The silence of my new office was a profound and heavy thing. After the whirlwind of the day—the declarations, the appointments, the strategic planning—I was finally alone. I sank into the massive leather command chair behind my obsidian desk, the city of Grand Metropolis sprawling beneath me like a carpet of glittering jewels. The feeling was intoxicating, a potent cocktail of power and a deep, bone-deep weariness.
I savored the feeling of ecstasy for a few more moments before I closed my eyes. It was time to take stock, to understand the new reality I had truly forged. "System," I said, "with the [Advanced Appraisal] skill, I can see anyone's status, even if they aren't in the King's Harem, right?"
'Yes, you can.'
"Then show me the Soul Ledgers. One by one. I need to understand."
The System started with the most complicated one. My mom's profile appeared, her Soul Ledger glowing beside it.
Joyce Wilson: [A Secret Reciprocation] & [The Man from the Dream]
I stared at it, a knot of confusion tightening in my gut. "Explain this. A Secret Reciprocation?"
'Host, it means your mother is reciprocating your feelings in her dreams,' the System explained. 'But she still doesn't want to accept it consciously. In her subconscious, you are her hero, her protector, her savior. You are everything she wants, but she is fighting it.'
It made a strange kind of sense. Her dream had been a window into her soul. But as I watched, the glowing text of the Soul Ledger flickered, the words dissolving and reforming right before my eyes.
Joyce Wilson: [A Dangerous Hope] & [The Man Who Sees Me]
My breath hitched. "It changed," I whispered. "Why did it change?"
'Your actions impact their souls, Host,' the System explained. 'Saving her, showing your potential as a leader, and your honest confession in her office—it all had a profound effect. [A Dangerous Hope] means there is now a conscious hope that you and Joyce can be together, but it's dangerous because she still knows how wrong it feels. And [The Man Who Sees Me] means you are no longer just a figure from a dream; you are the one person who sees past the 'mother' and the 'department manager' to the brilliant, capable woman she truly is.'
A slow smile touched my lips. "It means we're moving forward. We just need one last push."
'You are right.'
The System then showed me my aunt's profile.
Christine Holmes: [Unwavering Love for Adam] & [My Forbidden Hope]
"Her Soul Ledger changed, too," I observed.
'Host, your way of handling matters and relationships creates many changes in the hearts of the women around you,' the System said. 'Like your aunt. Her love for you is still unwavering, but previously, she thought she couldn't have you. Now, she has hope. It may be a forbidden hope, but it is hope nonetheless.'
"It means now I only need to wait a little," I murmured.
'Yeah, you can say that.'
Next, we discussed Isabel and Lily. "Their Soul Ledgers haven't changed," I noted.
'Because their Soul Ledgers are already absolute,' the System replied. 'Their feelings for you are no longer in flux. They are a certainty.'
"Yeah, you're right, though." I then had it show me Anna's and Tiffany's. "Explain these."
'For Anna,' the System began, '[Absolute Trust and Devotion] & [My Savior] is because your promise of justice and the way you saved her from Lina has solidified her feelings. Your trust in her, making her a co-founder and calling her your best asset, has made her devotion unshakeable.'
"It means she's starting to fall for me," I commented.
'Yeah. She is seeing you in a new light,' the System confirmed. 'As for Tiffany, [Awe of the Ruler] & [My True Leader] shows her complete acceptance of your superiority. She is a brilliant strategist who was out-strategized. She is willing to serve you now.'
"She's the most amazing woman I have ever seen," I said, thinking of her cold, analytical mind and the ruthless efficiency of her plans.
'Host, you are now understanding how to handle women and your empire. Your mindset is developing.'
"And last, Stacy," I said.
Stacy Brooklyn: [Absolute Love for Her King] & [My King and Partner]
'This shows her love and her motivation for approaching you,' the System said. 'You are her King, that is absolute. And you are her business partner. It is a dual, powerful bond.'
"Today was a really amazing day," I said, a deep sense of satisfaction washing over me. "Now I can feel a little more progress everywhere. My relationships aren't simple, they're a complex web, but I don't care. Because I promised I would make everyone in my family happy, and that's for certain."
'Once again, congratulations, Host.'
(Joyce's Perspective)
My new office was bigger than our entire old apartment. The view of Grand Metropolis from the seventy-fifth floor was so breathtaking it made me dizzy. I stood on the plush carpet, a folder of initial financial projections clutched in my hand, but my mind was a million miles away, lost in the echo of his words.
"I want to build a new one. A relationship where we are just Joyce and Adam."
The phrase vibrated in my head, a constant, reverberating hum. He hadn't just offered me a job; he had offered me a new identity, a chance to be someone other than who I had been for so long. For years, I had been a mother, a widow, a department manager—a series of roles defined by responsibility and loss. But when he looked at me, when he spoke to me with that unnerving, beautiful intensity, he saw someone else. He saw Joyce. A brilliant, capable, and… desirable woman.
A hot blush crept up my neck just thinking about it, a warmth that spread through my entire body. It was a feeling I hadn't experienced in years, a forgotten flutter of life. But right behind it, a cold, sharp knot of guilt tightened in the pit of my stomach. This is wrong. It has to be wrong. How can I feel this way? Adam is the most desirable and lovable man I have ever known, but he is my stepson. My stepson. The word was a desperate, frantic chant in my mind, a shield I was trying to hold up against the overwhelming tide of my own feelings.
But the shield was useless. The truth was, I was starting to accept it. I did love him. I loved the powerful man he had become, the one whose very presence, whose aura, could command a room full of brilliant women into silent awe. I thought of his confession on the balcony—the sheer, breathtaking boldness of it, mixed with a raw innocence that made my heart ache. His prowess wasn't just physical; it was in the way he saw through people, the way he understood their deepest needs and fears.
With a jolt that nearly made me drop my folder, I realized I had never felt anything like this for any man before. Not for Adam's father, whose love was a gentle comfort. Not even for Isabel's father, whose passion was a fleeting memory. Their love had been safe, predictable. What I felt for Adam was a wildfire. It was terrifying, all-consuming, and threatened to burn down the carefully constructed walls of my entire world.
The fear was still there, a constant companion. But for the first time in a long, long time, I also felt a flicker of something else. A dangerous, exhilarating hope. The hope that maybe, just maybe, I could be more than just a mother. That I could be a woman again. And the most terrifying, most wonderful part of it all? The only man who made me feel that way was my son.
(Christine's Perspective)
I stood in the center of my new office, the sleek, minimalist space a blank canvas waiting for me to create. My mind, however, was anything but blank. It was a chaotic storm of a single, powerful voice—Adam's.
"I don't care about society. You are more important to me than any unknown person."
His words were a rebellion, a declaration of war against the very rules that had kept my heart in a cage for my entire adult life. I had built my world around a wall of dignified resignation. My love for him was a secret garden I tended to in the dark, a beautiful, painful thing that could never see the light of day. It wasn't a new feeling, not really. It was a love that had taken root years ago, when he was just a boy, a quiet, intense child who looked at the world with old eyes. I had dismissed it then, burying it under layers of propriety, telling myself it was just a fierce, auntly affection. But now, he had walked into my carefully ordered life with a sledgehammer and started knocking that wall to dust.
He saw my dream, the one I had buried under years of pain and regret, and he didn't just offer to help me rebuild it; he handed me the blueprints and told me to be the architect. He saw my secret love, the love I thought was a shameful, impossible burden, and he didn't just accept it; he mirrored it. He gave me hope. A terrifying, forbidden hope that was now taking root in the ruins of my carefully constructed world.
A desperate, frantic energy surged through me, a feeling so raw and powerful it made my hands tremble. A part of me, a part I thought had died long ago, wanted to run after him, to grab him and scream, 'Yes! I don't care either!' It was a desperate need to cast aside the lonely, elegant mask I had worn for so long and just seize the happiness he was so brazenly offering. The desire was a physical ache in my chest, a painful longing to finally be seen, to finally be loved for the woman I was, not the role I was forced to play.
He was right. I had built my life on the opinions of unknown people, on the fear of a society that would never understand. And for what? A life of quiet, respectable misery? I was scared. Terrified. But for the first time in a long, long time, I also felt truly, breathtakingly alive. He hadn't just offered me a new career; he had offered me a chance to reclaim my own heart.
(Isabel's Perspective)
My new office was amazing, but my mind was still replaying the scene on the desk, a delicious, forbidden thrill that sent shivers down my spine. He was so different now, so confident, so… dominant. The roleplay, the way he called me "Miss Wilson," it was a game, but it was also the truth. In that boardroom, he wasn't my stepbrother anymore. He was the Chairperson. My leader. My man.
And I was his. The thought sent a possessive, proprietary thrill through me. I had been his first. I had claimed him, and he had claimed me. I don't care what anyone else says. I don't care if they can't accept our relationship, if they whisper behind our backs about how a sister and brother can be in love, how wrong it is. Whatever. Their rules, their judgments—they mean nothing to me. I understand nothing but one thing: he loves me. He promised me he would figure everything out, and if he said it, then he will.
But now, I need to do more. I need to be more. I see the way the other women look at him. They are brilliant, powerful women, and they are all drawn to his light, his power. A younger version of me would have been consumed by a fierce, protective jealousy, a raw fear of being replaced. But I'm not just his lover anymore; I'm his COO. He promised me that his love for me will never be compromised, and I believe him. So, I am not jealous. I am motivated.
My role isn't to guard him like a jealous child. My role is to prove to him, to all of them, that I am the most capable, the most loyal, the most indispensable woman in his new empire. I will not be replaced because I will make myself irreplaceable. I need to be his woman and become what a true queen should be for her king. My king. My Adam.
(Tiffany's Perspective)
I replayed the chess match in my head for the tenth time, each mental move a fresh wave of humiliation. It wasn't just that he had beaten me; it was how he had beaten me. I am a champion. I see patterns, I predict outcomes, I control the board. But against him, I was an open book. He didn't just counter my moves; he anticipated them, luring me into traps I didn't see until it was too late. The cold, calculated precision, the effortless foresight… it was like playing against a grandmaster who had already seen the end of the game before the first piece was moved. He hadn't just defeated me; he had dissected me.
Then, in the boardroom, I saw that same terrifying intellect applied not to a game, but to people. He didn't just give a speech; he dismantled their doubts with a surgeon's skill, addressing each woman's deepest insecurity with a confidence that was both terrifying and inspiring. My mother was right when she called him a strategist, but I had to correct her. He wasn't a strategist. He was a ruler. A strategist plays the game with the pieces they are given. A ruler changes the very nature of the board and makes the pieces want to be played.
And his final revelation, his plan to go after the women in his enemies' families… it was a move of such ruthless, breathtaking audacity that it sent a shiver of pure, unadulterated awe through me. It was a strategy of total war, a move that bypassed conventional power structures and aimed directly at the heart of his enemies' legacies. It was a strategy I would have come up with myself, if I had ever dared to be that bold, that utterly without mercy.
I had come to this guild as a babysitter, an agent of my mother sent to keep a talented but reckless boy in check. But I had been wrong. He didn't need to be controlled. He needed to be unleashed. I saw the path ahead of him, a trail of fire and conquest, and I realized I had a choice to make. I could stand in his way, an obstacle to be inevitably crushed by his ambition. Or I could stand beside him, lend my own strategic mind to his cause, and watch the world burn from the front row. The choice, I realized with a dawning, terrifying clarity, was the only logical one a person could make.
(Anna's Perspective)
I wasn't asleep.
When he had gently laid me down on the sofa in my office, when his strong, warm hand had stroked my hair, I had been floating in that hazy, peaceful space between exhaustion and consciousness. My body was too tired to move, but my mind was painfully, wonderfully alert. I heard him whisper, "Good night, my cute junior," his voice so full of a sincere, protective warmth that it made my heart ache and my eyes burn with unshed tears.
Cute junior. No one had ever called me that. I was the weird girl, the nerd, the ghost in the hallways that everyone looked through. To be seen, even in such a simple, gentle way, felt like a miracle. His touch was so different from the violent shoves and cruel pinches of my past. It wasn't demanding or dismissive; it was just… kind. And in that kindness, I felt something I hadn't felt since before Rio's death: safe. Truly safe. It was a feeling so foreign and so overwhelming that it felt like taking a full breath after years of holding it in.
He hadn't just promised me justice for Rio; he had given me a purpose, a place where my strange, nerdy skills were not just accepted, but celebrated. He had stood in that boardroom, in front of all those powerful, beautiful women, and called me a "genius." He had made me a co-founder. Me. The girl who used to eat her lunch in a bathroom stall to avoid being seen. He saw a strength in me that I never knew I had, and by seeing it, he made it real.
My feelings for him, which had started as a deep, profound gratitude for the one person who had stood up for me, were blossoming into something more. The gratitude was still there, a constant, glowing ember in my chest. But now, it was surrounded by something new, something that made my heart beat a little faster whenever he looked at me. It was a quiet, absolute devotion. He was my leader, the one who gave me my orders. He was my senior, the one who protected me. But now, he was also my savior, the one who was pulling me from the darkness of my past and showing me a future I never thought I deserved. And I would use every ounce of my ability, every line of code I could ever write, to make sure he succeeded. I would become the sharpest weapon in his arsenal.
(Lily's Perspective)
I sat in the plush armchair in my new office, a glass of deep red wine swirling in my hand. The city lights of Grand Metropolis twinkled below like a fallen constellation, a universe away from the quiet, predictable life I had known. The transition had been jarring, a violent shift from the familiar, chalk-dusted world of academia to this high-stakes corporate battlefield. Just days ago, my biggest concern was an ungraded stack of history essays. Now, I was the Head of Human Resources for an empire in the making, an empire built on the ambitions of a boy who was rapidly becoming a king. But as I stared out at the glittering expanse, I felt no regret. Only a quiet, profound sense of purpose I never knew I was missing.
My feelings for Adam had evolved with a speed that left me breathless. The initial, shocking infatuation—the scandalous thrill of a student's bold proposal—had deepened into something far more solid, more real. It had become faith. I believed in him. I believed in the raw, chaotic energy that seemed to burn behind his eyes, a fire that could either build a utopia or burn the world to ash. I believed in his brilliant, strategic mind, and I believed in the fearless man who could look into the face of his own loneliness and decide to conquer it instead of surrendering to it.
My gaze drifted around the imagined boardroom table, my mind analytically cataloging the other women who now orbited his star. I saw the possessive, primal fire in Isabel's eyes—the fierce, unwavering love of the first partner, a bond that was both the kingdom's greatest strength and its most volatile element. I saw the cool, calculating desire in Stacy's gaze—the ambition of an alpha who had finally met her match, a powerful and dangerous ally whose loyalty was tied directly to Adam's success. And I saw the deep, impossibly complicated love in Joyce's and Christine's expressions, a web of maternal affection, forbidden desire, and profound hope that formed the emotional heart of our strange new family.
An old version of me, the lonely woman who had built a fortress around her heart, would have been consumed by a bitter, corrosive jealousy. I would have seen them all as rivals, threats to the one precious thing I had finally found. But the new me, the one Adam had appointed as Head of Human Resources and Talent Development, saw it for what it was: a complex court that needed to be managed.
My role wasn't to compete for his affection; it was to help him navigate the treacherous waters of his own empire. He was a king, and a king with a court full of powerful queens was a king whose reign could either be legendary or disastrously short. He needed more than just a lover. He needed a counselor, a strategist, someone who could see the entire board and advise him on the moves that would ensure not just victory, but stability. And I would be the best one he ever had.
(Stacy's Perspective)
I stood in my new office, the chairperson's suite, a kingdom of glass and chrome perched at the apex of the city. The panoramic view of Grand Metropolis was a testament to the power I had always craved, a sprawling chessboard laid out just for me. This was my element. I understood power, ambition, the cold, hard calculus of a transaction. But my mind wasn't on the city. It was on him.
My entire life has been a study in the failures of men. My father, a man of immense power, was a cold, distant star. He managed a global conglomerate with ruthless efficiency but couldn't manage to remember my birthday. He saw me and my mother not as family, but as assets, bargaining chips in his endless game of power. Then there was Charles, my pathetic ex-fiancé. He had the name, the money, the physique, but underneath it all, he was a hollow man, a boy playing dress-up in his father's world, terrified of his own shadow.
And then there is Adam.
I remembered the day he humiliated Charles in the school hallway. The sheer, breathtaking audacity of it. He didn't just beat him; he dismantled him, piece by piece, right in front of me. And in that moment, watching Charles crumble, I didn't feel a shred of pity. I felt… exhilarated. I was amazed that someone, a boy who had been a ghost just weeks before, could be so daring, so utterly without fear.
Then today, in the boardroom, I saw another side of him. It wasn't just the raw, chaotic power of a fighter. It was the calm, absolute authority of a ruler. The aura he projected, the way he commanded the room, it wasn't just a skill; it was a part of him. Every woman he had gathered—the brilliant teacher, the legendary model, his fiercely loyal sister, the cyber-terrorist in a schoolgirl's uniform—each one was a master in her own field. Every man he had on his team—the loyal Jack, the fanatical Ken, the powerhouse Kenji—they were all perfect pieces on his board. He has an uncanny ability to look into the discarded, the broken, the overlooked, and see the diamond in the rough.
He is powerful, yes. But he is also caring. He didn't just command; he inspired. He didn't just lead; he protected. He is everything my father is not. He is everything Charles could never be.
I have never been truly attracted to any man before. They were all just… tools. Pawns in my own game. But Adam… Adam is different. He is special. He is top-notch. His power is intoxicating, a heady, addictive drug that I find myself craving. And in that boardroom, watching him, I felt an emotion I had never felt before, a strange, terrifying flutter in my chest. And I knew, with a certainty that shook me to my very core, that I had to have him. I am sure he can fulfill my dream. He is the missing piece, the king I need to win my war.