Ethan Black and Olivia Harper were still catching their breath in her Crestview Estates villa, the USB scholarship essay sent with seconds to spare. Olivia, cheeks still pink from the accidental bed-tackle hug, plugged the USB into her laptop, fingers flying. Ethan checked his watch: 10:59 a.m. "Olivia, you've got, like, 10 seconds," he said, leaning over her shoulder.
"Got it!" Olivia hit Send at 10:59:57, collapsing back in her chair. "Holy crap, that was closer than my last Netflix binge." She wiped sweat from her brow, grinning at Ethan. "You're my superhero, Black. If you hadn't found that USB, six months of my soul would've been yeeted into the void."
Ethan chuckled, plopping onto a neon-pink chair. "Just doing my cardio for the day. You owe me a coffee, though—maybe a whole Starbucks franchise." Olivia laughed, but her eyes flicked to her open closet, stuffed with clothes. Her face flushed again. "Oh no, you saw my laundry chaos, didn't you? This is mortifying." She bolted up, slamming the closet shut like it held state secrets.
"Relax," Ethan teased. "I've seen worse. My cousin Emma's room looks like a thrift store explosion." Olivia groaned, but before she could fire back, the front door creaked open. Her eyes widened. "Crap, Ethan, my mom's back!" she hissed, panic mode activated. "Stay here, don't move, I'll handle it!"
She darted out, shutting her bedroom door. Ethan blinked, alone in the pink paradise. "Wait, what?" he muttered. "I'm just here for a USB, not a spy mission." Hiding felt sketchy—like he and Olivia were pulling a heist, not saving her scholarship. If Olivia's mom, Mrs. Harper, caught him in her daughter's room, it'd look like a rom-com gone wrong. "Should've just walked out with her," he groaned, rubbing his temples.
Downstairs, Olivia was sweating bullets, greeting her mom, Lauren Harper, with a too-bright smile. "Hey, Mom! You're back early!"
Lauren, a sharp-eyed interior designer, raised a brow at Olivia's sweaty forehead. "You okay, honey? You look like you ran a marathon."
"Just… excited about my essay!" Olivia lied, wiping her face. "Oh, uh, I saw one of your koi fish looking wonky in the backyard pond. You should check it out."
Lauren's eyes narrowed—she loved her koi like they were family. "Wonky? Oh, heck no." She dropped her purse and headed for the backyard. Olivia sprinted upstairs, bursting into her room. "Ethan, go, now! Mom's distracted, but she's got ninja instincts!"
Ethan stood, smirking. "This is some Mission: Impossible nonsense, you know that, right? We're not Bonnie and Clyde."
"Less talking, more moving!" Olivia hissed, shoving him toward the stairs. They tiptoed down, Ethan stifling a laugh at their cartoonish sneaking. They were inches from the front door when—creak—the back door opened. Lauren's voice echoed: "Olivia, the koi are fine! What's with you today?"
Ethan spun around, back to the front door, playing it cool. Olivia froze, heart in her throat, as Lauren walked in, spotting Ethan. "Ethan Black?" she said, surprised. "What're you doing here?"
Ethan, smooth as butter, turned with a grin. "Hey, Mrs. Harper! Just swung by to drop off some class notes for Olivia. She opened the door right as you came in." He stood like he'd just arrived, not like he'd been hiding in her daughter's room.
Lauren nodded, buying it. "Well, that's sweet of you. Come, sit! Have some fruit." She waved him to the couch, grabbing a bowl of apples and bananas. Olivia exhaled, shooting Ethan a you're a genius look. "Thanks, Mrs. Harper," Ethan said, taking a banana and peeling it like he hadn't just dodged a parental landmine.
"I'll let you kids chat," Lauren said, grabbing fish food and heading back to her koi. "Don't leave without saying goodbye, Ethan!"
Olivia slumped onto the couch, whispering, "You're a freaking wizard. I was about to combust."
Ethan shrugged, munching his banana. "All in a day's work. But next time, let's skip the covert ops." Olivia laughed, but her phone buzzed—a text from Emma: Heard you and Ethan had a moment. Spill the tea! Olivia's face went red again, and she shoved her phone away.
Ethan finished his fruit, standing. "Gotta bounce, Olivia. Let me know when that coffee date's happening."
"Deal," she said, walking him out. As Ethan reached his Koenigsegg Agera, Lauren reappeared, waving. "Ethan, stay for lunch! I'm making tacos!"
"Next time, Mrs. Harper," Ethan called, sliding into his car. "Tacos are my weakness."
Lauren watched them, a sly smile creeping in as Olivia shut the door. She'd clocked Olivia's nerves and Ethan's Agera parked out front from the start. "Those two think I'm clueless," she muttered, eyeing Olivia's bedroom upstairs. "Kids these days move fast. Time for a mom-daughter chat." She wasn't mad—Ethan seemed solid—but if he was boyfriend material, he'd better make it official with a proper visit.
Ethan peeled out, chuckling at the chaos. But his mood shifted as he hit the highway. His phone buzzed—a Monthly Pay $3,000, I'm the World's Richest game alert:
[Alert: Vortex Media Smear Campaign Targets StarPulse and Ethan Black. Respond?]
Hours later, X was ablaze with viral videos from Vanessa Steele, now Vortex Media's golden girl. Titled "StarPulse's Shady CEO Exposed!", they painted Ethan as a sleazy exec forcing female employees to "entertain" clients. "Ethan Black's no hero," Vanessa sneered in one clip, eyes glinting. "He's a predator hiding behind a $500M empire." Vortex, led by Monica Vance, had spread the videos through Westfield's elite circles, aiming to tank StarPulse's rep and push it out of the city.
The backlash was brutal. #CancelStarPulse trended at 300K likes, with comments like, "Ethan Black's a creep!" and "StarPulse is toast." Monica had pulled strings, getting a $5B real estate mogul, Victor Lang, to amplify the smears, drowning out StarPulse's defenses. Claire Hudson, StarPulse's COO, tried countering on X, posting, "These are lies. Ethan's clean, and we're suing." But Vortex's bots swarmed, labeling her a "corporate shill."
StarPulse's board was in panic mode, brainstorming fixes. "We need Ethan," one exec urged Claire. She hesitated—she'd hoped to handle it without bugging the boss. "We'll try one more day," she said. "If we can't stop the bleeding, Ethan's our last shot."
The next morning, Claire called Ethan. "Boss, you free tonight? Big gala at Westfield's Skyline Villa. Every CEO and whale in town's invited, and you're on the list. Invite's at the office."
"I'm in," Ethan said, sensing a chance to flip the narrative. "Anything else?"
Claire sighed. "Yeah… Vanessa's smear videos. They're killing us. We've tried everything—PR, X posts, legal threats. Nothing's sticking. Vortex is too strong."
"Vortex, huh?" Ethan said, eyes narrowing. "Monica Vance and Vanessa Steele. I'll handle it." He hung up, the game pinging:
[Challenge: Neutralize Vortex Smear at Gala. Restore StarPulse's Honor.]
[Reward: $20M Cash + Vortex Media Weakness Exposed]
[Accept? Y/N]
Ethan hit Yes. Vanessa's lies, tied to Lucas Kane's Syndicate link from Chapter 39, were no coincidence. This was war.
That evening, Ethan swung by StarPulse's HQ in his Agera, grabbing the gala invite. Claire, looking frazzled, rode shotgun as they headed to Skyline Villa. "Vortex is out for blood," she said. "Monica's got Victor Lang in her pocket. We're radioactive right now."
"Let 'em talk," Ethan said. "They'll choke on their own lies tonight."
At the gala, a $50M mansion buzzing with Westfield's elite, Ethan and Claire's arrival barely stirred the crowd. CEOs and heiresses whispered, eyeing them like lepers. "That's the StarPulse guy," one mogul muttered. "Heard he's a creep." Ethan kept his cool, scanning the room. These vultures didn't care about truth—only power. Vortex was winning, and StarPulse was on the ropes.
Only one guest broke the ice: Tom Bradley, a logistics tycoon and StarPulse's longtime partner. "Ethan, good to see you," Tom said, shaking his hand. "Don't let the noise get to you. Vortex is playing dirty, but I've got your back." Claire nodded gratefully—Tom's $2B firm relied on StarPulse, and he wasn't jumping ship.
Then, the room shifted. Monica Vance, Vortex's CEO, strutted in, Vanessa Steele at her side, both dripping in designer gowns. The crowd swarmed, fawning like they'd spotted Beyoncé. "Monica's untouchable," a tech bro whispered. "Victor Lang's backing her. StarPulse is done." Vanessa locked eyes with Ethan, smirking like she'd already won.
Ethan's phone buzzed—a Syndicate alert: Monica Vance and Victor Lang Planning StarPulse Sabotage. Ethan grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Game on," he muttered. Vanessa and Monica were about to learn why you don't mess with the Money King.