The office was quiet, but the undercurrent of restless emotion in the air was anything but calm. It was already past three in the afternoon.
Grace Spurlt, her cheeks tinged with a delicate flush, moved like a dutiful wife—or perhaps a doting maid—as she helped Simon tidy up his clothes piece by piece. After ensuring he was comfortably reclined in the leather chair behind her desk, she brought him a glass of soda water. Only then did she turn her attention to fixing herself up.
Even in the cool, air-conditioned room, the memory of what had just happened left her feeling slightly overheated.
She felt as though she had lost her mind.
To the point of doing something unthinkable—making a deliberate call to her children at home during the act. She had chatted with her daughter, Rita, for over ten minutes, leaving the poor girl understandably puzzled.
And then, Simon had almost "ended her."
After fixing her hair and touching up her makeup in the restroom, she quickly returned. When Simon extended a hand, she naturally moved to sit on his lap, leaning against his chest. For another ten minutes, they remained quiet, savoring the moment together. Only when she felt completely at peace did she finally speak reluctantly.
"They must be getting impatient outside. I've kept you to myself for so long that some of the girls are probably cursing me in secret."
"Do they know I'm here?"
"I had someone call them over. I didn't spell it out, but you know—they're all very clever."
"Then let them wait."
"Don't you have other plans this afternoon?"
"Nothing important. Whether I do or don't get to it doesn't really matter."
Grace hesitated. "Then maybe you should go take care of it first."
"I said it's nothing," Simon replied, patting her gently. "At this point, whatever I do or don't do makes no difference. Sometimes, I even think about retiring early."
"You're only 28! If you're already thinking about retirement, then what does that say about the rest of us?"
"What can I say? I'm just that good."
"Ha."
Grace laughed along, her heart filling with admiration once again.
This man was hers.
Then, his voice came unexpectedly: "Divorce Bill. From now on, you'll be mine."
Her immediate instinct was to say yes.
But after a moment's thought, she responded, "I don't need to. I'm already your woman."
Besides, judging by what had just happened, he clearly liked things the way they were.
Still, Simon repeated, "Divorce him."
"Alright."
This time, she didn't argue, nor did she dwell on the future. Being with this man was her future. Lowering her voice, she added softly, "I'll fight for custody of Rita and Ray."
"Good."
They shared another moment of quiet intimacy before Grace finally sat up. She gently stroked Simon's face, gazing at him with an almost obsessive intensity. "That's enough. I shouldn't monopolize you any longer. By the way, those influencer girls I mentioned before? I had them come over too. Do you want to meet them?"
Simon thought of Christina Hendricks, who had unexpectedly become one of Elite's rising stars. Truly a memorable figure.
Her… assets were certainly noteworthy.
Still, being in a moment of calm detachment, he shook his head.
Grace, reluctant to leave his lap entirely, shifted topics. "You don't seem to have a yacht. Why not commission one? You could take the girls out on weekends."
Her comment, though casual, seemed to touch on something deeper.
A distant memory.
Not his own, but someone else's.
A large ocean liner. An ostracized little boy. A magnificent sunset bleeding into the horizon. And a middle-aged couple who mysteriously vanished while watching the scenery from the deck.
A woman deeply in love can often sense the faintest shifts in a man's emotions. Grace felt it now.
Pain. Confusion. Hatred. Inner turmoil.
Her heart ached for him.
Leaning back down, she kissed his face gently. Without asking a single question, she silently berated herself for bringing him this pain. She endured his arms tightening reflexively around her waist, the grip nearly suffocating.
But if it could ease his burden, she thought, she'd gladly die for him.
Though, if she were to die so suddenly, it might cause him trouble. It would be better to find a secluded place where he could handle things more easily. Ideally, he could bury her in the backyard of one of his estates. She'd only come out at night to watch him… quietly, without scaring him.
After what felt like an eternity, Simon finally spoke again. "The real reason is that I don't like the feeling of being stranded on an isolated island."
Not wanting to linger on the topic, Grace swiftly changed the subject. "If you're not interested in Christina, there are three Chinese girls from this year's competition. I remember you like China. They're quite promising."
Simon glanced at her. "You seem to enjoy pushing me toward other women."
Grace met his gaze, her tone unwavering. "I suspect many of the women around you feel the same as I do." She reached out as if to touch his face but rested her hand on his chest instead, lightly tracing circles. Her eyes stayed locked on his. "You're too extraordinary, Simon. You make us all feel like we can only look up to you. And if we take too much of you, it feels like a sin."
Hearing this, Simon realized something. Many of the women in his life—including Janet—seemed to share this sentiment.
Tightening his hold on her slender waist, Simon said, "I suddenly feel like I could've been a great man if you hadn't all spoiled me."
Grace rolled her eyes at him, freeing herself from his embrace. She grabbed the Elite World Modeling Competition portfolio from the desk and returned to his lap. Flipping through the pages, she pointed out a few candidates. "This is Jane, 19 years old, 181 cm tall. This is Tao, 22 years old, 179 cm tall. And lastly, Zhu, 18 years old, 182 cm tall. I picked them with you in mind. I know you're not like most people who prefer high-cheekboned Asian women. These girls don't have that look."
Simon studied the profiles with interest.
Grace was using their surnames—Jane, Tao, and Zhu. She didn't understand Chinese, but Simon could read their full names: Jian Xin, Tao Yuelai, and Zhu Momo.
The names didn't match any famous Chinese models he remembered from the 1990s, but that didn't surprise him.
China's population of over a billion, coupled with Simon's decade-long ripple effect on history, had altered countless outcomes. Unless he deliberately sought someone out, the chances of meeting familiar figures were close to zero.
Increasingly, Simon found himself uninterested in chasing celebrities from his past memories. After all, why would someone who'd reached the heights of academia care about a gold star from kindergarten?
His preferences for women were now purely personal. Even the Hollywood A-listers who were the dreams of millions couldn't reach his bed if they didn't spark his interest.
Grace's picks were clearly tailored to his tastes. All three girls were striking and in line with his aesthetic preferences.
After her introduction, Simon's curiosity was piqued. "Bring them in. Let's take a look."
Grace made a quick call to her assistant and relayed his request. Setting the receiver down, she smiled at him. "They'll be here shortly."
Simon continued reviewing Zhu Momo's profile. "Are you planning to expand business in China?"
"Yes," Grace replied. "We've been testing collaborations there since last year, and I've completely changed my perspective. Chinese companies are very willing to spend money—more than I'd imagined. Even Sophia was surprised. Some of her Melisandre high-fashion brands sell for tens of thousands of dollars in China, and they're still in high demand."
Simon smiled faintly. "If you want to grow your business there, you don't necessarily need Chinese models. Foreign faces are more popular in China. Just send a few blonde girls over, and you'll see better results."
Grace seemed puzzled. "Why's that?"
Simon shrugged, offering no further explanation.
Trusting him implicitly, Grace made a mental note. If he said so, he must be right. This could even reduce costs—she could simply send Elite's established models to China instead of cultivating new talent locally.
With Elite overflowing with top-tier models thanks to Simon's backing, opening a new market could help reduce internal competition.
Still, Grace wasn't entirely satisfied with the three Chinese girls she'd signed. Their ages, for one, were on the higher side.
In Western modeling, girls often signed contracts as young as 14. By 20, those who hadn't risen to prominence were quickly phased out.
In contrast, China's more conservative culture meant most entrants were over 18, lacking the years of foundational training common in the West. Their professional skills inevitably lagged behind.
---
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Grace's assistant, Sally Karan, entered with the three Chinese girls, all tall and poised.
"This is Mr. Westeros," Grace introduced casually. "You must know who he is. He's also Elite's owner. Tao, why don't you three chat with Mr. Westeros?"
She then turned to Simon. "I'll leave you to it."
Gathering some files, Grace left the office with her assistant, leaving Simon alone with the three girls.
He studied them carefully.
In person, they were even
more striking than their photos. All around six feet tall, they wore heels that further emphasized their statuesque figures. Each had a distinct look.
Jian Xin, in a pale pink dress, exuded elegance. Her refined, soft features carried a calm maturity that made her seem older than her 19 years.
Tao Yuelai, in a blouse and jeans, was the most youthful-looking despite being 22. Her delicate, oval face, paired with willow-like eyebrows, almond eyes, and rosy lips, evoked the image of a serene girl from a southern water town.
Zhu Momo, on the other hand, had a striking, angular face that epitomized the high-fashion aesthetic. Her bold bangs and a cropped T-shirt paired with shorts suggested a playful, confident personality.
The girls reacted differently to Simon's gaze.
Jian Xin lowered her eyes shyly but occasionally glanced at him, her demeanor both reserved and enticing.
Tao Yuelai, visibly nervous, tried to meet his gaze, her hands awkwardly fidgeting with the seams of her jeans.
Zhu Momo, however, met his eyes boldly, her expression eager and unflinching.
After observing them for a moment, Simon broke the silence with perfect Mandarin. "I suddenly feel like heading to Long Island. Want to come along?" He stood and added meaningfully, "We might not come back tonight."
The three girls blinked in surprise, first taken aback by his flawless Mandarin, then by the implications of his words.
Simon dialed a number on his phone, spoke briefly, and then opened the door. "Follow me."
The girls exchanged uncertain glances but obediently followed him.
They took the elevator down, joined by two burly bodyguards. The confined space brought them closer to Simon. Before long, they arrived at an underground parking lot where a black Bentley awaited.
As a bodyguard opened the car door, Simon smiled and said, "It's a bit cramped. Two of you can sit on one side, and one can sit on my lap. Who's volunteering?"
The girls froze in confusion. Zhu Momo hesitated briefly before opening her mouth to volunteer, but Simon gestured toward Tao Yuelai. "You," he said. "Jian Xin and Momo, take the other seat."
Tao Yuelai, her mind a whirlwind, instinctively reached out as Simon extended his hand. His palm enveloped hers, large and warm, as he guided her into the car.
Before she realized what was happening, she found herself perched on his lap.
Her cheeks flushed as she adjusted to the unfamiliar proximity. Facing outward in a side-saddle position, she silently thanked her luck that the others couldn't see her expression.
Meanwhile, Jian Xin and Zhu Momo managed to share the remaining seat without much trouble, though the sight of Tao Yuelai nestled on Simon's lap stirred a mix of envy, annoyance, and amusement between them.
As the car set off, Simon addressed Jian Xin. "Your name, Jian Xin. It's not exactly the most fortunate one, is it?"
Jian Xin hesitated briefly before responding. "It wasn't intentional when my family named me. By the time we realized, it just stuck."
In Mandarin, "Jian Xin" sounds like "hardship," a name often considered inauspicious.
Simon nodded with a smile. "It's not a bad thing. In China, there's a saying that people with less auspicious names tend to have smoother lives."
Jian Xin looked at him in amazement. "Mr. Westeros, I didn't expect you to know even that."
"Call me Simon. And skip the formalities—I'm not that old."
"Alright, Simon," Jian Xin agreed, adding, "People usually just call me Xin Xin."
"Xin Xin," Simon repeated before turning to Zhu Momo. "And Momo, your name is quite unique. Who came up with it?"
Zhu Momo perked up, her posture shifting toward Simon. Any trace of aloofness was replaced with eagerness. Smiling, she replied, "My parents fought over it."
"Oh?" Simon feigned curiosity.
"My dad's surname is Zhu, and my mom's surname is Mo. When I was born, my mom wanted me to take her name, but my dad disagreed. They argued for ages until my grandparents intervened to settle things. My mom didn't get her way, but she still managed to influence my first name by combining both surnames—so I became Zhu Momo."
"Sounds like your mom's a formidable woman," Simon remarked.
"She was! She was gorgeous back then, too. My grandpa's family had a good reputation, so people always said my dad was lucky to marry her. And later on, my mom had a hand in naming all my siblings—they've all got 'Mo' in their names, too. Zhu Molin, Zhu Mohai, Zhu Moxue…"
Simon chuckled. "Zhu Molin, Zhu Mohai, Zhu Moxue. If this keeps up, your family might create a new compound surname."
"Right?" Zhu Momo beamed. "My mom would love that."
Simon mused, "What's your mom's name, then?"
"Mo Yiling," Zhu Momo replied confidently.
Simon quipped, "I bet there's also a Mo Erling or Mo Sanling in the family?"
To his surprise, Zhu Momo nodded earnestly. "Actually, there is—up to Mo Wuling. My mom's the eldest of seven kids, five girls and two boys. My youngest aunt, Mo Wuling, is only two years older than me and still in college."
As their conversation flowed, the Bentley reached a helipad by the East River. The sight of the private helicopter awed the girls, none of whom had ever flown in one before.
---
Once airborne, Zhu Momo couldn't hide her excitement, clinging to Simon's arm and letting out gleeful exclamations. Her unabashed enthusiasm drew an amused glance from Tao Yuelai, who sat across from them with Jian Xin.
While Zhu Momo reveled in the experience, Tao Yuelai looked out the window at the shrinking Manhattan skyline. Her lips curved into a faint smile, though she kept her thoughts to herself.
For these girls—none of whom came from particularly privileged backgrounds—the experience was nothing short of surreal.
_________________________
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