The sunlight leaked softly through the translucent curtains of Luna's room. The sheets were messy, the room still scented with jasmine essence from the automatic diffuser programmed to activate at dawn.
Ivy appeared on the floating screen interface above the headboard, her voice gentle. "Good morning, miss. It's already 9:23 a.m."
Luna, with messy hair and eyes still half-closed, let out a lazy yawn before stretching and murmuring. "What a day… delicious… finally a little peace…"
She walked barefoot to the mansion's luxurious bathroom. The door sensor recognized her and opened softly with a mechanical sigh. In a few seconds, the bathtub filled with water at the perfect temperature — courtesy of Ivy.
Minutes later, Luna was submerged up to her shoulders in the warm water, with only the top of her head and eyes visible. The scented foam wrapped her body like a divine cloak.
She snapped her fingers lazily and murmured. "Ivy, foundation status."
"Of course, miss. The Malroth Foundation reports show that the strategic investments defined for the next five years in the Phoenix Empire are still under review in the Imperial Senate."
Luna opened one eye, slowly turning her head over the padded edge of the bathtub. "Why hasn't it been finalized yet?"
"The debates continue. Apparently, the Empire is restructuring its planning bodies. Although the average salary in Phoenix is the highest in the world — about 150 thousand dollars monthly, according to the latest data — still 60% of the population lives below the poverty line, especially in peripheral urban zones and isolated inland regions."
"Pff... that's absurd." murmured Luna, sinking her chin into the water. "The country with the richest elite in the world still lives with this basic inequality?"
"Yes. The Empire's decision to cut public spending in recent decades worsened the problem. Many cities lost institutional support. Now, with the Malroth Foundation committing to inject resources into sectors like education, primary health, and social housing, the Senate rushes to define which regions will receive the first investment packages."
Luna remained silent for a few seconds, just listening to the soft sound of water rippling. Her thoughts danced between irritation with imperial bureaucracy and the memory of how many times she had seen the faces of starving children on the news.
"And the imperial aristocracy keeps worrying about... rare wines and Persian rugs."
"Exactly. The political debates have been heated. There are conservative groups in the Senate who prefer that the foundation's money go to partnerships with private imperial companies, not direct distribution to the poor."
Luna raised an eyebrow and murmured ironically. "Of course, the old trick of diversion through 'partnerships'. What creative people. I've seen less pretending in ranked LoL matches."
"However, Matthew spoke publicly supporting the Malroth Foundation initiative. His allies try to speed up approval with the Imperial Council."
Upon hearing Matthew's name, Luna snorted quietly, her fingers submerged in the water drawing invisible spirals in the foam. "At least the ice block serves some purpose besides ignoring my selfies…"
"Miss, should I record that as an unofficial personal opinion?"
Luna let out an involuntary laugh. "Record it as imperial sarcasm."
"Noted."
She sighed deeply and closed her eyes again, allowing herself to sink slightly into the water.
Minutes later, water still slowly trickled down Luna's blonde strands as she left the bathtub.
With a white towel wrapped around her body and another on her hair, she walked to the huge closet.
Without hurry, Luna analyzed the options: dresses, female suits, vegan leather sets, handmade kimonos... but that day, she wanted something different. Something that screamed "I am the most expensive breakfast in this restaurant."
"Ivy, temperature?"
"22 degrees Celsius, miss."
She smiled slightly, pulling from the hanger a custom-made white dress, fabric molded with nanotechnology to perfectly adapt to her silhouette. Sewn with black silk threads and polished black microdiamonds, the dress hugged her body with refined sensuality — a balance between celestial purity and elegant sin.
Luna put on the piece with an almost blasé ease and headed to the vanity, brushed her teeth while lightly swaying her hips to a light French R&B playlist.
Then, with automatic movements, she tied her hair in a low bun, leaving two strands loose framing her face. She applied a satin nude lipstick, onyx-detailed earrings, and crystallized Louboutin heels, a gift from Nikoly.
In front of the full-length mirror with adaptive lighting, Luna observed herself with a critical look and then smiled, satisfied. "Okay. Goddess approved."
Leaving her room, she walked through the mansion's long corridors, absentmindedly whistling an old song.
Arriving at the garage, Luna scanned the vehicles with a bored look.
Golden Bugatti? Too aggressive.
Rolls-Royce? Too ceremonial.
Neon Lamborghini? Too… Nikoly.
Then she sighed, opening a small smile as she stared at a pearl white Aston Martin with crimson interior, discreet in the measure of extravagance.
"You're coming with me today, baby."
The doors opened softly at the touch of her fingerprint. The car AI gave good morning with its personalized voice (Matthew's voice, of course — discreetly recorded by Ivy weeks ago).
"Good morning, miss. Destination?"
"Take me to Noir Lumière. I feel like eating croissant and pretending my life is normal."
"Understood. Starting route."
The car slid smoothly out of the mansion onto the exclusive luxury traffic lanes of New York.
On the streets, common cars respectfully moved away from the aura emanating from the Aston Martin.
Some automatic cameras on social networks were already capturing the billionaire's passage.
In the back seat, in her Dior bag, the cellphone discreetly glowed with a blinking notification.
But Luna ignored it.
On the playlist, a delicate piano track mixed with Japanese electronic beats began to play.
She closed her eyes for a few seconds, letting herself be carried by the sensation of floating.
At that moment, Luna just wanted to have breakfast… as if she wasn't one of the most powerful and unpredictable women on the planet.
Half an hour later, the Aston Martin stopped smoothly in front of the five-star restaurant Noir Lumière.
Luna got out of the car and before her heels even touched the entrance marble, two impeccably dressed hosts greeted her with reverence:
"Miss Malroth, it's an honor. Your VIP table is ready."
She simply nodded, eyes half-closed under her Dior sunglasses encrusted with amethysts.
As she entered the hall, the eyes turned to her like magnets.
A few whispered, others discreetly grabbed their phones.
Most there were made up of magnates, heirs, retired diplomats and their blogger granddaughters.
All, of course, knew exactly who she was.
Luna was led to a corner table, surrounded by panoramic windows, with a direct view of Central Park, rebuilt with ecological engineering a few years ago.
Sitting down with a satisfied sigh, she crossed her legs and removed her glasses.
Soon, a pair of very well-dressed older ladies approached. "Excuse us, Miss Malroth... we're your biggest fans. May we take a picture?"
"Of course, my darlings." she replied, smiling like a tired but courteous movie star.
Two other men also came to take photos and, before breakfast even began, Luna had already autographed napkins and posed for selfies from at least five different angles.
The waiter arrived with a personalized digital menu.
Luna simply said. "The usual."
And then he left.
Moments later, a tray appeared with imported coffee, perfectly yolked eggs benedict, gold-covered croissants filled with French lavender cream.
Luna was in paradise.
Until... hell showed up in a tight suit.
"You shouldn't be alone, such a beautiful woman shouldn't have breakfast alone."
She looked up.
In front of her was a tall man, artificially tanned, with excessively white teeth and the charm of a hungry shark. Probably some real estate fund heir wanting more clicks than cryptocurrency.
"I am, actually. With myself." Luna replied dryly, picking up her croissant with lightness.
But he insisted. "Seriously, let me join you. What if I'm the love of your life and you're just eating croissant not knowing it?"
She nearly spat out her coffee laughing. She was about to tell him to buzz off when... something in the corner of her eye caught her attention.
A man, in a discreet corner of the restaurant, was holding his phone with the camera pointed exactly at her and her "new suitor."
A devilish little smile appeared on Luna's lips. "Well, well... maybe fate wants to play a little."
She turned to the sleazy suitor with a playful sparkle in her eyes. "Sit. Let's see if you're as interesting as you think you are."
The idiot smiled as if he had won the lottery and sat across from her.
Luna crossed her legs again, lightly touched her hair, and threw all her charm as if she were flirting with a soap opera character.
She even let out a fake dramatic laugh, just to make sure the camera caught it.
If it was media scandal she wanted… let it be cinematic.
Luna imagined for a second Matthew's face seeing that on the news: her laughing with a playboy in a restaurant, city in the background, smiles, glances… all meticulously staged.
She almost bit her lip holding back the laugh of satisfaction. "Let's see if I break that ice once and for all…"
The brunch was perfect, but for Luna, the hardest dish to swallow wasn't the lavender croissant, but the prematurely aged alpha-male sitting in front of her.
"...and then, after the trip to Dubai on my dad's yacht, we stayed in a suite that had a ceiling made of gold. Literally, gold. I swear. You'd love it. By the way, I can take you there any weekend. With my last name, doors open by themselves, you know how it is."
She blinked slowly.
No. She didn't know how it was.
With the last name Malroth, doors didn't open… they fell to their knees and begged for forgiveness.
Luna forced a polite smile, crossing her legs and resting her chin on her hand. "Wow. That's… amazing. And the gold ceiling doesn't melt with human heat? Or is it resistant to mediocrity too?"
The idiot laughed, not noticing the sharp sarcasm, as if she had made a lounge joke.
"You're fun. I can tell you've got fire too. I bet you're wild in bed, huh? In fact… how about we stretch this out after here? My parents have a luxury apartment nearby. Just the view is worth it. And if you want, I can show you… some very valuable things." He winked, biting his lip like he was in a bad porno.
Luna blinked once.
Then blinked again, now trying not to roll her eyes violently.
She took a deep breath. She was a goddess of self-control. A queen of strategy. A diva in disguise.
But this manchild with expired testosterone was testing even her enhanced genes' patience.
"You talk about money like it's charm. Is that your only talent, or are there still surprises?" she asked, sipping her coffee casually.
"Oh, my dear, talent is what I have most. In bed, then… I'm practically a luxury investment."
She held back the urge to laugh, disguising it with a theatrical sigh.
Meanwhile, discreetly, she glanced to the side.
Yes.
The man with the camera was still there.
Recording.
Absolute certainty that it would be on some gossip channel by the end of the day.
The scandal was under construction and the "candidate" was being so pathetic that Luna hardly needed to act.
"You know… you're actually kind of funny." she said, resting her elbow on the table and staring at him with an almost pitying look. "You have the self-esteem of a demigod with the brain of a loaf of bread. A… exotic combination."
He laughed, thinking it was a compliment. Of course he did. "I could take you right now if you want. I promise I'll make you forget all those boring guys from meetings and spreadsheets. You deserve to be treated like a queen."
'I am one, idiot.' she thought.
But instead, she leaned slightly forward, pretending a suggestive charm, while murmuring. "And what if I say I'm starting to get… curious?"
His smile was so wide it looked like his jaw might detach.
Luna only smiled even more, because she knew that smile would be his ruin when the media published the headline with the photo: "Luna Malroth in alleged affair with millionaire fund heir?"
She grabbed her phone, subtly positioned the screen to reflect the man recording, and sent a quick message to the girls' group chat.
@SmellOfPostRainEarth: "Alert: trying to see if Matthew has a nervous system."
@SmellOfPostRainEarth: "There's a scandalous idiot here. If this doesn't break his ice, I give up."
Right after, Ivy's notification appeared discreetly. "Restaurant surveillance cameras confirm active recording. Already being monitored."
Luna just rested her chin on her hand again, her gaze fixed on the moron in front of her. "So... tell me more about this apartment with a gold ceiling. I'm dying to… hear about the baseboards too."