Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs Chapter 69: Price of Patience

I gave her my most respectful nod—the kind I usually reserved for judges, clients, and scary won with high emotional intelligence.

"Nice to et you, Maria."

"Ah, el novio!" Maria said, looking up and down with the kind of assessnt that only mothers and mother-figures could pull off. "Madison talks about you constantly."

"All good things, I hope," I said, and Maria laughed.

"Mostly good things," she said with a wink that made Madison blush.

"Maria!" Madison protested, but she was trying not to laugh.

"I’m just teasing, mija," Maria said gently. "It’s good to see you happy."

The genuine affection between Madison and Maria was obvious, and I realized that this woman was probably more of a parent to Madison than her actual parents who were always traveling for business.

She smiled again, but this ti it was warr. Like I’d passed the first test. "If you’re hungry, I made arroz con pollo. It’s still warm."

God help —I almost proposed on the spot.

"Thank you," I said, and ant it.

"Buenas noches, señorita Madison," Maria said with a warm smile. "Your parents called—they’ll be in San Francisco until Tuesday."

"Gracias, Maria," Madison replied, then turned to . "My parents are always traveling for business. I’m used to it."

The way she said it tried to sound casual, but I could hear the loneliness underneath. Growing up in a mansion but spending most nights alone probably sucked more than growing up poor with a family that actually gave a shit about you.

"I’m gonna go shower and get ready for bed," Madison said, taking my hand. "You want to wait in my room?"

"Sure," I said, following her up the massive staircase that probably cost more than my entire house.

Madison’s bedroom was exactly what you’d expect from a rich girl, but sohow it felt more personal than the rest of the house. Photos of friends, books that looked actually read, clothes draped over chairs like a normal teenager’s room instead of a museum display, thngs that I didn’t see in the first visit.

"Make yourself comfortable," Madison said, grabbing pajamas from her walk-in closet. "I’ll be quick."

While she showered, I sat on her bed—which was bigger than my entire bedroom—and tried to process everything that had happened today. When the week started, I was a poor kid with supernatural abilities. Tonight, I was sitting in a mansion, dating a girl who was destined to inherit a real estate empire, with $300,000 in my bank account and profitable trades running on my phone.

Life really does co at you fast sotis.

Madison ca out of the bathroom wearing silk pajamas that probably cost more than my car, her hair damp and her face clean of makeup. She looked younger like this, more vulnerable.

"You look beautiful," I said, and ant it completely.

"Shut up," she said, but she was smiling as she climbed into bed. "Co here."

I kicked off my shoes and lay down next to her, pulling her close so her head was resting on my chest. The room was quiet except for the sound of our breathing and the distant hum of city traffic far below.

"Peter?" Madison said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Sing for ."

I laughed. "What?"

"You heard . I want you to sing to sleep."

"Madison, I don’t really—"

"Please?" she said, looking up at with those eyes that could probably convince to rob a bank if she asked nicely enough.

The thing is, the system had downloaded pretty much every skill imaginable, including musical abilities I’d never had before. I could probably play any instrunt, sing in any style, compose symphonies if I wanted to.

"What do you want to sing?" I asked.

"Anything. Sothing soft."

I thought for a mont, then started humming a lody that ca from sowhere deep in my enhanced mory. It was gentle, soothing, the kind of song that felt like a warm blanket on a cold night.

When I started adding words—sothing about finding ho in unexpected places, about love that changes everything—Madison’s eyes went wide.

"Holy shit, Peter," she whispered. "Your voice is incredible."

I kept singing, stroking her hair while she settled deeper against my chest. The words ca naturally, like they’d been waiting my whole life to be sung. It was about her, about us, about finding sothing real in a world full of fake bullshit.

By the ti I finished, Madison was nearly asleep, her breathing deep and even against my shirt.

"Where did that co from?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"From you yearnings for soone like ." I said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I love you," she whispered, so quietly I almost missed it.

My heart stopped for a mont. "I love you too, Madison."

She was asleep within minutes, her face peaceful in a way I’d never seen before. I held her until I was sure she was completely out, then carefully extracted myself from her arms.

Before I left, I kissed her forehead gently, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and trying to morize this mont—Madison Torres, heiress to an empire, sleeping peacefully in my arms after telling she loved .

*

I called a taxi from Madison’s driveway, not wanting to wake her by starting the Range Rover. While I waited, I checked my trading positions on my phone, the screen lighting up my face in the darkness.

My stomach dropped.

The markets had retraced hard while I was busy falling in love. My Ethereum position was down to $45,000 profit instead of the $50,000 I’d had earlier. BNB had lost most of its gains.

For a second, panic started to creep in—that familiar poor kid terror of losing money you couldn’t afford to lose. But then I took a breath and rembered who I was now.

I wasn’t so desperate gambler throwing away his last few dollars. I was Peter fucking Carter, with supernatural market knowledge and $300,000 to work with. Market retracents were normal, expected, part of the ga.

Instead of panicking, I opened a few more positions while I waited for my ride. Bought the dip on so altcoins that I knew would recover by Monday. Added to my Ethereum position at a discount.

By the ti the taxi arrived, I was actually ahead of where I’d started the evening.

The driver was so middle-aged guy who kept glancing at in the rearview mirror, probably wondering why a teenager was getting picked up from a mansion at midnight.

"Long night?" he asked.

"The best kind," I said, leaning back in the seat and thinking about everything that had happened today.

As we drove through the empty streets back to my neighborhood—back to reality—I couldn’t stop thinking about tomorrow.

About Mrs. Rodriguez and the mission I had planned. About the fact that in less than twelve hours, I’d be adding another woman to my growing list of liberated souls.

The teacher mission felt different now, more significant. It wasn’t just about earning SP or proving my abilities. It was about becoming the person Madison believed I could be—soone who mattered, soone who changed things.

Mrs. Rodriguez deserved better than four years of sexual frustration with a husband who couldn’t satisfy her. She deserved to rember what it felt like to be desired, to be worshipped, to be given everything she’d been missing.

And I was going to be the one to give it to her.

Tomorrow was going to be fucking legendary.

By the ti the taxi dropped off at my house, it was almost 1 AM. The porch light was on—Mom always left it on when I was out late—but the rest of the house was dark. My family was asleep, probably dreaming about the new life I’d promised them.

I let myself in quietly, checking my phone one more ti before heading upstairs. The trades were still running, slowly climbing back toward profitability. Everything was falling into place exactly as it should.

Tomorrow, I’d wake up as Peter Carter, honor student and devoted son. But by tomorrow afternoon, I’d be adding Mrs. Isabella Rodriguez to my list of sexually liberated won, and my empire would be one step closer to completion.

I fell asleep thinking about Madison’s words: "I love you."

For the first ti in my life, soone who mattered had said those words to and ant them. And tomorrow, I was going to prove I was worthy of them.