Bellere Mansion, Holmby Hills, Los Angeles.
The Rolls-Royce Ghost Black Badge slowed gracefully as it climbed the long, manicured driveway, its glossy obsidian body reflecting the last hints of twilight.
At the apex, it ca to a halt before the mansion’s grand front steps, its engine purring to a soft silence.
The air outside was cooler than in Geneva, carrying with it the crisp scent of evening blooming jasmine and freshly cut grass.
Liam stepped out the mont Mason pulled open the rear door. His leather shoes touched the stone path, and he paused for just a second.
He closed his eyes.
The air here felt different. Softer. More familiar. It wasn’t heavy with the polish and deliberate perfection of a hotel; it was gentler.
A faint night breeze brushed past, stirring the leaves of the tall trees that stood like guardians around the mansion.
A long breath slipped from Liam’s lips and he smiled.
"I’ve missed this."
He opened his eyes again and looked toward the front doors. Evelyn and the two younger maids were already waiting for him at the top of the steps, hands folded neatly at their waists. The mont their eyes t his, they bowed in perfect unison.
"Welco back, sir," Evelyn said warmly.
"Welco ho, sir," the two younger maids echoed softly.
Liam’s smile deepened as he ascended the steps. "It’s good to be back. Thank you."
The polished oak doors were pulled open smoothly, revealing the vast foyer bathed in soft golden light from the chandeliers above.
Liam stepped through, his footsteps muted by the marble floor, and imdiately felt the familiar stillness of the mansion.
"Dinner is ready, sir," Evelyn said as they crossed into the foyer. "Would you like it served now?"
Liam nodded without hesitation. "Yes. That would be perfect."
"Very well." Evelyn inclined her head and gave a subtle signal to the maids. They moved quickly but gracefully, their steps silent as they went ahead to prepare the dining table.
Liam followed at a steady pace, his eyes sweeping briefly across the space he hadn’t seen in over a week. The high ceilings, the sweeping staircase, the faint scent of polished wood and fresh lilies arranged in vases along the hallway — it was all so familiar. Ho.
By the ti he reached the dining room, the long table was already alive with movent. Crisp white linens had been straightened, silver cutlery glead under the chandelier’s glow, and delicate porcelain plates were set in perfect symtry.
Evelyn stood by the chair at the head of the table, waiting for him. "Please, sir."
Liam sat, smoothing his blazer lightly as he did. He gave her a nod, and the maids began to bring in the dishes.
The soft clink of porcelain against the table filled the air as plates were set before him, each one carrying the unmistakable warmth of a ho-cooked al.
The mont the first dish touched the table, Liam realized how much he had missed this.
He picked up his fork and knife, cut into the at, and took the first bite.
The flavors blood instantly on his tongue — rich, warm, layered in a way that hotel kitchens could never quite replicate. He closed his eyes, savoring it fully.
"This..." he murmured softly, almost to himself, "this is what I’ve missed."
The food wasn’t just delicious. It carried familiarity. It carried intention. Unlike the precisely crafted luxury of Geneva’s five-star service, this was a al made by hands that knew him, that considered his preferences, his likes, his dislikes.
He ate slowly, unhurried, letting himself enjoy every detail. The crisp sear on the vegetables, the tenderness of the at, the faint aroma of rosemary woven into the sauce. The croissant-like rolls were still warm, their buttery layers flaking perfectly. Even the water tasted cleaner here.
Yeah, the water part was probably on an exaggeration on his part.
By the ti he set his fork down, a comfortable weight had settled into his chest. It wasn’t the heaviness of food — it was the heaviness of contentnt.
He dabbed his lips with the napkin and leaned back slightly.
"Thank you, Evelyn. That was excellent. I’ve really missed this."
"I’ll pass your words to the kitchen, sir," Evelyn bowed lightly.
As he rose from his seat, he gave her a small smile.
"Please do."
"Of course. Also," Evelyn added, her voice calm as always, "the laptop has been carried to your bedroom. I have no idea of you wanted to use it, so I took it to your bedroom instead of the study."
"Good." Liam gave her a nod before turning toward the staircase and he ascended slowly.
When he pushed open the door to his bedroom, the sight made him smile imdiately.
The room was unchanged. The large king-sized bed sat neatly made, its crisp linens reflecting the golden glow of the lamps. The furniture, the curtains, the subtle art on the walls. He really missed them.
He stepped in, exhaled softly, and set his jacket over the armchair by the window. Then he walked toward the bathroom.
The marble-tiled room greeted him with cool air. He turned on the water, letting the steam rise, and stripped off his clothes. The warmth cascaded over him a mont later, washing away the faint exhaustion of travel.
When he erged, his hair damp and his body wrapped in the comfortable fabric of a fresh shirt and trousers, he felt renewed.
He crossed to the bed and sat down, his eyes imdiately finding the matte-black laptop resting atop the sheets.
Sliding closer, he lifted the lid. The screen blinked to life, and the black chat window he had left open in Geneva flickered softly.
Lines of progress indicators scrolled along the side. The AGI’s training had advanced significantly since he last checked.
Almost complete.
Liam scanned the data. The language training module was at ninety-seven percent. Within minutes, it would cross the threshold.
The system had parsed through dictionaries, grammar, semantics, idioms, and tonal variations across dozens of languages. Soon, the AGI would have a flawless comprehension of communication itself.
He leaned back, exhaling softly.
Language was the foundation. Without it, no intelligence could build context. This first stage ensured it would not only understand words, but also the subtleties behind them — idioms, sarcasm, cultural nuance.
And after this? The next phase would be general knowledge.
Unlike language, which was a structured foundation, general knowledge would be a vast expanse. Carefully curated academic texts, encyclopedias, and data sets would give it breadth without drowning it in the chaos of the internet. It would build facts, principles, and logical structures into its mind, layer by layer, without the bias of corrupted human comntary.
He smiled faintly, closing the laptop again.
"Almost there."
He shifted slightly on the bed, drawing in a slow breath. As exciting as the AGI was, there was sothing far more pressing tonight.
The system and the third weekly sign-in.
He had been holding it off deliberately until he returned ho. And now, here he was — in his own room, with no distractions.
Not only would the rewards arrive, but the system itself would level up, unlocking a new function. One he had been waiting for.
Liam’s heart thudded faintly in his chest. His smile widened.
"Alright..." he whispered to himself.
Without further delay, he spoke the words aloud.
"System, sign-in."
[Ding!]
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