Voren understood the consequences before Seraphine even finished forming her proposal in her mind, because investing in her business would not simply be a financial decision but a declaration of alignnt, and aligning himself with her would fracture the already fragile line that held his friendship with Ravyn together, a risk he had no intention of taking lightly no matter how intrigued he was by her audacity.
Yet Seraphine stood there with that faint, knowing smile curving her lips, as though she had already calculated his hesitation and found it unimpressive.
"You should be honored that I’m reaching out to you to invest," she said smoothly, her voice calm but layered with confidence that bordered on arrogance. "Trust , once the slots are closed, you’ll be the one begging . And you know exactly what I’m capable of."
She swirled the wine in her glass slowly, watching the deep red liquid circle the crystal like a storm contained in sothing fragile, yet she did not lift it to her lips, as though she needed a clear head for what she was about to ignite.
Leon cleared his throat, the sound thin and nervous in the charged space between them. "Mr. Ashkael, please pardon her choice of words," he said quickly, attempting damage control before the tension snapped. "She’s politely asking you to invest. Sera, Mr. Ashkael holds more money and power than any of us here. You shouldn’t threaten him."
Seraphine turned her head toward Leon, and the smile she gave him was gentle, almost reassuring, yet it did nothing to soften the steel beneath it.
"I’m not threatening him," she replied evenly. "What I’m saying is the truth."
Then her attention shifted back to Voren, her gaze steady, unflinching. "You have until the end of this party to decide. But do I get the chance to sell my product?"
For a mont, Voren felt sothing close to paralysis, not because he doubted her ability but because he didn’t. After the stunt she had pulled with his server, the calculated precision and quiet brilliance of it, he knew better than to underestimate her. The problem was not her competence. The problem was Ravyn.
What would happen to his friendship if he publicly supported her?
He pushed the thought aside for now, deciding that information ca before allegiance.
"I’ll give you the chance," he said at last, his tone controlled, though sothing darker lingered underneath. "But I hope your boyfriend will be able to protect you. These n are more than what they seem."
Seraphine’s lips curved slightly, and for a fleeting second, Corvine’s warning echoed in her mind, that low, serious tone cautioning her about old n who disguised greed as ntorship and demanded favors in exchange for funding.
"Well," she said calmly, "I would have preferred to be taking care of patients instead of standing here if I wasn’t ready to sell my product."
Voren smiled in response, though the smile never reached his eyes. It was the kind of expression that carried an unspoken ssage, a silent warning wrapped in politeness, sothing that said you have been cautioned, and what happens next will be on you.
He reached for a glass of wine from a passing waiter and lightly tapped it against the tal tray, the crisp sound slicing through the hum of conversations and lazy laughter.
"Everyone, take your positions," he announced, his voice commanding without needing to rise. "I have sothing important to say."
The couches filled quickly, expensive suits and heavy watches shifting into place, the air thick with cigar smoke and ego. One couch remained subtly reserved for him, a silent acknowledgnt of hierarchy.
Seraphine and Leon settled onto one of the couches together, and Voren released a slow breath before speaking again.
"I would like to invite a very willful woman to make a presentation."
A few glasses lifted lazily in the air, so of the billionaires already slightly intoxicated, their words slurring just enough to reveal carelessness.
"Chairman," one of them called out with a crooked grin, "has she paid her dues?"
Seraphine frowned, confusion flashing across her face because she had no idea what they ant, but Voren rely gave a slight bow of his head.
"Ask her yourself," he replied smoothly.
Then he turned his gaze toward her before taking his seat beside Ravyn, who watched everything with faint amusent flickering across his features.
When Seraphine rose and stepped toward the center of the room, the subtle change in energy was imdiate, and familiar mocking voices began to rise from different corners like wolves scenting sothing they believed was easy prey.
"Her? Give a break. Does she think this is child’s play?"
She recognized that voice instantly.
Gray Sanders, the Alpha of the Voltage Pack, lounged with careless arrogance, two won draped beside him who were certainly not his Luna, and his smirk widened when he saw her eyes land on him. He had been one of Ravyn’s closest allies and had attended Daisy’s coronation as co-Luna with visible pride.
"This isn’t child’s play, Gray," Seraphine replied directly, refusing to shrink beneath his gaze. "But trust , even after you beg to invest once this presentation is over, I’ll never accept your money."
A ripple of murmurs spread.
"Oh," Gray said, pressing a hand dramatically to his chest as though wounded. "Am I supposed to die because an ant like you won’t let invest? Girl, you’re the one who needs money. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here."
Several heads bobbed in agreent, egos feeding off one another in lazy solidarity.
Ravyn’s faint smile deepened, clearly entertained by what he perceived as her impending embarrassnt, yet Voren felt sothing entirely different.
Pity. He had seen enough of Seraphine to know that she did not throw empty threats and watching Gray mock her felt less like dominance and more like a man unknowingly stepping toward a cliff.
"Allow the woman to sell her product," Mark said with a smile that was pleasant on the surface but calculating beneath.
Before the atmosphere could settle, another voice cut in sharply.
"Mark, are you forgetting sothing?"
Zack Manchester leaned forward slightly, his tone edged with authority. As of now, he was number seven on the Forbes list. "This isn’t how things are done. If she wants a chance, she has to earn it."
The words hung in the air like a verdict.
Seraphine turned her head slowly toward Voren, who sat among them like an island surrounded by restless tides, composed and unreadable.
"What is he talking about?" she asked, her voice steady despite the weight of unfamiliar rules pressing in around her.
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