The Master’s Gambit

The next morning, the street outside "Valentine’s Kitchen & Blooms" was blocked by four black SUVs. Neighbors peeked through their curtains as a dozen men in earpieces secured the perimeter. Frost didn't just visit; he occupied the space. He had paid for every table, every chair, and every petal in the shop just to ensure they were alone.

Frost sat in a cramped wooden chair that felt beneath him, his tailored suit a sharp contrast to the smell of flour and jasmine. When the kitchen door swung open, Luna marched out, a tray in her hand and fire in her eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me," she snapped, slamming a cup of black coffee onto his table. "You rented the whole shop? You’re so desperate for attention you have to buy a crowd?"

"Sit down, Luna," Frost said, his voice a quiet, lethal chill. He didn't look at the coffee. He didn't blink. "I don’t play games with checks anymore. I play with real assets."

He slid a legal folder across the flour-dusted table. "This is a notice of zoning violations and outstanding high-interest high-street loans. Your mother’s shop—her 'only hope'—is sitting on a mountain of debt I just purchased. I own the dirt under your feet, the roof over your head, and the stove in that kitchen."

Luna’s face went pale. The tray in her hand trembled. "You... you wouldn't."

"I would," Frost whispered, leaning in. "But I’m offering a trade. I need a new personal security detail and an assistant secretary. Someone with 'guts.' Someone to follow me twenty-four hours a day and ensure my world remains as perfect as I am."

Luna’s lip curled in disgust. "You want me to be your lapdog? To protect a man I can't stand?"

"I want you to protect your mother's life's work," Frost countered. "Refuse, and the bulldozers are here by sunset."

The silence stretched, thick with hatred. Luna looked at the photos of the shop in the folder, then back at the monster in the suit.

"Fine," she spat, leaning over the table until she was inches from his cold face. "I'll do it. But here’s my demand: double the salary for my mother's medical bills, and I get weekends off to be away from your miserable face. Take it or leave it, 'Highness'."

Frost felt a surge of dark triumph. "Agreed."

He watched her stomp back into the kitchen to tell her mother. A heartless smirk touched his lips. He didn't want an assistant; he wanted a victim. He would watch her every move, wait for the tiniest mistake—a late arrival, a typo, a blink—and then he would fire her, crush the shop, and reclaim the pride she had kicked out of him.

With his mother gone for a year, Frost had found the perfect way to spend his time: breaking the unbreakable.

At exactly 5:00 AM, a silent black sedan idling outside the flower shop cut through the morning mist. Luna was whisked away from the smell of yeast and jasmine and thrust into the cold, vaulted ceilings of the Vane Mansion.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***