Chapter 287

Daphne

"As you know," Bernard Han begins, his voice low and deliberate, "it has only been a month since your brother assumed the office of Mayor. And since you are now in town... I suggest you be on your best behavior."

I don’t respond. I can’t exactly blame him—from what this body’s memories tell me, the original Daphne was a handful. Clubs, substances, scandals whispered about in society columns... all the classic rich-family rebellion playbook.

He takes my silence as either submission or indifference. His eyes narrow slightly.

"I do not expect anything from you," he continues, the words careful, precise, and utterly dismissive.

"So the least you can do is not drag your brother down with your... antics."

I so badly want to rebel, and drag the family reputation through the mud, but what if this world’s version of my beloved would not take too kindly to a wild lifestyle? So i don’t.

"Understood," I say, my voice flat and toneless.

*

They say a human’s greatest strength is their ability to adapt to their circumstances.

I can confirm it’s true. I’ve had to.

Sure, I still flinch every time I step into the shower and ....lo and behold—there’s a massive schlong hanging where it shouldn’t be. I just... try not to acknowledge it.

I sit in front of the computer screen in my apartment, the city’s skyline a glittering, indifferent backdrop.

With the System’s help, I’m finding my footing in this world. The male leads are literal pillars of power—CEOs, a mayor, a mafia boss. I come from a powerful family, too, but it’s borrowed influence. Not my power. Not my authority.

There are two classic paths to power here: a company, or the mafia.

Hmmmnn.

Why not both?

I can’t start from scratch,there’s no time. The only viable move is a takeover. Find structures already standing, already struggling, and make them mine.

I watch the purple icon glide across the screen, sifting through firewalls and databases with silent, digital grace.

"I like how useful you are now," I murmur.

[It comes with the upgrade. I am now able to access the digital information streams of most modern-class worlds.]

"Yes, yes," I say, waving a hand. My eyes are fixed on the monitor.

[These are the targets that fit the host’s requirements.]

A list materializes on the screen. Three companies, each with metrics glowing beside them, high yield potential.Their only flaw? A catastrophic lack of funds. Unfortunate circumstances.

Money? That, I can get.

The second list is less impressive. Small-time factions, petty thugs, minor gangs gutted by infighting or poor leadership. Weak. Disorganized. Vulnerable.

Too easy.

"System," I say, a slow smile spreading across my face. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

[...]

Its silence is almost judgmental. I lean forward, my reflection a sharp, determined ghost in the dark glass of the screen.

"Can you access certain politicians’ files? The... compromising kind? I know exactly how to get the huge amounts of money I need."

***

Elliot

"Come again, thank you," I say with a practiced smile as the customers leave the hotel restaurant.

It was genuinely just luck that I got this job. With it, I can finally start paying back my debts and help my little brother stay in school. Every tip, every shift, is a small step toward breathing again.

"Elliot, there’s a customer asking for you. Seems like a pretty important person—the manager said you have to hurry up."

A coworker leans in, her voice low and urgent. I just started working here; I’m not good with names yet. Betty? Jenny? Doesn’t matter.

"Of course," I say, smoothing down my uniform. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

I follow her through the bustling kitchen, my mind racing. Why would an important customer ask for me?

The only person I know who’d do something like that is Elijah, but he’s away on a business trip right now.

Outside the private dining room, the manager waits, looking unusually tense. Without a word, he pushes me gently through the door.

I step inside.

The room is quiet, elegant. And there, seated at the table in a silk robe as if he owns the place—which he might—is the culprit.

My smile drops.

I clench my fists behind my back.

"Good afternoon, sir. How may I be of service?"

The man chuckles. He’s handsome in a sharp, expensive way—tall, with imposing blue eyes, and dark hair still damp. An Alpha. And, most importantly, this is Elijah’s rival: Charles Grey.

Elijah Jacobs and Charles Grey. Rival businessmen, both CEOs of wildly successful companies at just thirty. The media loves comparing them. They don’t get along at all—Charles, who grew up in wealth and power, and Elijah, who clawed his way up from nothing.

"This," Charles says, motioning dismissively to the spread of gourmet meals laid out before him. He doesn’t look at me. "I’m busy. Feed me."

Every part of me wants to turn and walk away. But I need this job. I can’t depend only on the money Elijah gives me—won’t let myself be that kind of burden.

So I swallow the pride stuck in my throat, walk over, and do as he says.

I’m in the middle of bringing a forkful of meat to his mouth when his hand snaps out, quick as a snake. He grabs my wrist, pulls hard, and I stumble—landing awkwardly in his lap.

"Seriously," he murmurs, his voice a low, predatory rumble against my ear. His arm locks around my waist, holding me in place. "Where did that bastard find something as delectable as you?"

I struggle, but he’s stronger. Much stronger. An Alpha’s strength, casual and crushing.

"Let me go," I say, but my voice is already thinner than I want it to be.

He doesn’t. Instead, he tilts his head, nosing along the line of my jaw, moving down to my neck. His breath is hot against my skin.

"You might be on suppressants," he says, almost conversational, as if commenting on the weather, "but your pheromones still peek through. You know."

My heart hammers against my ribs. I struggle again, twisting,and then I freeze.

My butt feels something hard, unmistakable, pressed against me.

He stills for a moment, then lets out a soft, dark chuckle. He takes my stiffness as a sign—a surrender. He places an open-mouthed kiss against my throat, right over my racing pulse.

"Let me go," I say again, weaker this time. It sounds pathetic even to my own ears. And then I realize why.

He’s released his pheromones.

They hit me like a warm, heavy wave. They curl into my lungs, sweet and intoxicating, clouding my thoughts, loosening my limbs. My own suppressed Omega instincts stir, a drowsy, traitorous heat unfurling low in my belly.

I go slack in his hold, breath catching.

"That’s better," Charles purrs, nuzzling into my neck. "Now... be a good Omega and stay still."