Rebate King: Every Beauty I Spoil Makes Me a Billionaire

Meanwhile, Stan watched as Sophie continued typing and sending messages faster than he could reply to the previous ones. One notification after another appeared on the screen, leaving him barely enough time to read them before a new message arrived.

Sophie: [It’s been seven whole hours since I saw you.]

Sophie: [Seven hours is actually a very long time. 😩]

Sophie: [Earlier, I was lying on the couch where I made you eat dinner yesterday.]

Sophie: [I kept looking at the spot where you were sitting and wishing you were still here. 🥺]

Sophie: [It’s honestly ridiculous how much I miss you already.]

Sophie: [Now I’m sitted on the balcony, looking down the road and hoping to see you coming back to me... so please come, Stan. ❤️]

Sophie: [Also...]

Sophie: [I cooked again. 🍳]

Sophie: [I know I cooked yesterday too.]

Sophie: [But I had an entire evening to myself and needed something to do with my hands. 🤲]

Sophie: [It’s pasta.]

Sophie: [Properly made pasta.]

Sophie: [With the good cheese. 🧀✨]

Sophie: [The expensive kind.]

Sophie: [And I want to hear everything.]

Sophie: [The whole night.]

Sophie: [Every detail.]

Sophie: [I want to sit with you and make you tell me all the parts you conveniently left out of your messages. 👀]

Sophie: [Especially those parts.]

Sophie: [Please come. 💕]

He sat in the parked car for a moment, phone in hand, the glow of a nearby streetlamp spilling across the dashboard in a soft amber line.

The hospital. The abandoned building. The gangsters in handcuffs and their hostile stares.

The unconscious woman lying in the ICU.

All of it lingered in his chest as a quiet, accumulated weight. Not heavy enough to burden him. Just heavy enough to make the thought of a warm meal, a quiet apartment, and a girl who had spent the evening missing him sound exactly like what he needed.

Stan: [On my way.]

The response arrived instantly.

Sophie: [🥺💕💕💕]

Sophie: [I’ll warm the pasta when you’re five minutes out]

Sophie: [Drive safe]

Sophie: [And don’t get pulled into any more international incidents on the way]

Stan: [No promises.]

Sophie: [STAN 😤]

Sophie: [I swear to God, stop joking about things that could get you killed 😭]

Sophie: [Please I’m serious...]

Sophie: [Just come home to me, love 💗]

The word landed before he could stop it.

’Home huh?’

She’d said it casually. Like it was already a thing.

Like the small studio at the top of Crown Jewel Tower had quietly become a place he was expected to return to.

A place where someone waited for him. A place where someone worried when he was late. A place where someone cooked too much food because she didn’t know what else to do while she missed him.

He stared at the message a little longer than necessary.

’Well she’s right, it’s home, that’s what it is to me now...’

Then he set the phone in the cup holder, pulled away from the curb, and pointed the Huracán toward Four Seasons Garden.

The mantra didn’t even bother whispering this time.

It had given up days ago.

The engine settled into a low, content purr as he drove through the city. Streetlights swept across the windshield. Towers of glass and steel drifted past in a blur of reflected gold.

And somewhere above those illuminated streets, in a building he had once bought on a whim, a girl in soft clothes was reheating pasta and counting the minutes until he arrived.

The thought drew a faint smile from him.

It wasn’t a bad way to end a difficult day.

In fact, he was beginning to suspect it might be the best way.

The city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white as Stan guided the Huracán through the familiar streets toward Four Seasons Garden.

The low rumble of the engine felt soothing now, a steady backdrop to the lingering adrenaline that still hummed faintly in his veins.

By the time he turned into the private underground parking of Crown Jewel Tower, the tension in his shoulders had begun to ease.

He slid the car into his usual spot, killed the engine, and stepped out. The cool night air brushed against his skin as he closed the door with a soft thud.

And there she was.

Sophie stood just a few meters away, leaning lightly against a concrete pillar near the elevator lobby, waiting for him under the soft glow of the parking lot lights.

She wore a delicate, silky champagne-colored nightgown that barely reached mid-thigh. The thin fabric was almost translucent in the low lighting, clinging shamelessly to every curve of her body like a second skin.

It accentuated the full, heavy swell of her breasts, the deep valley of her cleavage on full display as the gown dipped low between them.

Her nipples, already slightly hardened from the cool air, pressed visibly against the sheer material.

The gown hugged her narrow waist before flaring out over her wide, shapely hips and thick, toned thighs.

Every breath she took made the silk shift and shimmer, highlighting the soft, feminine outline of her body, the gentle dip of her navel, the smooth flare of her hips, and the way her ass filled out the back of the gown with a perfect, rounded firmness.

She looked breathtaking. Sensual. Utterly inviting.

Stan couldn’t help but gulp.

”You’re already waiting at the parking lot,” he said with a teasing smirk as he approached. ”That’s a little creepy, you know that?”

Sophie ignored his tease completely. She pushed off the pillar and walked straight toward him, her feet silent on the cool floor.

Without a word, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Her body melted against his.

The soft, warm fullness of her breasts squished firmly against his chest, the thin nightgown offering almost no barrier.

He could feel their plush weight, the way they yielded and molded perfectly to him, her hardened nipples tracing teasing lines across his shirt.

She hugged him so tightly that every inch of her front pressed flush against his, her soft stomach, the curve of her hips, and the heat radiating from between her thighs.

”Mmm...” Sophie sighed contentedly, burying her face in his neck.

”Uhm... your breasts,” Stan said with a deliberate cough, trying to keep his voice light even as his hands instinctively settled on her waist. ”You’re really not playing fair tonight.”