40,000,000 has been transferred to your bank account]
Dylan had scoffed at it at first, back in the store room. It wasn't really possible for something like that to happen, despite the supernatural powers he now had.
The system couldn't be that powerful that it would generate digital cash out of thin air.
He grimaced at the question.
Would it?
Because when his bank sent the notification, Dylan had no choice but to throw away his doubt.
'Starcrest Bank: You have received a cash transfer. Amount: $40,000,000.'
'Balance: $40,750,347.11'
Dylan had almost gasped. He opened the bank app and checked his balance twice, then a third time, half-expecting the numbers to vanish.
But they hadn't.
Still in disbelief, he had told Diana to clean up. And when she demanded he deleted the video in front of her, he obliged, leaving the store room after with her still soaked in his liquids.
Dylan blew air from his mouth, causing the locks of hair on his forehead to bounce.
The sex was awesome, and that to him was enough reward, but forty million dollars?
In one day? From one woman?
He stepped out of the elevator into the pristine marble lobby of his apartment building.
It was an apartment building for wealthy people, which was why it was always very silent and people went along with their day in quietude, side-eyeing and mumbling to greetings.
Or maybe that was only in Dylan's case.
The lobby was a fine one, designed with red and brown walls, chandeliers and small wall-statues.
Some residents swept through in designer coats, their perfume and arrogance clouding the air.
Dylan barely noticed them. His eyes and mind were still focused on the screen hovering in front of him.
What do you even do with forty million?
He had never needed much. He liked his motorcycle, his quiet dinners, his books and light novels.
He had a spacious apartment, courtesy of Sunlight Group, and more than enough from his paycheck.
It wasn't like he despised extravagance, he just didn't know how to be extravagant. And rarely ever cared.
But the power behind the system wasn't just wealth. It was dominion. What else would it give him, now that he had claimed Miss Miller as his Bride?
And what did it mean now that she was his Bride?
Were they actually going to get married?
Dylan was amused at the thought of Miss Miller marrying him as he fished his keys from his briefcase.
He barely noticed the young woman who walked past his back, heading to her own apartment.
She stopped at her door, then turned to his direction, staring at him.
Dylan finally found his keys and moved to unlock his door when he heard a soft voice beside him.
"Excuse me."
Dylan paused. The key hovered just short of the lock. He turned his head slowly.
A girl was standing there, in front of the apartment door directly beside his, her arms clutching a grocery bag.
He recognized her face instantly—he had seen her dozens of times in the hallways of this very building.
She was an extremely attractive girl, someone he would expect to see in a modelling advert or a runway.
She had long blond hair, an oval shaped face that held cat-like almond shaped eyes, colored an arresting shade of blue. Her lips were full and naturally rosy, her cheeks were delicate with a blush of red.
With tall beautiful legs supporting her, her slender frame also carried a firm set of perky breasts and a thin waist above her nicely shaped rear.
She always walked past without a word, without even glancing his way. And if she did, it was with the same mild disgust that everyone else wore when they looked at him.
But today she had stopped. She was looking right at him.
And she was smiling.
Dylan's brows furrowed faintly. "…Me?"
"Yeah." She adjusted the bag, her eyes meeting his without flinching. "I know you, right? You work at Sunlight Group? My mom works there too."
For a second Dylan just looked at her, his mind strangely blank. People didn't usually talk to him like this. Not women. Not this girl either.
"Really?" he managed finally, his voice low and uncertain. "Your mother works at Sunlight Group?"
"Mhm mhm." She nodded eagerly, her hair bouncing. Then she walked closer and extended a hand, her smile widening youthfully.
"I'm Ashley."
Dylan stared at her hand a second too long, still uncertain of what was happening.
He finally took it, feeling how small and soft her palm was against his larger, calloused one.
"I'm Dylan," he said.
His voice felt rougher than he meant it to, but she didn't seem to mind.
"Well, Dylan," Ashley said, still holding the smile, "it's nice to finally meet you."
He nodded awkwardly, pulled his hand back, and turned toward his door. His heart was thumping strangely fast for such a simple encounter.
'Why was she smiling at me? Why did she even talk to me?'
He'd spent months being ignored by her and he never really cared. So why now?
It suddenly felt like he'd stepped into some alternate reality.
He was sliding the key into the lock when her voice stopped him again.
"Actually… could you maybe help me with something?"
He turned, eyes narrowing slightly. "…Help?"
Ashley shifted the grocery bag to one arm. "It's my TV. The picture keeps flickering on and off. I've tried everything, but it won't stop. I was wondering if you'd take a look? You seem like the kind of guy who might know how to fix it."
Dylan stared at her like a statue.
His pulse quickened again, but this time for a different reason. He had never set foot in a girl's home before, and this one was inviting him inside her apartment.
To fix her TV?
"Why not just call the repair guy?" he asked her flatly.
Ashley chuckled. "You really are kinda monotone, don't you think?"
Dylan only stared at her.
She smiled. "I can't wait for the repair guy. My favorite show is coming on in a few hours and he's closed for the day. Can you just take a look? Please?"
Dylan hesitated, staring at her. He remarked to himself how beautiful she was before swallowing hard.
"…I guess I can try."
Ashley's smile brightened, relief written all over her features. "Great! Come on in then."
She opened her door and entered inside, leaving it ajar for him.