Wealth could make the impossible possible. The moment a hundred thousand dollars was mentioned, the hired thugs sprang into action, rolling up their sleeves, ready to send Maeve Riley to her doom.

They were no strangers to such shady dealings, especially with George Corporation backing them.

Just as they brandished their weapons, poised in front of Maeve, a tall figure stepped forward to shield her.

"Who dares to lay a finger on her?"

Aliza George's head shot up, taken aback by the commanding presence and looks of the man protecting Maeve. She had always considered Khai Howell, the man she fancied, to be exceptional. Yet, standing before this man made Khai seem less impressive by comparison.

However, seeing such an attractive man standing up for Maeve left her bewildered.

"Handsome, don't be fooled by Maeve Riley's charms. Do you have any idea about her scandalous private life? Just the other night, she was with an old man for money, and now she's here to string you along. Aren't you worried about catching something?"

Maeve, nestled securely in Khai Howell's embrace, scoffed at the baseless accusations. Her lips curled into a sardonic smile. "Aliza, if you have time for tall tales, perhaps you should first see a doctor to check if you contracted anything that night. Besides..."

Maeve's delicate hand playfully traced Khai's chest, tugging on his tie to draw him closer. Her voice was a sweet tease, "Honey, if I'm not even interested in you, how could I possibly be with another man, let alone end up in bed with one?"

Khai was momentarily speechless but found her logic quite convincing.

Was she clarifying just to prevent him from misunderstanding her? A strange emotion flickered through him. He swallowed, gently removing her hand from his tie and holding it softly in his palm, his voice deep and husky. "Hmm."

Aliza's eyes widened in disbelief. Did he actually buy it?

Feeling utterly ignored infuriated her. She was like a ruffled hen, shouting, "What are you standing around for? Don’t you want that hundred thousand?! Get them!"

The mention of a hundred thousand dollars snapped the thugs back to attention, and they reached aggressively for their weapons.

But before they could move, they were stopped by Khai's piercing gaze, freezing them in their tracks.

With a cool demeanor, Khai spoke, his words carrying undeniable authority, "A million, I want her life."

Khai held a check between his fingers, the string of zeros making the thugs' eyes gleam with greed.

They weren't fools; they immediately questioned the check's authenticity. But looking at the man's expensive attire and innate authoritative presence, they were certain he was someone significant.

The lead thug swallowed hard, almost ready to reach for the check, only for Maeve to deftly snatch it away.

"Honey, you can’t just throw money around like that. Besides, there are seven of them here. How could they divide it fairly?"

Seeing her pout and the mischievous grin on her face, Khai found himself asking, almost without thinking, "So, what do you suggest?"

Maeve clutched the check, tempted to pocket it herself. But with Khai watching, she refrained from being overt.

Pointing at Aliza, she suggested playfully, "How about this? A thousand per slap. I'll referee and even record it for you. You seven can earn as much as you want, and when we're done, come to me to collect."

She waved the million-dollar check enticingly at the seven thugs.

Aliza shouted in disbelief, "Who dares?!"

Maeve offered a gentle reminder, "Oh dear, my phone’s about to die. So let’s say five minutes only. Once the recording ends, all this easy money would just slip away."

The thugs had grown tired of Aliza’s demanding demeanor. Despite her glamorous front, she was stingy with them, paying just a thousand dollars a month while expecting them to commit various misdeeds.

Seeing her sneering at them only fueled their frustration.

"Guys, let's give her what she deserves!"

"This woman kicked me twice last week, nearly breaking my back. Watch me turn her into a pig today!"

One thug even asked Maeve, "Miss, do we earn more for kicks?"

Maeve quickly calculated, "Sure, a slap is a thousand, a kick's a thousand fifty. Just leave her alive, please."

That’s why Maeve stepped in—she didn’t want Khai to bear such a burden.

"Got it! Everyone, you heard? Go for it!"

The thugs swarmed Aliza, who never imagined such a fate.

The room echoed with the sound of slaps and Aliza’s cries, like a symphony that refused to end.

"Maeve Riley, you'll get yours!"

Despite her swollen mouth, Aliza screamed hysterically.

Maeve, filming the scene to calculate wages, sighed, "Come on, folks, she's still talking after all this?"

"Sorry, miss, I'll shut her up now!"

"Slap, slap, slap!" Aliza's face endured another barrage, her lips bleeding, staining her neck—a pitiful sight. Yet her semblance of a malevolent spirit drew no sympathy.

When the five minutes concluded, Maeve distributed the thugs’ wages accordingly.

Aliza lay like a broken doll on the ground, her fingers clawing at the floor, tears streaming. She vowed to repay Maeve’s humiliation a hundredfold.

"Bro, get her to the hospital. Here's 800, use it for an initial checkup."

With the air of a professional accountant, Maeve filled out the checkbook for Khai. Once the payments were done, she looked up at Khai, waiting for praise.

"Honey, have you learned anything? Even billionaires should value sustainable practices. I've just saved you a good five million by changing tactics. So, how about you..."

Her eyes twinkled with hope.

"Alright, this five million, I’ll keep it," Khai said nonchalantly, tucking the half-completed checkbook into his pocket.

Maeve was silent. Five million, gone just like that. This damn capitalist! Hope he enjoys saving it for his casket!

"Ha." Maeve shot him a cold smile. "Thank you, honey. I'll be off now. If you want to unwind, I can send some pretty ladies your way. Have a lovely evening."

She waved dismissively, attempting a graceful exit.

But from behind, Khai's deep, captivating voice called out.

"Maeve."

His voice, like a siren's song, quickened her heartbeat.

"Tonight, I want you to stay with me."

The suggestive tone caught her off guard. Surely, he didn’t mean... that, did he?

Just a moment ago, Khai Howell's phone lit up with persistent calls from his grandfather, Jovanni Shaw. After sending it to voicemail for the eighth time, a barrage of WhatsApp messages appeared on his screen.

"Kid, the girl from the West family is your childhood friend. It's already 7:30 PM, and you still haven't shown up. Are you trying to drive me to an early grave?"

"Reach out to her immediately. If you miss this meeting again, I'll make sure your entire company feels it!"

"You have exactly 10 minutes to message her. If you don't, I'll jump out the window, and you'll be the one burying me!"

"Only 8 minutes left!"

[Coffin emoji]

Jovanni sent a coffin emoji, a not-so-subtle reminder that if Khai stood up Miss West again tonight, he'd be pushing his grandfather closer to the grave.

Khai sighed deeply, sliding his phone into his suit pocket.

The Miss West his grandfather mentioned was Zara West, the cherished youngest of the West family, who had been doted on by her five older brothers all her life. The Wests were nearly as prominent in London as the Howells were.

Even before their children were born, the families had arranged their engagement. Only after five sons did the Wests finally have their treasured daughter.

Khai had met Zara a few times during their childhood, remembering her as the little girl who liked to cling to him, calling him "brother." She was absolutely adorable, with a gentle voice and a sweet disposition.

When Zara was five, she disappeared. A decade later, she returned to the West family, and Khai couldn't shake the feeling that the Zara he knew as a child was different from the grown-up version standing before him.

Zara, however, remained fond of Khai and openly expressed her affections when they reunited, despite Khai seeing her only as a sister. He had made this clear countless times, emphasizing that he didn't share her romantic feelings.

Yet, Zara persisted, sending countless letters each year filled with dreams of their future together.

To Khai, Zara was the only "sister" he had truly cared for. Because of this bond, he didn't want to hurt her more than necessary. However, if he didn't clarify their relationship during this visit, Zara might end up being hurt the most.

So, he decided—

"Maeve Riley, I need you to come with me tonight."

Maeve stopped in her tracks, turning around with a puzzled look. "Hang on, mister, I'm not that kind of girl!"

Khai chuckled, "What are you thinking? Do you really believe I'd be interested in someone as short as you?"

"I'm short?!" Maeve rolled her eyes in disdain. "I'm at least 5'3", and with the right guy, it's a perfect height difference. Unlike you, who's so tall all you can see is dandruff!"

Khai had never met someone who disliked tall people before, and her words brought a rare amused smile to his usually stoic face.

"You mentioned you only offer your talents. What talents do you have?"

Maeve straightened up confidently, "Talents? I've got plenty—singing, dancing, handling kids, self-defense, English, Japanese, Korean, French, advanced English, computer skills, public speaking perfection, pastry chef, accounting, firefighter certification, childcare expertise, and a five-star household management credential. If I listed them all, it would take ages."

Khai was impressed by her capabilities and felt a pang of guilt. If he had kept her by his side after their past encounter, would she have had to work so hard?

Khai's long lashes lowered slightly, and he pressed his lips into a firm line. "Alright, I'll pay for your time."

Khai elegantly tore a check from his book and handed it to her. "I only need you for ten minutes tonight to help me record a video. Once we're finished, the check is yours, with no limit on the amount."

He figured she had pursued all those certifications due to financial necessity, so he concocted this opportunity to give her money without hurting her pride.

He expected Maeve to politely refuse, but to his surprise—

"Sorry, mister, I must’ve been sleepwalking. Let me rephrase that." She cleared her throat and then flashed a dazzling smile. "Sure thing, mister. What kind of video do you need? As long as it’s not anything dodgy, I'm in."

Her coy, sweet voice made Khai's self-control falter.

He frowned slightly, trying to dispel inappropriate thoughts from his mind. "Don't worry, I only need a shot of your back."

The task seemed simple enough, and with such a lucrative offer, Maeve had no inclination to question why Khai needed this unusual video.

Regardless of the reason, she was only interested in the money.

"Alright, where should we go to film?"

Felipe Lewis, who had been observing the conversation nearby like an audience at a live drama, finally snapped out of his stupor to fulfill his duties.

"Khai, I studied cinematography in college. Let me handle it!"

Realizing that filming single-handedly would be awkward, Khai agreed. "Alright." With that single word, he acknowledged Felipe's usefulness.

Felipe felt an exhilarating thrill. How lucky was he to get to shoot a romantic video for the typically aloof Khai Howell?

"The video should keep her identity under wraps. I don't want the Wests to find out and cause her trouble," Khai instructed.

Felipe understood immediately—this was all to make Zara reconsider her pursuit.

"Got it. Please, Khai, and Miss Riley, head to the lounge. It's quieter, making it easier to pose."

"Pose?" Maeve asked, puzzled.

Felipe quickly explained, "Miss Riley, this video aims to deter a persistent admirer. So, you need to make it look like you and Khai are close."

Felipe gestured, instructing them, "You're supposed to be a couple, so standing so far apart won't work. Yes, get closer, wrap your arms around his waist, and lean into him..."

Maeve hesitated, "Isn't that too intimate?"

Felipe swiftly drew Maeve aside, painting Khai as the victim of an overly obsessed admirer. As an executive assistant, Felipe's persuasive storytelling quickly swayed Maeve to sympathize with Khai.

Outraged, she exclaimed, "Seriously? People do that?"

"Yes, absolutely shameless. So, to make her give up, you need to act close to Khai, maybe even make her jealous enough to walk away."

"Got it, leave it to me!"

Revitalized, Maeve returned to Khai's side, slipping effortlessly into her role.

"Ready when you are," she announced.

Felipe signaled with an "ok" gesture and hit record on his phone, saying, "Action."

At his cue, Maeve threw her arms around Khai, laughing playfully as she nestled into his embrace.

Her height was just right for pressing against the warmth of his chest. He smelled incredible, an intoxicating scent. She tried to calm her racing heart as her soft hands encircled his waist, feeling his toned abs beneath her touch.

The intense male presence almost took her breath away, but Khai seemed even more affected.

As she pressed herself to him, he felt a softness he had never known.

Maeve's fragrance was like a potent allure, making his dark eyes deepen, almost spilling over like ink.

He reflexively wrapped his arm around her slim waist. His white shirt absorbed her warm breath, heating his skin beneath it...

Felipe worked diligently behind the camera, capturing a cinematic scene with precision. The couple, both strikingly attractive, appeared as though they had stepped straight out of a film, guided by his professional direction. In his quest for perfection, he called out excitedly, "Khai, you're supposed to be a couple! Holding her isn't enough—try to show some emotion."

"Maybe you don't know this since you've never dated," he added, "but why don't you take my direction? Lean in closer, and let me capture a few angles. I promise it'll turn out intimate and thrilling."

Khai Howell, inexperienced in romance, followed the advice. His lips grazed dangerously close to Maeve Riley's ear before landing on her neck. She felt his breath against her skin, making her shoulders tingle and her cheeks flush.

"Hey, that tickles," Maeve giggled nervously, shifting slightly, which sparked a reaction from Khai, already at his limit. His gaze clouded with desire as he softly whispered, "Stay still."

As he spoke, his lips barely brushed her smooth shoulder, sending shivers through her. "Alright, alright, I won't move," she relented, "but can we hurry this up? I'm on a tight schedule."

Her urgency grated on Khai slightly. How could she think of anything else while he was holding her, even if it was only for show? As a mild reprimand, he playfully nipped at her exposed shoulder—not enough to hurt, but enough to feel like a soft kiss.

Maeve squirmed, trying to push him away, but he held her tighter. One arm wrapped around her waist, while the other gently cupped her head. "Behave," he murmured, "we haven't hit the ten-minute mark yet."

She suspected he was using this as a pretext to misbehave. Enveloped in his embrace, her mind was racing, and her face felt hot against his chest. She anxiously counted down the seconds.

As soon as the time was up, she lightly punched his shoulder, exclaiming, "Time's up! Let go!"

Khai had never imagined that holding a woman could feel like this. The experience was so alluring that he hesitated to release her. If this woman indeed entered his life for good, he wouldn't mind making her a significant part of it.

Seeing his reluctance to let go, Maeve sprang away in frustration, "You liar! You promised ten minutes, and you overdid it!"

Faced with her indignant accusation, Khai watched her animated expression with a faint smile. His throat moved involuntarily, wanting to say something, but his usually sharp mind was in disarray.

His intense gaze made her even more flustered. "I'm leaving, Khai Howell!" Maeve declared, her voice holding a hint of a warning, "If you follow me, I'll bite you every time I see you!"

Her fierce demeanor reminded Khai of a feisty, ruffled kitten. Maeve stormed off without a backward glance. It wasn't until she'd slammed the door that she realized she had forgotten the check!

This oversight almost made her explode with frustration.

Just then, her phone rang.

"Maeve! Are you coming to work or not?"

"Mr. Lewis, I'm stuck in traffic, but I'll be there soon!" Maeve quickly assured, apologizing profusely until her boss's anger subsided.

With her mind focused on making money, she dashed into the subway station, hurrying to her next engagement.

In a dimly lit bar, Khai stood elegantly, wiping his lips with his thumb, still feeling the lingering essence of her presence. Everything that had happened tonight felt surreal, like an untouchable dream to him.

Each encounter with her left him feeling both exasperated and captivated. He found himself wanting to win this wildcat and understand her.

Nearby, Felipe had quickly edited the footage into a short video. Even without music, it was the kind of clip that could easily go viral. He handed the phone to Khai, apologizing, "I haven't filmed in a while, so I'm a bit rusty. I could have focused more on capturing Maeve's hand around your waist to enhance the emotional depth."

Khai glanced at the video, feeling a rush of heat. He wanted to watch it again but restrained himself, maintaining his composure as he casually said, "It's fine. You've done well. Your salary will double next month."

Felipe was moved almost to tears. "Thank you, Khai! I promise to work even harder and meet your expectations in every way."

Khai, slightly irked by his emotional outburst, commanded, "That's enough! Find out everything about Maeve Riley and have it in my inbox by tonight."

Felipe suppressed a groan and went back to his task, knowing he had to quickly gather all the details about Maeve Riley.

After Felipe left, Khai captured a screenshot from the video—one of him nuzzled against her neck—and sent it to someone named Harper. Although he intended to send the full video, he held back. Such a suggestive clip was for his eyes only.

Having sent the image, he blocked Harper, deciding not to waste any more time on another woman.

In an upscale lounge, a woman in an elegant Victorian-style dress was adjusting her appearance in the mirror. Her poised and graceful demeanor was that of a refined young lady. However, when her phone buzzed, her gentle facade was replaced by jealousy and rage.

In her chat with Khai, an intimate photo of him with a woman captured her attention. She recognized him instantly—it was Khai Howell, the man she had admired for years. They were supposed to discuss the next steps in their engagement today.

So what was this? Sending her a picture of himself with someone else? What did this mean?