Rebate King: Every Beauty I Spoil Makes Me a Billionaire

”Good. Want me to come over tomorrow?” She asked softly...

He could hear the anticipation and eagerness in that voice. His chest did the same small, quiet turn it had done for Mia.

”I’d like that.”

Truthfully, he wasn’t opposed to all of them coming tomorrow.

In fact, it might be better that way.

The secret had already outlived its usefulness. Maya and Sophie knew about each other now, and neither had set anything on fire. He still wasn’t entirely sure how that miracle had occurred, but he wasn’t inclined to question it too closely.

The others, however, were still in the dark.

Sooner or later, that conversation was going to happen.

Preferably sooner. Better to face the storm head-on than let it gather strength in the distance.

Hopefully, they would take it as well as Maya and Sophie had.

’Hopefully.’

”...Good. Don’t die on the way.” He heard her say teasingly

”I won’t.”

”Love you, idiot.”

”Love you.”

~Click~ the call ended...

’Three more names left.’ Stan sighed

Camilla glanced at him before saying softly, ”So new age humans are so weak that even a non-mutant bear is considered frightening. I suppose the strength they derive from those shooting toys will always remain borrowed strength. No matter what they create, it is not true strength.”

Stan was silent for a moment. He thought of the mechas humanity had already begun to develop. They were still in their infancy, but some of the prototypes were already capable of feats that would have seemed impossible only decades ago.

And yet, he found himself unable to disagree with her.

Even if an ordinary human piloted a machine powerful enough to shatter mountains, that power would still belong to the machine. Strip it away, and they would remain ordinary.

It was strength that could be wielded, not strength that could truly be called one’s own.

In that regard, Camilla was right.

The difference between cultivation and technology had never merely been one of power. It was one of ownership. He sighed softly.

Humanity’s path was different from that of cultivators. Whether one was superior to the other remained to be seen.

’Amelia.’ He looked at the name on his screen before giving her a call.

While their relationship was still formal by most standards, Stan was interested in her, and he knew she felt the same way. There was also the matter of the investigation into those impersonating his Sir Streak TikTuk alias that he wanted an update on.

He tapped the call icon. The line did not ring. It picked up before the first ring had even completed, the immediate crispness of a call intercepted by a person whose phone had already been in her hand.

”Stan.” The voice that came was very controlled.

That was what caught him. Amelia did not do controlled. Amelia did composed, the unhurried self-possession of a woman who owned significant shares in a major film studio and had spent a lifetime being the most collected person in every room she walked into. Controlled was the tool she reached for when composed had failed.

”Hey,” he said gently.

One very small breath echoed through the phone as she said, ”You are alive.”

”Yeah.”

”You are in Inksea.”

”Yes, just landed.”

”You are unharmed.”

He hesitated for the briefest of moments before replying. ”Yes I’m unharmed.”

Another small breath. Then the smallest possible crack in the controlled surface, the softer, warmer voice that only ever appeared on private phone lines, and had, over the past several weeks, been appearing more and more often.

”...Good.”

He waited then said softly, ”Amelia.”

”I am processing.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. ”Take your time.”

”You said up to ten days, Stan.”

”I did.”

”It has been three.”

”I know.”

”Vanguard has been on a readiness posture for seventy-two hours.”

”...A readiness posture?”

”At my instruction. We have multiple leads, but nothing substantial yet.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. ”That’s a little early.”

”I am aware.”

A small pause followed. Then the controlled surface finally cracked entirely, giving way to the softer, warmer voice that only ever appeared on private phone lines and had, over the past several weeks, been appearing more and more often.

”...I sent a lot of messages. I know it has only been three days, Stan. I know you said ten. I simply could not help it.”

”I know.”

”Do not think less of me for it.”

”Amelia,” he said softly, ”there isn’t a world where I would.”

Silence greeted his words for several long seconds.

Then, very quietly, so quietly he almost missed it,

”...Welcome back, my hero.” She said in a meek shy voice and then...

Click

The call ended, Stan could feel that she was embarrassed...

Meanwhile at the other end of the line, Amelia remained seated in silence in a room long after the call had ended.

She sat rigidly upright in the high-backed office chair, the tailored lines of her charcoal-grey power suit still perfectly pressed despite the long day.

The fitted jacket hugged the full, heavy curve of her bust, the silk blouse beneath strained just slightly across the deep cleavage that the low V-neck deliberately framed.

A narrow pencil skirt clung to the generous flare of her hips and the soft thickness of her thighs, the fabric stretched taut where it met the edge of the seat.

Even in the dim light of the office that evening, it’s evening at her place because of the the different time line, despite the dim light, the mature, sensual weight of her body was unmistakable, the kind of lush, lived-in fullness that belonged to a Mild...

Slowly, she closed her eyes and pressed the phone gently against her chest as the tension she had been holding onto for the past seventy-two hours quietly left her body.

’He is alive. He is home. He is safe.’

Somehow, those three facts alone felt enough to make the rest of the world seem a little less important. The corners of her lips curved into a small, helpless smile.

As their conversation replayed in her mind, something clicked almost immediately, another problem presented itself.

’Does this mean he’s interested in me now?’ Her eyes slowly opened before narrowing ever so slightly. ’He has to be... right?’

She wasn’t normally this uncertain. Amelia Don had spent her entire life making difficult decisions with absolute confidence. Multi-million dollar investments were easier than this. Negotiating with powerful businessmen was easier than this.

This, however, was terrifying.

’Should I send him an ”I love you” message?’ Her fingers unconsciously tightened around her phone.

’No. That’s still far too sudden. ...Or is this the perfect moment? No, it’s a bad idea, he literally just came back’