The penthouse was alive with laughter and the clink of glasses when Nala and I stepped through the door. The late-afternoon sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the open-plan living room in warm gold. The city skyline glittered beyond. The air smelled of vanilla and fresh-baked cake—Jasmine's doing, no doubt. It had to be. She really was a good cook.

Jasmine, Kim, and Tessa were already at the dining table, a massive slab of black marble that could seat twelve. A three-tiered chocolate cake sat in the center, frosted with glossy ganache, topped with edible gold flakes and a single sparkler fizzing away. The girls spotted us and erupted.

Clap. Clap. Clap. Jasmine led, her grin wide, hands high. Kim and Tessa joined in, whooping like we'd just won the Super Bowl.

"CEO Nolin in the house!" Kim shouted, pumping a fist.

Tessa stood on her chair, mock-bowing. "All hail the queen!"

Nala laughed, cheeks pink, and raised her hands like she was accepting an Oscar. "Okay, okay, enough! You're gonna make me cry."

"Too late!" Jasmine teased, pointing at Nala's glassy eyes.

The table was set for celebration—crystal flutes, chilled prosecco, a stack of gold-rimmed plates. Nala moved to the cake, picking up the silver knife. "Ready?"

"Do it!" Tessa yelled.

Nala sliced clean, the knife gliding through ganache and sponge. I grabbed a confetti cannon from the counter and pulled the string. Pop! Streams of gold and silver foil exploded over the table, catching the light like a disco ball. The girls screamed, clapping harder, foil sticking to their hair.

"Evan, you're insane!" Kim laughed, brushing confetti off her shoulder.

"Only way to celebrate," I said, grinning.

Nala finished cutting, sliding the first slice onto a plate. "Who wants the corner piece? Extra frosting."

"Me!" Jasmine and Tessa said in unison.

The questions started the second everyone had cake.

"So, spill," Kim said, fork hovering. "How'd you smoke those other two? Marcus is a tank, and Raj is, like, a genius. At least that's what Evan said."

Nala leaned back, prosecco in hand. "Marcus was easy. He's all ops, no vision. I just showed the board what happens if we keep playing defense—competitors eat us alive in eighteen months. Raj? He's brilliant, but he can't sell a budget to save his life. I had numbers. Roadmaps. Signed letters. They couldn't argue with that."

Tessa leaned in. "And the spin-out? Four hundred million? Girl, you're a savage."

Nala shrugged, but her smile was proud. "Had to go big."

Jasmine raised her glass. "To Nala—our own badass CEO!"

"Cheers!" we all shouted, glasses clinking.

I slipped away to the kitchen, leaving them to their gossip. The kitchen was a chef's wet dream—matte-black cabinets, a Sub-Zero fridge the size of a car, and a marble island big enough to land a helicopter. I grabbed the cake, sliced it into perfect wedges, and plated them with a drizzle of raspberry coulis I found in the fridge. The girls' laughter floated in, warm and easy. I balanced the plates on a tray, carried them back, and set them down.

"Service with a smile," I said, sliding into my chair.

Nala winked. "You're hired."

I reached for my pack of cigarettes, pulled one out, and lit it. The first drag was smooth, smoke curling toward the ceiling. I leaned back, watching them—Jasmine licking frosting off her thumb, Kim mid-story, Tessa throwing her head back in laughter, Nala glowing like she'd swallowed the sun. My chest felt full, heavy in the best way. This. Putting smiles on their faces, building something real—it was the first time in my life I felt like I was doing something. Not just surviving. Not just grinding. Mattering.

A knock at the door broke the moment. I stood, cigarette dangling. "Hold that thought."

I crossed the living room, opened the door. Minne stood there, petite in a red dress that hugged her frame, crimson hair catching the hallway light. She clutched a small purse, eyes down.

"Hey, Minne," I said, stepping aside. "Come in. Did you do… what I asked?"

"Yes, I did." She hesitated. "Sorry I took so long to come home."

"It's fine. It's your day off, remember? Come on, we just cut cake. Join us."

Minne's voice was flat, robotic. "You wouldn't want me beside you. Just a piece of maid."

I frowned, grabbed her shoulders gently, and guided her toward the kitchen. "Nope. Not hearing that. Come on."

Jasmine and Kim spotted her, waved. "Minne! Get in here!" Jasmine called.

I pulled out my chair. "Here, eat my plate. I just lit a cigarette. Gotta lose weight, anyway."

Minne shook her head, hands clasped. "No. I can't. I'm not worth eating a cake this expensive."

I picked up my fork, sliced a perfect bite of chocolate sponge and ganache. "Open your mouth."

╭───────────╮

EVENT

===============

Minne's Interest +5

╰───────────╯

She froze, lips sealed.

"Minne," I said, firmer. "Open."

Her lips parted, shy. I slid the fork in. She chewed, covering her mouth with her hand, eyes wide.

╭───────────╮

WOMEN - INTERACTIONS

===============

Jasmine: Interest: 40 / 60★★

Kayla: Interest: 5 / 20

Tessa: Interest: 27 / 40★★

Kim: Interest: 30 / 40★★

Delilah: Interest: 37 / 40★★

Cora: Interest: 100 / 100★★★★★

Mendy: Interest: 6/20

Nala: Interest: 66/80

Penelope: Interest: 3/20

Minne: Interest: 6/20

===============

Progress:

★☆☆☆☆ - 20 Interest: Milestone reward

★★☆☆☆ - 40 Interest: Milestone reward

★★★☆☆ - 60 Interest: Milestone reward

★★★★☆ - 80 Interest: Milestone reward

★★★★★ -100 Interest: Milestone reward

===============

Select a woman to track progress.

╰───────────╯

"How is it?" I asked, smiling.

She swallowed, voice small. "It's good, Master."

"Just Evan, please."

"I can't." Her eyes dropped. "I'd like to call you Master, please."

I shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Minne straightened. "I'll wear my outfit and begin cleaning."

"No cleaning today," I said, tapping ash into the tray. "We're practicing. Everyone in this room."

Jasmine raised a brow, fork paused. "What kind of practice?"

I grinned, leaning forward. "You'll see."

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

I stood in the center of the master bedroom, the massive mirror reflecting five versions of us that looked like they'd stepped out of some fever-dream anime panel. The chandeliers were dialed low, casting everything in a warm, honeyed glow that made skin look softer and shadows deeper. The king-sized bed behind us was a war zone of empty cosplay boxes and crumpled tissue paper. The carpet was plush under my bare feet, and the air conditioning hummed quietly, keeping the room cool despite the heat building from all of us standing so close.

Jasmine was first in line, hips cocked like she was ready to walk a runway, one hand resting on her waist like she owned the room and everyone in it. She wore a crimson micro-bikini top—two tiny triangles of glossy satin held together by thin gold chains that draped across her collarbones and dipped teasingly between her full breasts, the metal cool against her skin. The matching thong sat low on her hips, a single silver ring at the front connecting the front and back panels, leaving the sides of her hips completely bare. A sheer red cape, almost see-through, flowed from her shoulders down to mid-thigh, fluttering with every breath she took. Thigh-high fishnet stockings clung to her legs, ending in glossy black platform heels that added four inches to her already lethal frame. Her hair was teased into wild, fiery waves that framed her face, a pair of curved devil horns perched on top like a crown. She looked like a succubus who'd decided lingerie was formal wear and the world was her playground.

"Where did you even get these?" she asked, turning slowly to check her ass in the mirror, the cape lifting just enough to flash the curve of her cheek.

I grinned, leaning against the bedpost, my cape brushing the floor. "After Nala won, I called Minne. Told her to raid the stores that sold cosplay stuff."

Jasmine laughed, running a hand down the sheer fabric of her cape, fingers tracing the gold chains. "This is a nice surprise. Like, really nice. I could get used to this kind of celebration."

Next to her, Kim struck a pose, one leg up on the ottoman, her body angled to show off every line. She wore a black latex bralette with neon pink piping that glowed faintly in the low light, cut so high it was more suggestion than coverage, the material stretching tight across her chest. A matching thong peeked above a pleated micro-skirt in electric pink, the skirt so short it barely covered anything, flaring out with every movement. Black arm warmers with glowing LED circuits wrapped her arms from wrist to elbow, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. A utility belt hung low on her hips, holding tiny prop blades that caught the light. Her hair was in high pigtails, streaked with hot pink, and a glowing choker pulsed around her throat like a heartbeat monitor. She spun a plastic dagger on her finger, the blade catching the chandelier light.

"Cyber-ninja realness," she said, grinning wide, her teeth flashing. "I feel like I could hack a mainframe or slice someone's throat. Maybe both."

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