Rebate King: Every Beauty I Spoil Makes Me a Billionaire

Fourteen messages. Three missed calls. One voicemail.

Stan’s thumb hovered over the thread for a moment.

Sacha was, at twenty-two, a person of very specific communicational economy. She said what she meant. She said it once. She did not chase her younger brother across a text thread unless something had happened that she had decided, on her own, warranted the chase.

Stan had told her before he left that he might be off-grid for up to ten days. She had accepted it and it had been three.

Which meant fourteen messages was not the volume of a worried sister. It was the volume of an older sister who had decided to worry, early, and on principle, and without waiting for the deadline to arrive. She had never thought that having her younger brother off the grid for a few days could make her this anxious.

Stan felt the small, familiar pull in his chest that only Sacha could produce.

He tapped the thread.

Sis Sacha: [Stan.]

[Hey. Just checking in.]

[Weekend? Oh, you’re already unreachable...]

[Not urgent. Wanted to talk about something.]

[Work time. Call me when you’re back on signal.]

[Day two. Still nothing.]

[I know you said ten. I’m still allowed to check.]

[I’m your older sister. I get to worry early.]

[Stan.]

[One word is fine.]

His thumb hovered over the reply field for a moment.

Beside him, Camilla shifted her weight in her seat, quiet as she watched the coastal light pass beyond the window. She said nothing. It was, he thought, one of her better qualities. She understood that silence, when offered at the right moment, could itself be a kindness.

He tapped the call icon.

The line did not finish ringing.

”Stan?” Her voice was small and tight all at once.

”I’m here,” he said softly. ”I’m okay.”

A long, held breath escaped from the other end of the line.

”It’s only been three days.”

”I know.”

”I know I said I wouldn’t do this before ten.”

”It’s understandable,” Stan replied casually, a faint smile touching his lips. ”You don’t have to explain yourself. I’d worry too if I was in your position.”

His expression softened as he spoke.

Only he knew how true those words were.

If their positions had been reversed, he would’ve worried just as much, perhaps even more.

For a brief moment, he wondered what Sacha would think if she had seen him only a few hours ago. Pale and bloodied, barely standing, with his life hanging by a thread. What would Amelia think? Or Xenia? The girls would probably lose their minds if they ever saw him in such a condition.

Sacha, on the other hand, would probably fly halfway across the world just to hit him over the head before hugging him.

The thought made him chuckle inwardly.

Then his mind drifted back to the battle beneath the Antarctic ice.

The overwhelming pressure. The injuries. The taste of blood lingering in his mouth. And finally, the werewolves.

His eyes darkened almost imperceptibly.

Remembering their leader caused a familiar heat to stir within his chest. Rage boiled through him once more, cold and sharp. If circumstances had been even slightly different, things could have ended very badly that day.

Then, just as suddenly, the memory shifted.

He remembered Camilla standing before him.

He remembered watching her beat the absolute living shit out of the Werewolf leader with an expressionless face and all the casual brutality of someone disciplining an unruly child.

The image was so absurdly satisfying that his anger melted away almost immediately.

A smile slowly spread across his face.

’Payback is so sweet.’

He hadn’t even needed to lift a finger in the end. Gifting her things in exchange for her services while collecting rebates from the System was a brilliant arrangement, if he did say so himself. Everybody won. Well... everybody except the werewolf.

He was beginning to suspect that hiring an ancient vampire with expensive tastes to solve his problems might be one of the better investments he had ever made.

Still, watching Camilla enthusiastically beat the absolute living shit out of the Werewolf leader after he promised her the Spirit Pool was an oddly satisfying sight. The fact that she had done it for the promised payment hardly mattered in the end. The results spoke for themselves.

A small smile found its way onto his face.

’It was a worthwhile investment.’

He leaned back slightly in his seat, the smile lingering on his face.

He was home now. He was alive. His sister was worrying over him from half a world away, and beside him sat an ancient vampire who would happily tear a powerful werewolf apart for the right price.

Life was strange sometimes. He found that he didn’t particularly mind.

Anyways, Sacha was still on the phone. He listened as she exhaled, uneven, part relief, part the small embarrassed recognition of a person who had, in her own head, already lost the argument she had been rehearsing.

”Where are you?”

”On the way home from the airport. Just landed.”

”Inksea?”

”Inksea.”

”You came back early.”

”Wrapped up faster than I thought.”

A small pause followed.

”What did you want to talk to me about?” he asked, because he had not forgotten that she had started the thread with a reason.

”It can wait.”

”Sacha.”

”It can wait, Stan. Not a phone thing. A day or two.”

”You sure?”

”I’m sure. Sleep. Eat. Call me tomorrow. And I mean actually call, not one of your two-word replies.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

”I will.”

”Love you, bro.”

”Love you too, sis.”

The line went quiet.

He held the phone against his ear for a moment longer than the call required before finally lowering it. He didn’t put it away.

The others were waiting. Sacha was not the only person he had given the ten-day window to. She was merely the first to disregard it entirely. Somehow, that didn’t surprise him in the slightest.

He had a feeling she wouldn’t be the last.

After all, there were only so many people in his life willing to patiently wait ten days without hearing from him. Most of them had probably spent the last three wondering whether he was injured, unconscious, or simply being himself.

Knowing his luck, at least one of them had probably already prepared a lecture.

He suddenly wasn’t looking forward to checking the rest of his messages nearly as much as he had been a few minutes ago.