Nico grabbed a piece from the lamb rack and dug his cutlery into it. The meat gave way the moment his knife touched it, tender all the way through. He chewed slowly, eyes drifting across the table toward his wives.
Mira barely touched her food. A truffle dish sat untouched on her plate, and Nico suspected the stalling was deliberate.
Kira had served herself some pasta, eating slowly, the way someone eats when hunger has beaten them into accepting a meal they didn’t really want.
Nira, meanwhile, wasn’t eating so much as devouring. She cleared her truffle dish before either of the others made it halfway through theirs, then moved straight on to the oysters.
Watching her eat gave him a strange kind of satisfaction he couldn’t quite explain. A smirk crept onto his lips before he caught it and smoothed it away.
He figured the other two wouldn’t loosen up until he left the room, a discomfort they’d made obvious by choosing seats as far from him as the table allowed.
He finished his lamb, set his cutlery down gently, and rose from his seat with his wine glass still in hand.
"I’ll send the house runner to go get you some new clothes." He said it after the last sip left his glass. "Figured you’d need something to wear while you’re here."
Their real clothes were probably ash now, gone in the explosion he’d set the night before.
They didn’t know that yet, however. Kira was still furious over being forced to leave most of their luggage behind at the bungalow.
Which was probably why her sour expression cracked the instant he said those words.
"How about we just go ourselves?" She asked, stirring her spoon through the pasta. "Fashion is a delicate skill, and no offense, but I don’t think your staff has any of that. I mean, asides the suits."
Nico’s face hardened. "You girls saw what happened yesterday. I can’t let you leave the building without my direct supervision."
"And I don’t see you running off to attend to some crime work or something."
He did have plans for the day, as it happened. Checking on his larger districts, confirming he still held territory over them, maybe even extending the shadow domain into a few of them while he was there.
He opened his mouth to explain exactly that. What came out instead was something else entirely.
"Alright, fine." He sighed, hands raised in surrender. "Finish eating and get dressed. I’ll be waiting."
He returned to his room and pulled on a black suit, checking the fit in the mirror.
He’d nearly turned away from his own reflection when Kira’s comment about dress culture came back to him, uninvited and lingering.
Eventually he gave in, shed the suit, and dug through his wardrobe for something less formal. All he found were plain office shirts and stiff suit coats.
’I swear I had something different here—’
He finally found it shoved at the back, a flowery red silk shirt he hadn’t touched in years.
His ex-girlfriend had given it to him before she died. Everything else of hers he’d thrown out over time. This one thing, for some reason, he’d kept.
He pulled it on and stepped to the mirror to fix the buttons. Mid-motion, the system screen flickered to life in front of him.
[Investment Detected]
[Objective: Support household nutrition by funding quality meals and daily essentials.]
[Return Multiplier: [300x]]
Returns Calculated:
→ Chef’s Cooking Skill Upgraded — Skilled → Veteran Level: Improved meal quality, variety, efficiency, and mastery of every "what’s for dinner?" crisis.
→ Household HP Increased — [+1000]: Better-fed, healthier, and more resilient household members.
→ Cooking Budget Returned — [100x]: Initial food investment recovered through long-term value, reduced waste, and excellent home cooking.
Calculating Budget...
Budget Calculated: $5,000
Projected Returns: $500,000
[Status: Investment successful. Family nourishment buff permanently activated.]
______________
He’d barely processed the number behind those returns when his phone buzzed against the bed. He crossed the room, picked it up, and froze the second the screen lit up.
A credit notification from his bank stared back at him.
[TRF: ****]
[AMOUNT: 500,000 DOLLARS]
[SENDER: UNKNOWN]
He stood there for a long moment, thumb hovering over the notification like he’d forgotten what fingers were for.
The shock wasn’t really about the money landing in his account. It was the sheer scale of luck this system seemed to run on, if luck was even the right word for something that could turn fiction into a functioning income stream.
’This system really means business.’
That settled it. He wasn’t going to keep sleeping on this thing’s advantages.
Investing in his wives meant paychecks like this one, better meals cooked in-house, tighter protection around all three of them, and an awakening he’d long since assumed had passed him by in favor of his brothers.
He wondered how many more perks were waiting to surface.
***
An hour later, Nico headed downstairs. His wives had already finished dressing by the time he caught up with them near the entrance.
Mira wore a deep red, floor-length slip dress in dusty sage. Silk, no zippers, just thin straps and a loose cut that moved with her and pooled softly around her ankles.
Kira had chosen a black mini dress, sharp at the shoulders, a corset-style bodice, and an asymmetrical hem cut high on one thigh. Sexy was the only word that came to Nico’s mind.
Nira kept it simplest. A plain white cotton dress, no embroidery, no cutouts. Clean lines, a round neck, short sleeves, and two pockets that gave the whole thing a practical edge.
For a second, he met Nira’s eyes and she smiled. He couldn’t tell if it was genuine approval or amusement at the sight of him in a flowery shirt.
Either way, he decided not to question it.
Lucas led the girls to a waiting Rolls Royce and settled them comfortably into the back. Nico took the front seat while Lucas slid behind the wheel.
Two entourage cars flanked them, packed with Nico’s bodyguards. Lucas hit the ignition, and the engine rumbled awake beneath them.
Then he lifted his com phone and gave the signal.
"The red eagle is ready to move."
At the command, the Mercedes ahead of them eased forward and led the convoy out of the compound.