In December, the mornings in Los Angeles were a bit chilly. Matthew, dressed in a long athletic suit, ran along the tree-lined path in the front garden. He slowed down from a steady run to a brisk walk. He had just completed two laps around the estate, a habit he had maintained for years. As long as his work schedule wasn't too tight, he would persist with his morning runs.
The distance he ran wasn't particularly long, meticulously planned by fitness experts according to his physical condition. According to Nebula, excessive running could lead to water accumulation in the knees for countless people.
Emerging from the woods, Matthew gradually relaxed, heading back to the villa. He took the towel handed to him by the butler to wipe the sweat off his face. Seeing that it was still early, he didn't return to the master bedroom on the second floor. Instead, he took a shower and changed clothes in the downstairs bathroom.
Though not his girlfriend, and without emotional ties, Matthew was considerate of the woman's feelings. They had stayed up late last night, and Miranda Kerr would surely be in deep sleep at this time. Returning to the master bedroom might disturb her rest.
Returning to the living room, the butler approached to remind him, "There are a lot of reporters at the gate, they've been waiting since last night."
"I know." Matthew nodded, "They followed my car back."
He had noticed last night when returning from the Hilton Hotel. Several paparazzi saw a woman get into his car and followed him back.
This wasn't the first time such a thing had happened, and Matthew didn't care. It was just another piece of gossip.
Suddenly, the phone on the coffee table beeped with a text message alert.
Matthew picked up the phone, sat on the sofa, and opened the message. It was from Elena Boyar.
"Awake? Still sleeping with the model?"
Seeing this message, Matthew immediately realized that photos of him and Miranda Kerr had likely already spread, at least online.
"Just finished my morning run." He quickly replied, "You're really well-informed."
Elena Boyar didn't send another text but called him directly.
Matthew answered, "What's up?"
"Yeah," Elena Boyar responded, "You were probably followed by a lot of paparazzi when you left the Hilton Hotel last night, right?"
"Yes." Matthew had indeed seen them.
Elena Boyar's voice came through the phone again, "The model with you, let me think... yes, the report says her name is Miranda Kerr. Be careful. Around nine o'clock last night, someone tipped off several gossip media outlets, including TMZ, saying you have a new romance. There should be quite a few reporters outside your house, right?"
Matthew understood her point, "Yes, probably twenty or thirty." He paused and said, "Thank you, Elena."
Elena Boyar laughed, "No problem. A model trying to use you to gain fame isn't a big deal. It's work time, bye, Matthew."
"Goodbye."
Matthew put away his phone, sat there, and thought briefly. He suspected that what Elena Boyar had mentioned might be related to Miranda Kerr.
Miranda Kerr approached him actively and was very proactive, clearly with an agenda. As for her claim of being a fan, Matthew didn't believe it at all.
Footsteps sounded suddenly, and Matthew turned his head to see Miranda Kerr coming downstairs to the living room. She had changed into the casual clothes he had prepared, a white shirt and jeans, looking like a sweet girl-next-door. However, her walking seemed a bit awkward, perhaps a leftover effect from their wild night.
"Good morning, Kerr." Matthew greeted her, and Miranda Kerr slowly walked over, "Good morning, Matthew."
She sat on the sofa opposite Matthew. He glanced at her and said, "I ripped your evening dress last night, so I had this outfit prepared for you. Does it fit?"
"Perfectly," Miranda Kerr smiled, dimples showing, "It's like it was tailored for me."
Despite her words, her mind was elsewhere. Matthew Horner's reputation as a playboy seemed well-founded. From his skillful techniques last night to the women's clothes readily available at his house, it all confirmed this.
How should she handle such a man? She couldn't help but look out the huge floor-to-ceiling window behind Matthew.
Earlier, after getting up and washing in the master bedroom on the second floor, she had stood by the front and back windows, observing. This mansion was enormous, located in a prime spot, seemingly overlooking all of Los Angeles. Even in Beverly Hills, it was probably a top-tier luxury estate.
How much was it worth? Probably forty to fifty million dollars?
Typically, someone who could buy such a mansion must be worth several times its value. So, what was Matthew Horner's net worth?
Miranda Kerr didn't guess because the answer was obvious.
"Are you hungry?" Matthew stood up, gentle and considerate, "I'll have the kitchen prepare breakfast. Do you have any dietary restrictions? I have a women's nutrition breakfast plan made by a nutrition expert. Want to try it?"
"Sure," Miranda Kerr said sweetly.
Matthew left the living room, heading towards the dining area. Miranda Kerr stared at his back, lost in thought.
In reality, she had woken up early. Years of rigorous professional modeling and fitness training had given her great stamina and resilience. She quickly recovered from last night's wild battle. Looking out from the master bedroom window, she had seen a lot and thought a lot.
If she could secure Matthew Horner, how much could she gain?
This thought had occupied her mind since the morning, growing stronger and more enticing.
Combining last night's thoughts and her long-standing ambition and efforts, no one she had met so far was more suitable for her future needs than Matthew Horner.
Money could guarantee a comfortable or even top-tier life. Fame could easily spread her name across America and the world, greatly increasing her chances of securing a Victoria's Secret contract. A man with such a physique and looks would be a great pride to show off, envied by all women. And the ability to satisfy all her desires and greed... she had never felt that before.
Miranda Kerr crossed her hands over her legs, striking an elegant pose as if she were already the hostess—since she was here, why not try to become the mistress? This could save her at least ten years of hard work.
For a model whose career relied on youth, how many decades could she afford to waste?
"Kerr..."
Matthew's voice brought her back. She smiled sweetly, "Matthew."
"Come to the dining room," Matthew invited.
Miranda Kerr stood up, walked over to him, and naturally linked her arm with his.
As a model who had changed clothes in an open dressing room, she had long since shed any shyness.
Matthew entered the dining room, pulled out a chair for her, and said, "Sit anywhere, make yourself at home."
Once she was seated, he took a seat opposite her.
"Do you usually eat breakfast alone?" Miranda Kerr asked deliberately.
"Yes," Matthew shrugged slightly, "I've been alone for years."
"I hate eating breakfast alone," Miranda Kerr clearly misunderstood, "There's no one to talk to."
Her dimples showed again, "Now it feels great, having someone care for me, prepare clothes for me, make breakfast, and eat with me. It's so warm."
Matthew smiled, "I don't have that much ability. Kerr, it was the servants who prepared the clothes for you, and the chef who made breakfast."
Miranda Kerr wrinkled her nose, "You're such a spoilsport." She then asked, "Are you working today? How about showing me around Los Angeles?"
"Today?" Matthew thought of Elena Boyar's phone call, "I don't have time today. I need to go to the agency. There's a lot of work waiting for me."
He didn't mind Miranda Kerr using him to create news for publicity, as he had gained substantial benefits too. But he wasn't about to abandon his work to help her with publicity.
Miranda Kerr, as naive and lovely as last night, looked charming and pretty, "The Victoria's Secret show is over, and I'm not taking any new jobs until after the New Year. I want to take a break. I have nothing to do today. Can I go with you to the agency?"
Before Matthew could respond, she quickly added, "I just want to be close to you. I promise I won't be a bother. I'll just find a place to sit and wait for you."
Matthew thought about it. Miranda Kerr, in her early twenties, fit his aesthetic, and with excellent physical stamina and flexibility, could stay a few more nights.
"Hmm..." He pondered for a moment, "Okay. After breakfast, we'll go to Burbank. There's a recreation room at the Angel Agency where you can play video games or billiards. I'll probably be busy all day."
Miranda Kerr quickly replied, "It's okay, I'll wait for you." She looked at Matthew, her eyes seemingly sparkling, "As long as I can be close to you, I can wait forever."
After breakfast, Matthew took Miranda Kerr out of the estate. As the Mercedes-Benz car left the gate, countless flashbulbs went off. While Matthew was on the phone with Helen Herman, Miranda Kerr turned towards the window, her face facing the cameras outside to ensure they got a clear shot.
This move was brief and subtle, unnoticed by most, but Matthew saw it. He didn't say anything, just frowned slightly and told the driver to head to Burbank.
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