The Imperial Club in Montivacio Global City was a place that whispered luxury and exclusivity—velvet chairs, low jazz notes curling through the air, and an atmosphere where the rich came not to be seen, but to belong. Nathaniel was a member, of course. Tonight, like most Friday nights, he came not for business but to unwind.

He wore a charcoal button-up shirt, the top buttons undone, sleeves rolled back to his elbows. Paired with fitted black trousers, the look balanced ease and authority. He didn’t need to try—his presence carried weight.

“Nice shot, boss!” called Gian, one of his project managers, as the billiard ball rolled cleanly into the corner pocket.

Nathaniel smirked faintly and chalked his cue stick. Around him were the men he trusted most:

Luis Ortega, his sharp-minded Project Director – Engineering & Field Operations.

Marco Santos, his Project Director – Architecture & Design, sharp tongue, and too clever for his own good.

Gian Ramos and Andre Villanueva, his two project managers, both in their early thirties, ambitious and loyal.

They weren’t just his team—they were his inner circle.

The game was less about winning and more about the laughter, the teasing, the plotting of the night.

“So, about the bachelor party,” Andre began with a grin, “Vegas-style? Or we keep it local and go wild in Conacayo?”

“Conacayo,” Gian replied quickly. “Bea will murder me if I disappear to Vegas.”

The table roared with laughter. Nathaniel only shook his head, a low chuckle escaping as he lined up his next shot.

But it didn’t take long before the banter shifted.

“Nate here doesn’t have that problem,” Luis said, aiming at the eight ball. “Guy’s allergic to commitment. Born to play the field.”

“Playboy for life,” Marco chimed in. “You’ll never settle, man.”

Nathaniel only grinned, leaning over the table as he aimed for his next shot. 

“Maybe I just haven’t met the woman worth settling for.”

“Speaking of,” as if on cue, Andre tilted his chin toward the bar. “Look over there. She’s been eyeing you since we came in.”

Nathaniel’s brows arched ever so slightly. He followed the subtle nod and spotted her—a woman at the bar, sleek dress, lips painted in crimson, gaze steady and deliberate. Their eyes met for the briefest moment.

The men laughed. “See? She’s already hooked. Tonight, another conquest.”

Nathaniel only shook his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Well, see about that.” Still, when he looked again, the woman’s eyes were still on him. She was attractive. Very attractive. Maybe…

“Guess who I saw at the Gala last week,” Marco said, twirling his cue stick like he was about to deliver breaking news.

Andre rolled his eyes. “Dude, if this is another flex about you scoring a VIP pass to that celebrity circus, we get it. You’re connected.”

Marco ignored him completely, grinning. “I saw Victoria.”

The cue ball clicked off-center and stopped short. Nathaniel’s brows twitched.

“Victoria?” Gian asked, glancing up from the score sheet.

Marco nodded, excitement lighting his face. “Yeah. You know, the one featured on DragonStream—the heiress series or something?”

Luis straightened, curiosity piqued. “Wait, you mean Victoria Salvatierra? The heiress of Salvatierra & Co.?”

“The one and only,” Marco confirmed, setting his cue aside. “She was there with Alexandra Lei. Cameras all over them, like always.”

A low whistle came from Andre. “So she’s real. Thought those ‘Heiress Diaries’ episodes were all filters and production magic.”

Marco chuckled. “Nope. She’s the real deal. Up close, she’s like an angel who got bored of heaven and decided to walk among us.”

Andre grinned. “Sounds like someone’s smitten.”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Marco replied, smirking. “I’m telling you—one look into her hazel eyes and you’re gone. There’s something in them that hints at foreign blood. Her eyes are uncommon for a Felivarano.”

Nathaniel kept his eyes on the ball, pretending to study his next shot, though his attention was really on his friends’ conversation.

Inside, however, something in him stirred—like a chord struck from a long-forgotten song.

Luis lined up his next shot. “Hey… wasn’t she Marina O’Donnell’s daughter?”

Marco, Andre, and Gian glanced at each other, eyebrows raising.

“No way,” Marco said.

Luis nodded, eyes on the ball. “Yep. Half Australian, so yeah… that foreign blood in her.”

Andre let out a low whistle. “Figures… she’s got the looks, huh?”

Marco blinked. “Damn… that explains a lot.”

“Yeah,” Luis said, almost casually. “She’s done some modeling, from what I know. My brother had a bunch of magazines back in the day—saw her face in one of them.”

Andre grinned. “Does your brother still have it? I’d like to verify his research.”

Luis laughed. “No chance. His wife probably threw that collection out years ago.”

Andre clucked his tongue. “Shame. That’s a collectible right there.”

Marco chuckled, taking a swig of his whiskey. “So what, she’s still modeling?”

Luis shrugged. “Don’t think so. Last I heard, she’s some kind of project manager now.”

Gian raised a brow. “You sure you’re not into her? You sound like you keep tabs.”

Luis smirked. “Relax. I just heard it from the girl I’m dating.”

Marco set down his glass and picked up his cue stick.

“Still, she gives off that untouchable vibe, you know? Off-limits. She’s the heiress of the biggest construction conglomerate in the country, for crying out loud.”

Luis chuckled, chalking his cue. “True. But didn’t you hear? Her engagement with that politician ended about four months ago.”

Andre looked up, eyebrows lifting. “Seriously?”

Luis nodded. “Yeah. Word is, her fiancé got tangled up in a scandal.”

Marco and Andre exchanged quick glances, interest piqued.

“What kind of scandal?” Andre asked, leaning a little closer.

Luis lowered his voice, savoring the gossip. “With a celebrity. Penelope Diaz—you know her?”

Marco let out a low whistle. “No way. That Penelope Diaz?”

“Yup.”

Gian groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “You guys sound like a bunch of gossiping aunties right now.”

“Shh,” Andre said, waving him off without looking. “We want to hear this.”

Gian just shook his head, muttering something about lost dignity.

Luis shrugged, still amused. “Look it up online if you don’t believe me. Anyway, I heard her dad’s looking for a new fiancé for her.”

Marco laughed under his breath. “Good luck with that. But honestly, with her face and her money, she won’t have any trouble finding one.”

Nathaniel’s cue paused mid-aim. Looking for a new fiancé, huh?

The thought lingered, curling through him like slow-burning smoke.

Their playful banter carried on for a while, laughter and teasing weaving through the haze of music and liquor. Luis and Gian had already gone home to their girlfriend and fiancée, while Marco and Andre drifted toward the women dancing on the floor. Nathaniel, meanwhile, stayed behind. He made his way to the bar and ordered another scotch. The amber liquid caught the dim light as he lifted the glass, drinking in quiet contemplation. Absentmindedly, he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his emails as the night blurred around him.

Then he saw it.

Subject: Proposal for Strategic Business Alliance

Nathaniel’s eyes hardened, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

So, the old man finally made his move.