10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 124- A Strong Lady...

The massive study was already buzzing with intense activity. Important papers stacked high. A massive digital board lit brightly with real-time stock prices and complex charts. A huge pile of thick folders placed neatly in front of an empty leather chair—that was hers.

"Seven very important meetings today. Take detailed notes. Watch absolutely everything. Ask no questions unless explicitly prompted," Ermond said, not even bothering to look at her.

Thalia dropped heavily into the leather chair, already feeling her lower back ache. Her fingers nervously itched for the expensive pen. She absolutely hated this. But she also knew something deep down in her core:

’This is all I’ve got right now.’

Because if she played this massive game right, learned enough dark secrets... she might actually stand a real chance at a future where she wasn’t just someone’s helpless pawn.

This intimidating butler, Ermond, he wasn’t normal. He effortlessly ran absolute circles around arrogant CEOs, sharp lawyers, powerful politicians. And he was actually teaching her—even if it was incredibly harsh and totally cold.

’Cruxius probably thought I’d quickly crack,’ she thought defiantly, flipping open her thick notebook. ’But the joke’s entirely on him. I’ll take absolutely everything I can possibly get. And one day, when he’s finally done playing with my body and life, I’ll walk away from him with enough knowledge to easily build my own damn empire.’

The long day dragged on agonizingly.

Intense meetings with arrogant regional managers. Cutthroat legal strategy sessions. An incredibly aggressive acquisition plan to hostilely take over some struggling tech firm.

Every single word spoken mattered.

Ermond ruthlessly corrected her naive approach for complex deals mid-sentence, asked her incredibly hard questions she absolutely didn’t know how to answer, and then coldly made her figure it out under massive pressure.

By the fifth grueling meeting, her head was pounding with a migraine.

’God, this is absolute torture.’

By the seventh, she desperately wanted to throw the heavy pen directly across the massive room.

But she didn’t. She stubbornly pushed through the pain. She kept writing. Watching intently. Learning exactly how they operated. Absorbing everything.

Evening finally came.

Ermond dismissed the very last exhausted visitor with a curt, single nod. The massive room was finally, blessedly quiet. Thalia’s back screamed in total agony. Her fingers were completely numb from all the furious writing.

She stood up, wobbling very slightly on her feet.

"Thank you very much for the opportunity," she muttered, almost entirely out of pure habit now. She gave a quick, very tired bow to Ermond and turned around to leave for the quiet sanctuary of her room.

But then—

His private phone rang loudly.

A sharp, demanding buzz cut violently through the silence, vibrating heavily against the polished wood of his massive desk. Ermond moved incredibly fast—almost terrifyingly fast—snatching it up quickly before the second ring even finished.

"Yes?"

His voice was very low. Crisp. The usual, deeply chilled edge of a highly dangerous man who absolutely never raised his tone unless he fully meant to end someone’s career.

But then... something major changed.

A very heavy beat passed on the silent line.

Then—

"What?!"

The single word literally tore from his throat, raw and incredibly loud, slamming heavily into the quiet room exactly like a gunshot.

Thalia flinched violently.

Ermond was instantly on his feet, his heavy leather chair screeching violently back against the marble floor as his knuckles whitened dangerously around the sleek phone. His usual mask of total, composed ruthlessness completely cracked—his jaw was incredibly tight, his brow furrowed deep enough to leave literal trenches.

Thalia froze mid-step. She’d absolutely never heard him sound like this.

Not even when coldly signing literal death warrants for bankrupt, crying families.

Not even when arranging highly illegal backdoor trades that effortlessly toppled massive boardrooms overnight.

Not even when desperate people literally begged him for mercy.

"...Sir Ermond?"

She took a very hesitant step forward. Her brows pinched in confusion, her wide eyes scanning his tense face for something—absolutely anything—that made logical sense.

"Is something horribly wrong?"

No verbal answer.

Just thick silence—and the faint, terrifying tremble of his usually steady fingers around the expensive phone as he slowly lowered it from his ear.

Then, finally, he turned fully to face her.

And his voice was incredibly tight. Highly tense. Laced heavily with something very rare and entirely unfamiliar to him.

"Get ready immediately," he said sharply. "We’re leaving. Right now."

"What?" Thalia blinked, her heart suddenly stumbling violently into her throat. "Where the hell are we going?"

His sharp eyes met hers.

For the very first time in all the long weeks she’d known Ermond, Thalia didn’t see cold steel or professional distance.

She saw genuine fear.

Real, raw fear. Quiet and deeply buried, but definitely there.

"...Young Master Cruxius. He’s been heavily attacked. Badly, fatally injured. They’ve just taken him to the main hospital," he said, his voice low but incredibly urgent.

The solid world violently tilted under her feet.

Cruxius.

That damn name. That completely cursed name.

Thalia’s stomach twisted so incredibly hard it felt exactly like someone had violently punched her. Her breath caught painfully, her lips parting slightly—but absolutely no sound came out.

’Cruxius...?’

Her thoughts stuttered wildly. She absolutely didn’t know what to think. What to even feel.

But her body moved entirely on its own.

Ermond had already thrown his coat perfectly on, his movements incredibly sharp and highly mechanical. The massive double doors swung violently open at his fast approach, the household staff flinching back in fear as he passed. He absolutely wasn’t waiting for anyone.

Thalia desperately chased after him, her feet almost tripping over themselves in her haste.

’What the hell... did he finally get heavily beaten after trying to hit on some unavailable woman?’

The very fast car ride to the main hospital was quiet—but it was absolutely not peaceful.

Thalia sat rigidly in the back beside Ermond, her hands clasped tightly together on her lap, her wide eyes fixed entirely outside the tinted window as the bright streetlights passed by in fast streaks.

’Why is my chest... acting weird?’ she thought in confusion, pressing a palm very lightly against her sternum, right above her breasts. There wasn’t physical pain. Just... something else entirely. A very dull, heavy pressure. An incredibly odd discomfort.

She shifted nervously in her leather seat.

’He’s badly injured. So what? That absolutely doesn’t mean anything to me.’

But the logical words didn’t land. Her brain knew that. Her traitorous heart, apparently, definitely didn’t get the memo.

Cruxius absolutely wasn’t her friend. He definitely wasn’t her lover. He absolutely wasn’t anything good, not after exactly what he selfishly did to her.

And yet...

’I’m absolutely not supposed to care,’ she reminded herself fiercely again. ’He’s the sole reason I’m entirely stuck here, trapped in a massive mansion like some pathetic caged bird.’

Still, she kept nervously glancing at the bright dashboard clock.

Still, her fingers kept fidgeting anxiously with the hem of her skirt.

Still, her incredibly stupid heart kept beating much faster the closer they got.

The massive car slowed down smoothly in front of the bright emergency entrance, and Ermond was completely out before the heavy wheels even fully stopped.