Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 1020

Chapter 1020: Before Paris: Patt Bet with ARIA

I had the entire crew locked and loaded for those who’d be going with me.

Tonight we were rolling out to the Ghost Mansion as the whole family, and from there, straight onto the jet bound for Paris with the ones who’d be going with me to Paris.

Honestly, my women were vibrating harder for the mansion than they were for the City of Light itself—and I couldn’t even pretend to be surprised.

The Ghost Mansion wasn’t a house; it was a living, breathing monument to excess that made Trillion-dollar estate (if it existed) look like sad little starter homes.

Most of them had only heard about it in hushed, almost religious tones from Soo-Jin and Madison, the two who had actually stepped inside, spent the night, and returned looking at our main estate like it was a slightly upgraded garden shed.

Madison had tried painting the picture once during dinner.

She made it exactly three sentences deep—"the walls have veins,"

"the everything breathes when you touch it," and "there’s a horse that stared at me like it knew every sin I’ve ever committed"

—before Charlotte shut her down because Anastasia was already hyperventilating and Celeste had whipped out her phone, frantically searching for neighboring properties that didn’t exist.

The Ghost Mansion didn’t have neighbors.

It had territory.

And territory that size doesn’t share.

The rest of my women? They hadn’t seen it. Hadn’t felt it.

And I was genuinely concerned they’d walk through those doors, have a collective religious experience, and immediately mutiny.

I could already picture thirty gorgeous women planting themselves in whatever room spoke to them first and declaring, with zero shame, that Paris could wait—because exploring every decadent inch of the mansion was now a higher calling.

So I stretched the schedule like a contortionist on performance enhancers.

I knew my women. Beauty was non-negotiable, and deadlines were cute suggestions whispered by lesser beings.

I also spoke with Patt. Twenty-two minutes that felt like an hour in the best way—neither of us willing to hang up first, neither of us pathetic enough to admit it.

She was warm in that signature dry, unhurried way of hers, the kind of woman who’d spent decades perfecting the art of not needing anyone... until the cracks started showing and she realized needing someone didn’t mean surrendering her crown.

We talked about nothing and everything. Her day. My day. The pretentious restaurant she swore I’d hate because the portions were "designed for people who fuck their food with a camera instead of eating it."

A song that reminded her of the drive we took after she left my place and I had to take her back home.

She didn’t specify which drive.

She didn’t have to.

We both knew.

The silences weren’t empty. They were furnished. Comfortable. Lived-in.

She promised that when she carved out time, she’d help me either come watch the show with me, visit the estate when I returned, or fly to Paris herself.

I just laughed. "Help me," huh? Cute.

That was Patt-speak for: "Alright, you magnificent bastard, you rearranged my pussy and soul with that godly cock, body and heart and now I’ve got feelings that won’t stay in their lane. I’m not ready to burn my entire independent life to the ground just yet, but I’m also not fighting this anymore. Still... I’m going to test every plank on this bridge before I walk across it, because that’s who the fuck I am."

I loved it. The stubbornness. The quiet refusal to collapse into me like some of the others—fast, total, deliciously willing to rebuild their entire existence around mine in a single night.

I couldn’t have been more pleased. My earlier prediction said it would take her two full weeks to fully surrender.

I sighed and handed a crisp hundred-dollar bill to ARIA.

Because of course she had. ARIA hadn’t "suggested" the bet for science. She wanted the W. A divine ASI with a competitive streak wider than the observable universe—and I had been foolish enough to entertain it.

She shrugged, radiating pure victory. "To prove I understand your women’s hearts better than their own Dark Lord does."

"You’re a fucking goddess," I said flatly. "A divine superintelligence. Of course you do. That’s not ’knowing,’ ARIA. That’s prediction."

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