’I can’t believe I actually fell asleep on that woman’s lap,’ Wren thought as he closed the door of his suite behind him with a soft click.

He didn’t have anything against Isabel though. She was a beautiful woman and at the end of the day, his aunt though he would need to confirm if he actually had a half-sister, not that she had any reason to lie to him in the first place.

’Would it be available on Infosphere?’ Wren wondered, it was the most popular search engine in the world after all.

Wren sighed and looked around his personal suite. It wasn’t as luxurious as the one Isabel had made him lay on her lap in, but it was good nonetheless since it was a VIP room.

The suite was spacious and elegant, decorated in cream tones. A massive king-sized bed dominated the center, covered in silk sheets. To the right was a sitting area with a plush leather sofa and armchair around a glass coffee table.

The floor was polished hardwood with thick carpet and against the wall was a Smart TV that was paper-thin and mounted above a sleek console.

The bathroom door was ajar, showing marble tiles and a rainfall shower but what caught his attention was the small silver bell on the nightstand. It was identical to the one from Isabel’s room... for calling the butlers.

Wren sat down on the bed and sank into it.

"This is really comfortable." he muttered out loud. The mattress seemed to mold perfectly to his body, it was not too soft nor was it too firm.

He laid back across it and noticed a piece of paper on the pillow that he’d missed before. Wren lifted the paper. It was a note, written in elegant handwriting.

[Master Wren,

This is Alfred writing to inform you that all of your personal belongings have been properly arranged within the wardrobe, organized by category and color coordination. Your suitcase has been stored at the bottom compartment for your convenience.

Should you require any assistance during your stay aboard the Celestine, please do not hesitate to ring the bell at your bedside. I am at your service at all hours.

I would also like to extend an invitation on behalf of Lady Isabel Merritt to join the evening’s luxury tour of the Celestine’s premium facilities, which will commence at 6:00 PM sharp. Lady Leah and the other distinguished guests will be in attendance. Following the tour, a formal dinner will be served in the Grand Atlantis Dining Hall at 8:00 PM. Dress code is black tie formal.

I do hope you will consider attending, as Lady Isabel has expressed interest in your presence.

Respectfully yours,

Alfred.. Head Butler, Merritt Estate]

Wren threw the paper aside and sighed with his head resting against the pillow.

’I don’t feel like going on a tour...’ Wren thought, staring up at the ceiling. ’What do you think, Nyx?’

A blue screen materialized in front of his face.

[Honestly, Host, I think you need to take a walk to clear your head. Would you like me to run research on your half-sister?]

"..."

Wren was silent for a bit.

He wasn’t that affected by all of this or at least, that’s what he told himself but thinking that the time that could have been spent looking after his mother while she was dying, the time that could have been spent trying to keep Langford Lodge afloat... was instead spent on another woman and their kid.

It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Yes." Wren said finally and immediately, the blue screen flickered.

[Compiling Data...]

Considering that Nyx knew Charlotte had a Fansly account when they first met, Wren didn’t expect information gathering to be a problem.

’I also need to seduce a celebrity within these 12 days...’ Wren thought while letting out another sigh. He was sighing a lot these days.

’What kind of celebrities can I even go after? I could flex that I’m a VIP guest, but that would only take me so far.’

If he was asked about his source of income, what was he meant to say? That he seduced married women for a living? That made him sound like a pornstar or a fuckboy. Well, technically he was similar to a fuckboy, but he didn’t want to sound like it.

[Data has been compiled.]

Wren blinked as a screen formed in front of his face that was wider than usual and formatted like a news article.

[BREAKING BUSINESS NEWS]

[According to the latest reports from Sentinal Financial Times, the owner of Langford Industries... prominent business magnate Nickolas Langford has officially announced the appointment of a new heir to the multinational corporation.]

[The heir has been identified as Mediah Langford, age 19, whose face has not been made public at this time. Sources close to the family confirm that Miss Langford is currently undergoing extensive training in business operations and corporate management under her father’s direct supervision.]

[Langford Industries, valued at approximately 8.7 billion credits, operates across seventeen countries with primary holdings in real estate development, luxury hospitality, and international trade. The announcement has sent ripples through the business community, with many industry analysts speculating about the company’s future direction under new leadership.]

[When asked about his decision, Nickolas Langford stated: "My daughter has shown exceptional aptitude for business strategy and possesses the vision necessary to lead Langford Industries into the next generation. I have complete confidence in her abilities."]

[Miss Mediah Langford was unavailable for comment.]

There was more information below, but Wren dismissed the screen with a sigh.

His father’s face had been there in the article as expected... a professional headshot of a stern-looking man in an expensive suit and they really looked nothing alike, the man had jet black hair slicked back, sharp features and cold eyes that seemed to calculate the worth of everything they looked at.

Wren had inherited his blond hair from his mother after all. Along with her eyes, her smile, and apparently her tendency to get screwed over by the same man.

’Nineteen, huh?’ Wren thought.

The girl was young, but it really did coincide around the time that his mother had first been diagnosed with the illness... when his father had conveniently been "out of the country" for extended periods.

’Whatever. I need to clear my head.’

[Host, why don’t you take a walk around the ship?~ Who knows, you might find a pretty celebrity girl who also doesn’t want to go to that boring tour and dinner down below~]

Wren raised an eyebrow at the screen.

’Since you say that, I assume you already have a target in mind?’

[Maaaaybe~]

Wren stood up and walked over to the luxury wardrobe, pulling open the polished wooden doors. Inside, all of his clothes were laid out perfectly... shirts organized by color, pants hung, even his new socks were paired and arranged in a drawer.

Alfred really didn’t mess around.

’Hey Nyx, can you help me pick some good ones out to look stunning enough? I plan to shower and then we go out there, just in case we find a target on the way.’

[Hehe~ Leave it all to me, Host! I’ll make you look like a celebrity yourself with your limited wardrobe!]

...

Wren stepped out of his room about forty minutes later, adjusting the collar of his clothes.

Nyx had been going on about "looking like a celebrity" but he looked pretty minimal. He’d gone with a fitted black turtleneck that hugged his frame, paired with dark gray tailored trousers over leather boots. His hair was styled casually too...

’But then again, I really don’t mind.’ Wren thought while looking left and right down the corridor.

As long as he could avoid that tour and dinner, he was glad about it. He didn’t want Leah, Diana, or the others seeing him while he was bummed out and ruining the vibe they had going.

’I guess we should just explore, right?’ Wren thought and began walking.

The hallways were quite empty save for a few maids that moved silently through the corridors, nodding politely as he passed. The carpet muffled his footsteps as soft classical music played from hidden speakers somewhere in the walls.

Wren looked out one of the massive windows as he walked, seeing the dark blue sea stretching endlessly around the ship.

The sun had set completely now, and the ocean reflected the lights from the Celestine like scattered diamonds on black velvet.

He paused at one particularly large window, taking in the view.

"Beautiful."

Two voices spoke at the exact same time.

Wren turned to see who else had spoken, and standing just a few feet away was the same woman from before... the one in the hood who’d been covering her face at the port, and again when they’d boarded.

She was still wearing it with the fabric drawn up to hide most of her features.

"Oh, you again," Wren said with a small wave and a friendly smile. "How are you doing?"

The woman drew her hood around her face even more, pulling the fabric tighter as if trying to disappear into it.

"You’re hiding your face," Wren observed, keeping his tone light and non-judgmental. "Did something happen, or...?"

"I just don’t want anyone to see my face." she said quietly from inside the hood. Her voice was soft, it was almost a squeak.

"Is that why you’re not going to the tour and dinner downstairs?" Wren asked with a small smile and the woman let out a nod then she tilted her head slightly.

"Why aren’t you going?"

Wren looked back out the window at the endless ocean.

"I’m just trying to clear my head," Wren said honestly. "Nothing more."

The woman nodded, letting out a small "Mm" sound because she understood.

She had come all the way onto the Celestine to get a twelve-day break from her boyfriend who hadn’t noticed yet because he was filming something for a movie. But by the time he did notice, she would be long gone at least for a little while.

Just twelve days of peace... Twelve days of being nobody... Twelve days without the expectations and the constant pressure.

Was that too much to ask?

Wren then looked at her with a genuine smile.

"Hey, would you want to grab coffee or something?" Wren asked. "I know this is random, but I’ve been feeling kind of isolated since I got on the ship. Everyone else seems to be part of groups or families, and I’m just... here though my group is downstairs. It’d be nice to talk to someone who isn’t trying to network or impress anyone, you know?"

He gestured vaguely down the hallway.

"Plus, I feel like I owe you for bumping into you back at the port..." Wren added. "You almost dropped your stuff because of me."

The woman hesitated.

"It’s really not needed." she said softly.

"I insist," Wren said with an easy smile. "Come on, just coffee. Or tea. Or whatever you want. No pressure and no expectations. Just two people who don’t want to go to that formal dinner thing having a drink and maybe some conversation?"

He could see her considering it beneath the hood. Finally, she nodded slowly.

"If you insist," she said quietly. "Then... fine. We can go."

Wren’s smile widened. He turned to one of the maids who was passing by with fresh linens.

"Excuse me," Wren said politely. "Could you point us in the direction of a cafe that serves coffee? Preferably one that’s not downstairs near the dining hall?"

The maid bowed slightly.

"Of course, sir. The Azure Lounge is located on Deck 7, forward section. It’s quite private at this hour and has an excellent selection of beverages and light refreshments."

"Perfect. Thank you."

...

Wren and the mystery woman entered the Azure Lounge a few minutes later.

It was a wide, elegant space with sleek modern furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a spectacular view of the dark sea. The ocean had been lit up by the lights along the exterior of the Celestine, creating shimmering reflections on the water’s surface.

This was one of the many lounges available on the ship, and there were only a few other people here apart from the staff... guests who also seemed to be avoiding the formal dinner downstairs.

Wren and the woman sat down at a table near the windows. Immediately, a butler in a crisp white uniform approached them.

"Good evening," the butler said with professional warmth. "What may I serve you this evening?"

"I’d like coffee..." Wren said.

That sounded like the most sophisticated thing to drink on a luxury cruise ship, right? Coffee was safe and professional.

The butler turned to the woman.

"And for you, miss?"

"Cold orange juice, please..." she said from beneath her hood.

The butler bowed slightly and departed. He returned quickly with a silver tray carrying both drinks. He placed the coffee in front of Wren and the orange juice in front of the woman precisely.

"Please enjoy. Ring if you require anything further."

Then he was gone.

Wren took hold of the coffee cup and the aroma hit him immediately... it smelled strong, bitter, and slightly acidic. The Coffee irked his nose.

The woman looked up at him from underneath her hoodie.

"Aren’t you going to drink it?" she asked then, with a hint of amusement in her voice, "Have you even had coffee before?"

"Of course I have," Wren said defensively then he took a sip.

The bitter liquid hit his tongue and he immediately regretted every decision that had led him to this moment. He swallowed with visible effort, then set the cup down and coughed into his fist.

"See?" Wren said, his voice slightly strained. "I have."

She laughed.

"I don’t even like coffee..." she admitted. "Juice is the way to go."

She lifted her glass carefully into her hoodie which was an impressive feat of coordination and took a drink. When she set it down, Wren could hear the satisfaction in her voice.

"Much better than coffee..." she said.

There was a moment of comfortable silence then she tilted her head, studying him from within the shadows of her hood.

"Are you into modeling?" she asked suddenly and Wren raised an eyebrow.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"I—I—I..." she stuttered slightly. "I think you look really handsome. Like, really handsome. And since you are, I would’ve thought I’d see you on a billboard or two by now."

Wren smiled, he was genuinely flattered.

"That’s very kind of you to say," Wren said. "But no, I don’t really have plans to be a model."

The woman let out what sounded like a sigh of relief.

"Well, you see," she began, her voice becoming slightly more animated. "my boyfriend is a model and he has this whole community of these guys and they’re all so obsessed with appearances and—"

RING!

Her phone rang loudly in her pocket, cutting her off mid-sentence.

Wren couldn’t see her face, but he saw the way her entire body language changed. The warmth, the relaxation, the genuine conversation they’d been having... all of it sank completely, replaced by visible tension.

She pulled out her phone with a trembling hand.

"My boyfriend’s calling..." she said quietly. "Hold on."

She stood up and walked to the corner of the lounge, answering the call as she went.

"Hello?" she said softly. Even from across the room, Wren could hear the barking.

The man on the other end wasn’t talking... he was yelling aggressively.

"I’m fine, I just—"

More yelling.

"No, I told you I needed—"

More yelling...

The woman’s shoulders hunched. She was trembling, trying to make herself smaller, as if that would somehow make the verbal assault less harsh.

Wren watched with a neutral expression.

’So not only is she probably very famous,’ Wren thought, ’but she has a boyfriend too?’

He grinned.

’Though I need to see her face...’

A blue screen materialized in front of him.

[??? has been registered as a Target.]

Wren’s grin widened.

... This woman was now a target and for the duration of the Celestine’s cruise, from now until they headed back to Caldena in twelve days, Wren would try his hardest to seduce her.