Demonic Pornstar System novel Chapter 910

Chapter 910: Mistake

"...It was a figure of speech, Mother."

"I know," she spoke with a poker face, yet her eyes carried a strong glint.

They walked on. Somewhere behind the main building, Luna’s voice carried over the construction noise, arguing with Calypso about the correct way to arrange the interview tables for tomorrow’s onslaught.

In under an hour, the application count had climbed past a million, so Alexandra had stopped refreshing it and started laminating signs instead.

Vespera was quiet for a dozen steps, which from her was a paragraph.

"Nyx, Aria, and Bastet... You sent them into rooms full of men who have spent thirty years eating young guilds alive."

"I didn’t send them anywhere. They volunteered and I agreed."

"Do you think letting those three go without help was a good idea?"

Kaiden smiled, and there was nothing in it he intended to explain. Mysterious, even.

"I do."

His mother studied his profile for a long moment, the way she’d studied contract clauses that were about to disappoint someone, then faced forward again. If there was the beginning of a smirk on her lips, no one could prove it.

...

On the fortieth floor of the Corvant Group tower, Gerald Whitmore, Chief Brand Officer, was feeling good about the afternoon.

The conference room had been prepped within twenty minutes of Eclipse’s confirmation.

The pitch deck and the mock merchandise had existed for two days already, a full prototype lifestyle line with each Sinner’s name attached, built and polished while Corvant waited for exactly this call.

Legal had the contract draft printed and bound, all eighty-one pages of it, with the important parts distributed across the appendices where important parts belonged.

"Confirming again," said Harris from Legal, "the Regent is not attending?"

"Not attending." Whitmore allowed himself the satisfaction he’d been suppressing since the confirmation email. "We get the little girls."

The relief around the table was subtle but unanimous. Nobody at Corvant had been eager to deal with the Shadow Monarch; she had a reputation in rooms like this one.

The girls, though. The girls were streamers. Twenty-somethings who’d gotten famous punching monsters on camera and fucking like rabbits afterward, and now they were playing at running a business.

Powerful? Terrifyingly. But power didn’t read contracts.

"They’re kids with a brand," Whitmore told the table, snickering. "Our job is to be their friendly guide into the corporate world. Warm, generous, protective."

He tapped the bound contract. "And by the time anyone with a law degree reads appendix C, the ink will be six months dry."

Harris cleared his throat. "One note. Slide nine’s tagline is ’A New Dawn in Lifestyle Branding.’ Given, ah. Recent events. The optics."

"Fix it after. They won’t be looking at taglines."

The intercom chimed. They were here.

They came in like weather systems.

The pink-haired one, Nyx, entered first, and Whitmore’s brain filed her instantly under manageable: friendly greeting, soft smile, curves that explained about forty percent of the Sinners’ subscriber statistics on their own.

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