CLICK!

"My lady, I’ve brought drinks."

A maid wearing the same uniform as the maids that had taken the girls and his other friends up into the VIP section bowed as she brought down a tray balanced perfectly on one hand.

"Very good."

A mature woman with black hair and brown eyes sat opposite Wren at a large luxurious table that was made of a material that made it reflective like glass, catching the ambient lighting from the crystal chandelier above.

The entire room screamed wealth... from the cream-colored walls with gold trim to the plush carpet beneath their feet.

"You can drop them," the woman said smoothly.

The maid nodded and then dropped a singular cup in front of her lady curtly and dropped one in front of Wren as well, before placing down the bottle of the drink that was being served with practiced precision.

It was a large bottle with a purple cover which Wren would have taken as any other brand except for the fact that Leah had shown it to him before during one of their talks about high society.

’This wine is called Château Noir Impérial and it costs 500,000 credits per bottle.’ Wren thought with his eyes fixed on the elegant script on the label.

That was many times more than what he had right now even with all of that mission grinding. Five hundred thousand credits on a single bottle of wine? And someone was casually using it like it was cheap table wine?

Wren felt utterly outclassed in everything at this moment.

The sheer gap between his world and this one was becoming more apparent with each passing second. He’d thought he was doing well... making money, completing missions, and building his System Balance but this? This was a different stratosphere entirely.

"You’re staring."

Isabel’s voice cut through his thoughts, she was looking at the bottle with an amused expression.

"Do you not like the brand?" Isabel asked while tilting her head slightly. "Honestly, I don’t like it that much too, but I didn’t want to spook you too much given that this is like our first meeting. I usually don’t drink wine below a million credits, but that’s just me."

Wren’s brain short-circuited for a moment. Wine below a million credits? Was she trying to flex on him?

Wren didn’t know, but what he did know was that there was a very vast distance between the comfortable and the very rich, and Wren hoped to reach there someday. Not just for the money itself, but for the security and power that came with it.

"Well, if I were to be honest..." Wren said carefully, "spending 500k on a bottle of wine spooks the hell out of me."

Isabel laughed in a way that almost made his eye twitch. He wasn’t even joking so why was she laughing?

’So Nyx,’ Wren thought while maintaining his polite smile, ’do you think we’ll be able to seduce her since she’s a famou—’

His thought was cut off by the blue screen that materialized in front of him.

[Don’t even think about it, Host. I may be perverted but I know my boundaries and it’s not worth it. You’d have much better chances with Leah or her older daughter... Besides, this woman doesn’t really like you that much.]

’Huh? Why, did something happen?’ Wren thought as his brow furrowed slightly. The screen dismissed as if telling him that the answer was right in front of him. ’Fuck you, Nyx.’

Isabel then motioned toward the cup with an elegant gesture of her manicured hand.

"You should drink up..." Isabel said. "We have a lot to catch up on."

The statement made Wren skeptical, but he lifted the drink to his lips anyway. Refusing would be rude, and he got the sense that being rude to Lady Isabel Merritt would have consequences he couldn’t afford.

He swallowed.

Wren felt two emotions as he downed the drink.

The first emotion was the immense sweetness that followed since it was really good wine... it was rich with layers of flavor that exploded across his tongue. This was what half a million credits tasted like. Objectively, it was incredible.

The next emotion was pain. Physical and emotional pain. The amount of money put into this single sip would have bought him a car. A supercar, too... It felt painful to drink it down, knowing that he was literally consuming what most people made in years with each swallow.

Wren started by asking, "What did you mean by we had a lot to catch up on?"

Isabel chuckled and leaned back in her chair.

"It’s nothing serious," Isabel said with a wave of her hand. "I was just thinking it was time we talked, considering that I’m your aunt."

Wren was drinking up again... he’d lifted the cup to take another sip however, as soon as he heard that, he spat it out, painting the table in expensive wine.

Purple liquid splattered across the reflective surface with droplets catching the light like scattered jewels.

The woman merely smiled and raised a little bell from the table, jingling it with a delicate motion. The clear chime echoed in the luxurious room.

The next instant, a maid entered as if she’d been waiting right outside the door.

"Clean this up immediately." Isabel said simply with her tone neither annoyed nor sympathetic.

The maid nodded while producing a white handkerchief from her uniform pocket and cleaning the table up where Wren had spat out the wine with quick movements. Within seconds, the surface was pristine again, as if nothing had happened.

The maid bowed and left just as quickly as she’d arrived. Once she was gone, Wren looked down at his hands, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"I’m sorry for doing that," Wren said quietly. "I was caught by surprise."

Isabel waved her hand dismissively.

"It’s no biggie..." Isabel said with a slight smile. "Or isn’t that how the young people call it?"

Wren’s mind was still reeling.

"What... what do you mean by you’re my aunt?" Wren asked.

Isabel reached out for the bottle, uncorking it with a soft pop and pouring herself another glass. She took a drink, then set the cup down.

"It isn’t blood-related, though..." Isabel said. "But that absolute bastard of a father you have seduced my sister and married her as well as your mother. So in essence, that makes us related in a way through that cursed marriage."

Wren’s eyes widened.

He drank down the remaining drink in his cup automatically. As he brought the glass down, his hand trembled slightly.

His dad did what...?’

"With that look on your face," Isabel said, "I assume that you’re not aware of any of this."

She pushed the bottle over to Wren.

"You should refill your cup..." Isabel continued.

Wren took the bottle and slowly poured the drink into his cup while Isabel took a deep breath.

"I apologize for calling your father that name," Isabel said, though her tone suggested she wasn’t particularly sorry.

"You can say it as much as possible..." Wren said flatly. "I really don’t care, The man deserves it."

A smile spread on the older woman’s face and Wren could see where Leah got her smile then she immediately began ranting.

"I warned her," Isabel said. "I warned my sister about that stupid fucking man that came to ask for her hand in marriage... I didn’t like him from the start."

She took another drink.

"I threatened her," Isabel continued. "I told her that if she accepted that marriage, I would disown her and what did that foolish girl do? She ran away with that fucker to another country!"

Isabel’s face was flushed now.

"That absolute piece of shit convinced my baby sister to abandon everything... her family, her inheritance, her future for what? For him? A man who couldn’t even be bothered to stay faithful, who knocked up another woman while married to her?"

She slammed her cup down.

"And now look where we are! She’s dead just like his first on–...!"

Isabel paused, then cleared her throat.

"I apologize..." Isabel said. "You can speak now."

"Ran away?" Wren asked, raising his eyebrow. "To another country? Also I’m sorry for your loss..."

Isabel nodded, taking a breath to calm herself.

"Yes," Isabel confirmed. "My sister ran away to another country with that man. You truly weren’t aware of all of this?"

Wren shook his head slowly.

"I hadn’t really seen my father that much..." Wren admitted. "Maybe seven times from the time I was born. Or lower than that, honestly. I stopped counting after a while."

Isabel looked at him with something that might have been pity in her eyes.

"That’s—" she started.

"It’s not exactly an issue," Wren cut her off gently. "I didn’t want to see the man’s face that much anyway. My mom raised me so she was enough."

The room fell into a brief silence.

Isabel then took a drink and Wren did so as well. The both of them dropped their cups at the same time with synchronized clinks against the glass table then she cleared her throat.

"So," Isabel said with her voice becoming more businesslike. "I called you over to tell you that you actually have a younger sister."

She drank again, this time a longer sip.

"She’s just a few years younger than you..." Isabel continued, "and your father already announced her as the heir of Langford Industries so I was wondering if you did anything to piss him off?"

Wren’s eyes widened in shock. There was a lot of new information here, hitting him all at once. First of all, he had a damn younger sister? And she was abroad? Was that why his old man had left Unitas? Or rather... why the man had been leaving Unitas consecutively?

Next, he was aware that his dad owned some kind of business, but he’d never told Wren about the full extent of it. It wasn’t like Wren wanted to inherit anything from that man anyway.

But still...

’So let me get this straight...’ Wren thought. ’This man called me back to Harlow to inherit a run-down resort? But he gave a girl I’ve never met, who’s younger than me, ownership to his whole company?’

He wasn’t even mad, he was just confused.

[Host, I wasn’t even sure it was possible, but your dad is a bigger piece of shit than I expected.]

’I can’t even deny it,’ Wren thought and then sighed out loud.

"Not at all..." Wren said finally, rubbing the back of his head with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "It’s just a whole lot of new information that I need to process. I wasn’t even aware that I had a half-sister until you told me just now."

Isabel took another swing of her drink and dropped her cup down to the table with a definitive clink then she stood up, her movements were graceful despite the alcohol she’d consumed.

"Drop your cup and follow me," Isabel said, walking toward a door though it was not the door that led him into this room.

Wren stood up and followed her as she opened it, revealing a very luxurious private bedroom with a massive bed covered in silk sheets and a large floor-to-ceiling window that had a view of the entire port below.

The city lights twinkled in the distance as the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. Isabel sat down on the master bed and patted her lap with a gentle motion.

"Come lay your head on my lap..." Isabel said softly and Wren took a step back.

"I should do what?"

Isabel’s cheeks flushed a bit and she looked away slightly which was a rare break in her composed demeanor.

"Stop making this more embarrassing than it has to be," Isabel said. "Just come lay your head on my lap. And if you want compensation for doing so, I’ll pay you afterward."

Wren slowly approached the bed, still uncertain about what was happening. He sat down at the far end, as far from her as possible while still technically being on the bed.

’Whatever...’ Wren thought with a mental shrug.

He laid down on the woman’s lap with his head pressed against her soft skin. She really did have wide hips like Leah had said Merritt women did... it was surprisingly comfortable, actually. The woman ran her hand through his hair and Wren flinched at the contact with his body tensing but then he settled afterward, letting himself relax into the unfamiliar but not unpleasant sensation.

"I used to do this for my daughters when they were stressed..." Isabel said quietly. "Running my hand through their hair always calmed them down."

Wren didn’t respond.

He was thinking about how his mother used to run her hand through his hair exactly like this when he was young... back when things were simpler.

The motion was soothing... Isabel continued for a few minutes, her fingers gentle as they moved through his blond hair.

"Alright," Isabel said after a while. "You can get up now."

There was no response. The woman leaned forward, curious, only to see that the young man was snoring lightly and had fallen asleep on her lap.

Isabel sighed but there was a small smile on her face.

"What a cheeky young man..." she muttered under her breath. She kept running her hand through his hair anyway, Perhaps this was what she would have done for her sister’s daughter if the circumstances weren’t much different... She had only seen pictures of the young girl after all.

The intercom system throughout the ship suddenly crackled to life with a soft hiss of static.

"Good evening, distinguished guests of the Celestine," A deep voice announced. "This is Captain Jonathan Hawlone speaking. I am pleased to welcome you aboard the finest luxury cruise vessel in the Sentinal Seas."

The captain’s voice was professional.

"We will be departing from Caldena Port momentarily..." Captain Hawthorne continued. "Our journey will take us through the Azure Corridor and along the Sunset Coast to the Ivory Island before returning in twelve days’ time. The weather forecast is excellent, with clear skies and calm seas expected. Thank you..."

The intercom clicked off and immediately, the ship moved.

First, there was a low rumble with the sound of massive engines coming to life deep in the vessel’s hull. The vibration traveled upward, a gentle tremor that announced the Celestine’s awakening then came the horn.

A deep blast that echoed across the port announcing their departure. The sound was both commanding and majestic and on the dock below, port workers unhooked the massive mooring lines.

The thick ropes were hauled back aboard by automated winches as the ship’s bow thrusters engaged with a powerful surge of water, pushing the vessel away from the pier. From above, the movement seemed slow but 200,000 tons of luxury was now in motion.

Tugboats moved into position with their smaller engines guiding the Celestine through the narrow harbor channel. Their horns answered the cruise ship’s blast in traditional maritime farewell.

The Celestine turned slowly as her hull cut through the calm harbor water. The city lights of Caldena reflected off the dark surface, creating ribbons of gold and silver that rippled in the ship’s wake and as the vessel cleared the harbor breakwater, she began to pick up speed.

The bow cut through the gentle swells with barely a shudder as the stabilizers were already compensating. On shore, a few people had gathered to watch... they always did as they were drawn by the spectacle. Some waved, though the passengers were too far to see.

The Celestine’s lights blazed against the darkening sky with hundreds of windows glowing like stars. The upper decks were illuminated with decorative lighting that traced the ship’s elegant lines, making her look like a floating palace.

The sun had fully set now, and the ship sailed into the twilight, leaving a trail of churning white water behind her.

The Celestine had set sail...