MTL - Reborn as a Good Child - Chapter 81 Opening peacock

“Block him.”“He's technically still my boss.”“Then block him with dignity.”The call ended again.And then started again.I let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a sob, then finally answered with the enthusiasm of a snail crawling through salt.“Yes, Mr. Walton?”“Have you changed your mind yet?”I collapsed onto the towel and gazed at the sky as though it might consume me entirely if I pleaded sweetly enough.“Do you ever take a break?” I asked, shielding my eyes with one hand.“You're avoiding the question.”“Because it's a dumb question.”He exhaled, the sound sharp and irritated even over phone. “It's not a dumb question. It's a business offer.”“It's a weird offer-one that I already said no to.”There was a brief pause, and I could practically hear him clenching his jaw through the speaker.“You are acting unreasonably.”“ Unreasonable?” I sat up. “I'm not the one drafting fake girlfriend contracts like it's a normal Tuesday.”“Isabella-”“Certainly not, Mr. Walton.” I mimicked his tone perfectly. “I told you I'm not doing it. You need to find someone else to play pretend with.”SYNOPSISIsabella Miller thought saying no to her boss’s fake dating offer was the end of the story.But Adrien Walton doesn’t take no—especially not when he’s convinced she’s a gold digger.Suddenly, her student loans are piling up, her father’s vet clinic is on the brink of eviction and her brother is about to be kicked out of college. Coincidence? She thinks not.Adrien Walton is calm, calculating—and he's just pulled every string to corner Isabella into the perfect position.Now she’s stuck choosing between pride and survival.So she agrees to his offer: be his fake girlfriend.No feelings attached. No drama. Just business.Or so she thought.“Conference Room B. Fifteen minutes,” he said, passing by without a glance.The folder he pushed across the table landed with a thud.I opened it. The contract. All of it.---Enemies to lovers? Check.Slow burn? Hmmnyea.Banter so sharp it might file your nails? Yes.Delicious workplace tension? Of course.Tension that could melt steel?Absolutely.Smut?? Wanna find out?Welcome to corporate romance warfare. There’s no escaping this contract.

Word went around that no one that had ever knocked on the esteemed Eleazar family’s doors seeking shelter were turned away.Fleeing the prince of Lustris no less, Arabella Sterling held out hope that those weren’t mere rumors as she crossed the border over to Umbraria, home to all creatures of the night. A land where noble blood like hers was a highly coveted delicacy.As such, she wasn’t turned away, but since the Eleazars ran no charity, Arabella was compelled to become the sole blood provider to the heir of the family in exchange for safety.Though never, in a million years, did she imagine that what had started as a simple trade off, could morph into a swirl of tangled passion when the cold and stoic vampire she served showed interest in the young woman beyond the crimson nectar coursing her veins.

Saying 5000 year-old-dragon has an impressive ring to it, yet that dragon was an extremely harmless, herbivorous being. However, because of his uselessly giant figure and scary appearance, he was mistaken for the Demon King’s executive and provided by the nearby village with a sacrificial maiden.

Fundamentally cowardly and timid dragon tried to send her away, but the extremely enthusiastic sacrifice didn’t want to give up. Inevitably, he lied: “Okay, I just ate a small portion of your soul, so you can go back already”, but the maiden with outrageous assumptions has misunderstood that she became the dragon’s kin.

Then, out of all things, she began to manifest strange power on the basis of her wrong assumptions – in turn, the helpless dragon, by some mistake started a rebellion against the Demon King.

Rebellion or whatnot, he wasn’t even his subordinate in the first place.

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.