As Keith turned around, a sweet fragrance drifted through the air, instantly captivating him. He was stunned by the owner of the enchanting voice.
She looked to be around his age, mid-twenties—with long, hazel-brown hair styled in a simple braid. Strands were tucked neatly behind her left ear, giving her a natural and almost bewitching beauty.
But what truly made her stand out was her graceful elegance. Her small face seemed sculpted by a goddess, each feature meticulously crafted. Her thin, slightly arched eyebrows and sharp, delicate nose were like fine art, while her small cherry-red lips seemed to tempt anyone who dared to look.
She wore a sleek, black Louiseé Vuthón dress paired with red high heels, instantly becoming the center of attention in the crowded space.
All eyes were on her.
"Well? How much for the horse carving?" she repeated, her voice calm but insistent.
The vendor, caught off guard, answered with a smug grin, "Ah, you're a little too late. I sold the vase to that young man over there, and the horse carving was a free gift."
Though he had no obligation, Keith's body responded before he could think—an instinct triggered by the otherworldly woman standing before him.
"Hey, young man… I'm very interested in your horse carving. Could you do me a favor and sell it? Name your price."
Her innocent face and elegant tone were dangerously disarming.
Even Keith found himself mesmerized by her presence, struggling to tear his eyes away.
If Keith hadn't known the true value hidden in the carving, he might have handed it over for free. But now that he understood its worth, there was no way he would sell it below price.
"How much do you think this horse carving is worth?" Keith asked, locking eyes with her.
"Five hundred dollars for your trouble?" she answered with a faint smile.
"Five hundred?" Keith chuckled, shaking his head. "That's far too low."
He suspected she knew more than she let on. Otherwise, why approach him so directly?
"You're quite a shrewd negotiator. Fine, no more games. I'll pay five thousand dollars for this poor craftsmanship. If you're not interested, I'll walk away."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"Five thousand? For that hideous wooden horse? No way!"
"I've hunted for antiques all my life and never earned a dime. And this guy's about to cash out big."
"And the shop owner just gave it to him for free!"
Keith scoffed, silencing the whispers with a single sound.
"Even fifty thousand dollars isn't enough… Miss Valerie."
She froze, eyes wide. "How do you know my name?"
Keith had just used his second charge of his skill, Eye of Apollo, for the day.
Tti-ring.
[Active Skill> Eye Of Apollo]
[Target Acqiured]
[Valerie Sawyer]
[Twenty Three year old sole heir of the Sawyers Group. Specializes in jewelry, antiques and high fashion industries with a total of 300 companies spread across the globe.]
[Net Worth> 780 Million Dollars]
Valerie was shocked. She hadn't expected this ordinary-looking man to know who she was. And his confidence told her he'd uncovered the carving's secret value.
In that moment, Keith became a mystery to her.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Keith Hall."
"Keith Hall? The mastermind behind Pine Cone's genius marketing?" Valerie's eyes sparkled.
"That's me," Keith confirmed.
Valerie smiled faintly, locking eyes with him again.
"Did you get the tip I left at the restaurant?" she asked.
"You're the one tipping thousands daily? Why?" Keith was surprised.
"It was a gift," she said softly, stepping closer. "Your talent's too rare to go unnoticed in some small shop. I want you to work for me. This has to be fate." She smiled warmly. "Are you free tonight? If you are, come with me—I'd like to take you up on that offer."
'A business proposal...' Keith's mind raced. 'She's definitely playing a game. But I won't fold so easily. She's rich, and if she really wants to buy the Ashen Halo at its true value… then I win. Looks like I'll have to play along with her little game.'
She smiled seductively and brushed past him, exiting the shop. Without hesitation, Keith followed, sliding into her gleaming sports car as they sped away.
***
That evening, the Sawyer family's holiday resort hosted a grand dinner ball. The event celebrated the matriarch's 80th birthday.
The Sawyer family was one of the elite pillars of Noir York City, and this lavish Victorian-style castle was a testament to their status—stained glass windows, towering stone turrets, and sprawling gardens covering fifty acres, complete with a man-made lake.
A yellow sports car pulled up to the grand entrance. Keith and Valerie stepped out and entered the ballroom.
Instantly, dozens of eyes fixed on them. They were late—the young elites from various families were presenting gifts to the matriarch.
"Why are you late, Valerie? The celebration has started. Do you not have your grandmother in your heart?" A stern voice greeted them.
Victor Sawyer.
Valerie's uncle, stood before them. Middle-aged, dressed in a sharp black suit adorned with medals and pins, his salt-and-pepper hair marking his authority.
"Uncle Victor, you don't understand how hard it was!" Valerie replied, sounding frustrated. "I was searching for the perfect gift, but the vendor was stubborn and greedy…"
She shot a sly glance at Keith, silently blaming him.
Victor's eyes narrowed. "Even so, punctuality is crucial. How can we trust you with the Sawyers Group if you can't be on time for a family event?"
Keith watched, intrigued by the family dynamics. He was used to wealth but had never witnessed such a public display of power and expectation.
Before he could process it all, Keith found himself facing the matriarch.
The grand old lady seated regally on a golden throne, radiating the presence of an ancient heavenly angel.
"Mother, don't you think Valerie needs someone to keep her in line? She's twenty-three now, a perfect age for marriage and children to continue the Sawyer legacy…"
Victor continued, "Isn't my adopted son Vikram the perfect candidate?"
The matriarch nodded thoughtfully.
"Valerie, I'm old. I don't have much time left. My greatest wish is to hold my great-grandchildren. Are you seeing anyone? If not, I order you to consider Vikram."
"Grandmother, please don't force Valerie into something she doesn't want," a bespectacled man in his early thirties stepped forward, pleading.
A small crowd had gathered, watching the tense exchange.
Valerie's face darkened as the man spoke.
"Vikram, tell me... do you like Valerie?" Victor demanded.
"I… I like her. But I won't force her feelings," Vikram replied shyly, his eyes cast downward.
Keith found Vikram's handsome face unappealing, it reminded him of the pretentious elites he'd known in his past life.
Leaning toward Valerie, Keith whispered with amusement, "What a performance. I wonder how you'll get out of this scene."
Just as expected, after Vikram's words, the matriarch spoke again.
"Valerie, can you do this for me? For family?"
Valerie cut her off sharply. "Grandmother, I already have a fiancé I love."
The room froze.
"Who? Who is he?" the matriarch asked, eyes wide.
"Right here." Valerie grinned devilishly, linking her arm through Keith's and pointing at him.
Keith's eyes widened in shock.
"What?" Vikram and Victor exclaimed, staring at Keith's simple, almost rugged outfit.
Keith wore a black hunter jacket that hugged his athletic frame, a plain white undershirt, tactical black pants, and matte black boots—nothing like the flashy elites surrounding them.
"What!?" The crowd, including Jena Carpenter and Donald Matson, looked on in stunned silence as Valerie boldly claimed Keith as her fiancé.