I reached for the bottle on the table, a non-alcoholic wine of course, rich red under the chandelier's glow, and poured it into a glass coupe.

The crisp clink as it filled the glass sounded sharper than it should have in the quiet of the private dining room.

I took a sip, let it linger on my tongue, then set the glass down. My eyes stayed fixed on Yara across the table.

"So," I said, leaning back slightly, "what do you need me for? Someone like you wouldn't bother buying my likeness unless there's a reason. A benefit."

Her lips twitched, the faintest ghost of approval. She gave a short nod.

"You seem to understand me quite a lot." She leaned back in her seat, shoulders relaxing as though I had just confirmed something she already suspected. "Yes, you're correct."

When I didn't jump in, she continued, her tone steady.

"I'm doing it for the purpose of my future plans."

I raised a brow.

"Future plans? And how exactly does that concern me?"

Her gaze hardened, her words sharper this time.

"I wish not to answer that question."

I paused, studying her face. She wasn't bluffing.

The way she held my eyes, refusing to flinch, it wasn't the silence of someone who didn't know what to say, it was the silence of someone who knew and refused to share.

Future plans. And I was somehow involved?

I tapped my fingers lightly against the glass before speaking again.

"Well, it's not like I care to know what your grand schemes are. But before this… whatever it is between us goes any further, there's something I need to make clear."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, though she gestured with her hand.

"Say it."

"I keep my free will," I said firmly.

No hesitation. No smile. Just the truth.

She didn't answer right away, so I pressed on.

"If you ask something I don't want to do, I won't. You don't have the right over me. I'll have the right to say yes or no. Always."

The room went quiet, thick with the aroma of roasted meat and wine.

Yara's face was unreadable as she reached for her spoon, dipped it into her plate, and raised a bite to her lips.

She ate without rushing, without breaking her composure.

I didn't move. I just waited.

Finally, after swallowing, she set her spoon down with a soft clink and said.

"It's… acceptable."

That single word carried enough weight to settle the matter, for now.

****

We finished the meal not long after. For a moment, I actually forgot about the constant tension, too absorbed in the richness of the food I'd been craving for weeks.

Still, I didn't allow myself to overeat. I had other things to do tonight, namely, my daily villain quest.

When we left the restaurant, Yara stopped just outside the private room and handed me a sleek black card. I recognized it immediately.

A VIP card. Not the regular kind either, the kind that gave more privileges than the average person could dream of.

I'd had a similar one before, back when I still had money. But this wasn't just a card. This was access.

To me, only one benefit really mattered, free food.

Yara's gaze was steady.

"Do you want anything else?"

I shook my head.

"If I do, I'll tell you later."

Deep down, of course, there were a dozen things I wanted. Needed, even.

But I wasn't about to lose my entire aura of dignity in one sitting. An alliance had to breathe. And I had time.

Still, as I glanced down at my stomach, a grin tugged at my lips.

Stuffed, but not too stuffed. Enough energy left for what I needed to do.

Because once I left her side tonight, I wasn't going home to rest.

No, I had a villain quest waiting for me, unfinished. And after that, I'd start preparing, gathering every scrap of information the system had on the Aegis Collective.

One step at a time.

-----------

The glow of a computer screen lit the dimly furnished room, painting Yara's face in cold shades of blue.

She sat in her chair with the laptop balanced neatly on her lap, scrolling through lines of information with a stillness that would've seemed almost indifferent, if not for the sharpness in her eyes.

The silence in the room was broken by the sudden buzz of her phone. She didn't flinch. Instead, she picked it up and pressed it to her ear without so much as a greeting.

"Ah, good day, young miss," a man's voice greeted warmly, though his tone carried the practiced polish of someone used to speaking from the shadows.

"I'll let that slide," Yara said evenly, "just for today."

There was a brief pause on the other end.

"Let what slide, Miss Yara?"

Her fingers idly tapped against the laptop's edge as her eyes skimmed the screen.

"I've gone through the information you sent me about that person. You did quite a good job with this."

The man chuckled with unmasked pride.

"I've always done a good job."

Yara rolled her eyes slightly, though her tone remained calm, almost bored.

"You stated he was kicked out of his own house for something he didn't do, correct?"

"Precisely." The man's voice carried a smug edge now. "I hacked into all the household staff's phones. Their messages confirmed it, they saw the scene themselves. After that, I dug deeper. His step-siblings and his step mother… all their phones as well. That's where I found the truth. They created a fake video through magic, a fabrication that showed him stealing company documents."

Her eyes narrowed.

"That's… a smart move." She paused, folding her free arm across her chest. "But still, his father could've questioned it further. He could've gotten to the bottom of it. Yet you mentioned his father never truly cared for him."

"Exactly." The man gave a short laugh, the kind that grated against silence. "His father never loved him, never hated him either. Simply… ignored him. All his affection was reserved for the step-ones. And the strange part, Miss Yara, is that the boy didn't seem to care at all. He wasn't disturbed by being cast aside, not even slightly. As long as he had money, he seemed… content. Almost satisfied."

The man's voice dipped into disbelief.

"The kid is very weird."

Yara's lips curved into the faintest shadow of a smile.

Her eyes finally left the computer screen, reflecting an odd flicker of interest.

"You're right," she said softly, almost to herself. "He is indeed weird. Very weird."

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