Five carefully placed honey traps, each with its own flavor, lined his path.
The first four: Katherine, the youthful athletic sweetheart; Miu Kobayashi, the brilliant Asian beauty with a forbidden allure; Samantha, the sun-kissed and wild Black beauty; and Abby, with her impossibly curvy bombshell figure.
Each one was tailored to a different one of his tastes.
The lineup was practically a targeted operation: “Campus Belles 101.” He handled them all with ease.
He met Katherine’s adoration with easy humor, gave Miu Kobayashi sharp guidance in their academic talk, matched Samantha’s energy, and graciously accepted Abby’s “request for help,” genuinely putting in the effort.
Hawk savored the carefully prepared “feast” laid out for him, accepting it all while seeing right through it and saying nothing.
As long as they weren’t sick…
And especially the last one, Vivian, the actuarial science teacher.
That woman was definitely not just anyone.
The proof was right there on her face.
Even if she wasn’t Mera, the Sea Queen, she had to be some other major player.
He made a mental note of her name and planned to look her up once he got back.
That afternoon, with the sunlight just right, Hawk knocked on Professor Amelia’s office door.
Unlike Professor Finch’s austere office, Professor Amelia’s was bright and spacious, full of lush green plants, with a faint smell of baked goods in the air.
“Ah, here comes our ‘eye of the financial storm.'” Professor Amelia set down her delicate bone china teacup.
Dressed in a well-tailored off-white suit, she smiled warmly.
“How did Finch’s little ‘moral trial’ go this morning?
Did he nail you to a cross?” Hawk plopped down on the sofa across from her and picked up a sweet cookie she offered him.
“You follow the gossip too, Professor?
Professor Finch must have a touch of indigestion.” Amelia let out a light laugh full of mature charm.
“Indigestion?
He was choking on the way you play.
Still, I like that edge of yours.
Old man Finch’s questions were truly…
full of pedantic, academic naivety.” She looked away from Hawk, her slender fingers unconsciously winding around the dark blue ribbon tied around the neck of a port bottle.
It coiled and uncoiled between her pale fingers like a restless snake.
Hawk did not respond; he simply strolled to the desk, picked up an empty glass, and poured himself some bourbon.
After a long moment, Amelia finally turned back to face him.
Light caught her dark brown eyes, a mix of wisdom and a hint of indescribable madness.
“The capital market,” she said, “its laws are never moral scriptures written on parchment, but inscriptions etched on the victor’s blade, Hawk.” “Some people, like you,” her voice dropped, rough as sandpaper, “are born knowing how to make capital flow more turbulent and reckless.” Amelia stood, the tip of her high heel sliding silently across the carpet before slowly rubbing against Hawk’s perfectly tailored trouser leg.
The faint friction could be felt even through the fine worsted wool.
Hawk turned slowly and saw interest and curiosity flickering in Amelia’s eyes.
“Frankly, Hawk, you tore into that fat prize, Bates Capital, beautifully.
But the old foxes on Wall Street are all wondering: who will be the next appetizer to whet your appetite?” Hawk casually picked up a cookie and met her burning gaze.
“A snack?” The corner of his mouth curled in a faintly cynical smile.
“Professor, in this capital game, you’re the professional, not me.
And…
that CEO position at Rhine Capital I mentioned earlier?
That would be far more exciting than being a university professor.” Hawk needed a financial expert to run Rhine Capital, someone who was not only experienced but bold, aggressive, and reckless, a true financial maniac.
In his eyes, Amelia was the perfect fit.
Andy was a business genius, but her strength lay in being well-rounded, steady, and flawless, meticulous in every detail.
In the two years since taking over, she had built the entire Lane Group into an impregnable fortress.
But asking her to dominate the financial markets would be stretching her too thin; her strengths were business, operations, management, finance, and risk control.
At Hawk’s renewed invitation, a spark lit in Amelia’s eyes.
Her high heel pressed against his upper thigh as she leaned in closer.
“Hawk, since Bates Capital collapsed, Wall Street says you’re cold and precise, like a machine.” Her red lips parted slightly, her warm breath grazing his ear.
“Tell me, which chessboard do you plan to make your next move on?” Hawk looked down at her face, so close and full of intelligence and charm, and held up his hands helplessly.
“Professor, I don’t have a target at the moment.
I went after Bates Capital over a personal grudge, really…” Then he lowered his voice.
“But nothing’s set in stone.
We could…
compare notes in depth, Professor?” Amelia stared at his face.
The strange fire in her eyes suddenly flared hotter, as if someone had thrown dry wood on the fire.
She lunged forward into Hawk’s arms with fierce determination, her hands clutching the front of his expensive shirt.
“Don’t call me Professor!” she growled through gritted teeth, her hot breath washing over his jaw, laced with the rich, sweet scent of port.
“With you, I’m not that damned professor!” She rose up on tiptoe and pressed her lips hard against his prominent Adam’s apple, her canines leaving a faint, sharp sting.
“Tell me!” Her voice cracked and shook violently with restrained madness, her body pressed tight against his through the thin fabric of their clothes.
“Bates Capital was just the appetizer, wasn’t it?
Tell me, Hawk…
who are you going to devour next?” Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting dappled light and shadow between the two of them.