The private cinema screen of the mansion displayed the peak of the drama.
The heroine of the dorama was kneeling in the rain, shouting the name of the hero who had just boarded a plane, leaving everything behind — including his brain.
"Honestly… he is handsome, but stupid," commented Luna, wrapped in a blanket that seemed made of clouds.
"I'm rooting for her to leave him and marry the café CEO," said Victória, with a bucket of popcorn. "At least the other knows what an umbrella is."
Both were sprawled on reclining sofas, with a 500-inch big screen, dimensional sound, and an aromatherapy system that released the scent of Korean flowers whenever someone cried on the screen.
The movie entered another dramatic pause and Victória sighed, turning her face to Luna. "Are you sure you're not going to Le Bal des Étoiles this Saturday?"
Luna yawned widely, adjusting the super fluffy pillow under her head. "Absolutely. I have overdue dorama episodes. I need to finish them all by Sunday."
Victória rolled her eyes, laughing in disbelief. "You are either all in or all out, you know? The last time I saw someone miss an international event was because they were in a coma. And even then they sent a presence hologram."
"It's a matter of priorities." Luna pointed to the screen. "Crying with a dorama heroine while eating truffles wrapped in magical glitter is my priority. And anyway… you're not going either."
Victória blinked. "What do you mean I'm not going? I confirmed attendance!"
Luna stretched on the sofa, with a lazy little smile. "Yes. And the girls too. But in the end, everyone canceled. Reason? Preparations for New York."
"You're joking." Victória frowned.
"Never." Luna grabbed her own phone and raised her chin dramatically. "Wanna bet they won't go either?"
Victória pulled her iPhone from her hoodie pocket and opened the four-girl WhatsApp group.
She typed quickly. "Guys, is anyone still going to Le Bal des Étoiles on Saturday? Or did everyone quit for good?"
It took less than a minute.
@Lumine: "I'll skip. I have a meeting with the Berlin film team, where a secret film festival for investors is hosting, and MY FILM will premiere in the private session… REMEMBER?"
@Nikoly: "My flight to Tokyo is Saturday afternoon. I have the opening of the new branch of Hoshinami Grand Tower. Sorry."
Victória slowly raised her eyes to Luna, who was already typing shamelessly on her phone.
@SmellOfAfterRainSoil: "So it's official. Bal des Étoiles canceled. New York won. Victória needs you to analyze if her fiancé is worthy or just another suit mascot."
Victória threw a pillow on Luna, who dodged with a mocking laugh.
"Luna! What drama! Don't put in the group that I need evaluation!"
"Friend… if we're going to put up with rich people, better turn it into an affective evaluation committee. We'll make a checklist."
Victória sank deeper into the sofa. "I didn't have to tell them about my fiancé."
"We need to save you from an unbearable marriage," Luna replied, grabbing another truffle. "Relax. If he has more than 12% charisma and doesn't use hair gel, he's already above average."
Victória laughed, but the smile soon gave way to a silent sigh.
The fiancé's name already hurt just to think about.
He was the picture of the "perfect match" on paper, but in real life? Don't even mention it...
"And what if I don't want to go to New York?" she murmured suddenly.
Luna stopped, looking at her sideways. Her expression softened. "Then don't go. Stay here. We'll finish this dorama and then binge the next one. Corporate engagement be damned."
Victória didn't answer immediately, but her smile was more genuine than in a long time.
— The next day —
The dramatic sound of episode 39 still echoed through the private cinema when the first rays of sun slipped through the smart blinds. The soundtrack of flaming violins and screams in Korean filled the air with the typical exaggeration of productions Luna loved.
Luna opened her eyes slowly, feeling her head light but her body heavily stuck. "Hnnng…?"
She tried to move, but something was… wrapped around her.
Ah… Victória.
Literally stuck like an emotionally needy octopus. An arm over the stomach. A leg crossed over the hip. And the head nestled on Luna's shoulder with a dreamy little smile, still in the world of Korean dramas.
"…this is a kidnapping," murmured Luna, yawning.
With lazy ninja movements, she was unwrapping herself from the noble friend, who murmured half asleep. "…coffee… but only if it's with golden marshmallows…"
"Jesus, Vic… you dream about the menu?" Luna grumbled, laughing softly.
She pulled the blanket over her friend, turned off the big screen with a command on her smartwatch, and left the cinema stepping barefoot on rugs that felt like soul massages.
She climbed the mansion stairs calmly, still stretching with elegant laziness.
At the room, she faced the full-length mirror.
"Good morning, goddess," she said to her reflection, winking.
Quickly, she went to the bathroom. Brushed her teeth with white charcoal mint toothpaste, took an energizing shower under the ionized waterfall mode shower, and left the bathroom already choosing the morning look.
No dresses or heels today. Today was a day to be a professional athlete by whim.
White sports top with metallic cutouts, black magic compression leggings, and a ponytail so well done it could win an international casual aesthetic award. She grabbed the iPhone and earphones, typed something to Ivy about breakfast later, and left.
She crossed a glass corridor with a view of the mansion's green fields until reaching the exclusive training gym.
Upon opening the automatic door, the lights adjusted, revealing the exercise paradise: state-of-the-art machines with personal trainer AI. Treadmills that simulated virtual environments. Yoga room with controlled aroma. Weightlifting area with weights that auto-adjusted to her energy level.
Luna touched the central screen and selected her playlist.
"BOOMBAYAH" – BLACKPINK exploded in the earphones.
"Let's kill this fat… that doesn't even exist," she said, laughing, before starting the warm-up.
1 hour of exercise.
But for Luna, with a body enhanced to the level of a super soldier sculpted by the gods, not a single drop of sweat fell.
She did squats with weights that would make a bodybuilder cry, stretches that defied the laws of gravity, and crunches with a perfection that made any digital avatar look poorly rendered.
Her body simply... obeyed.
Slim waist, defined abdomen, long legs with discreet muscles, firm like an elite ballerina.
And while she jumped rope at a speed that would make a sprinter blush, she hummed. "BLACKPINK in your aaaaareaaa..."
The morning light filtered through the panoramic windows, reflecting in the mirrors as if she were being lit by spotlights from the gods.
At the end of the workout, Luna turned off the music, took a deep breath, not tired, just satisfied, and grabbed an energizing water with crystallized fruit essence.
"Another day being perfect. Tiring, but someone has to do it."
She grabbed her phone, saw 36 unread messages, most from Ivy, from the girls' group and... one from idiot Matthew.
Luna looked at the screen. "If it's a formal message again, I swear I'll send a voice note singing BLACKPINK off-key until he learns."
But before reading, she decided… to take a shower again.
After all, maintaining perfection was a full-time job.
She crossed the milky white marble floor with pearly details, humming a melody.
She tossed her hair back and, already naked, entered her bathroom-palace. The hot water fell in a cascade from a ceiling lit by soft LEDs simulating spring sunlight. The aroma of roses and white tea spread through the air.
This time, Luna was in no hurry.
She took a long bath, enjoying every second like a goddess bathing before a day of command.
When she left, she chose a "casual millionaire who could buy your country" look:
An oversized white dress shirt, with subtle silver threads intertwined in the fabric, elegant but without pretension. Nude tailored shorts, perfectly aligned with her slim waist and sculptural legs. And white skateboard sneakers, with gold details and synthetic quartz soles, exclusive from the custom-made collection for her.
She tied her hair in a messy bun, but perfectly styled. A small star-shaped earring sparkled discreetly on her ear. Perfect. Simple.
Luna left the room whistling and went to check if Victória had already woken up. She passed by the cinema room still smelling like magical popcorn and saw the blankets messy, but no Lancaster princess.
"Where is the real octopus…" she muttered, smiling sideways.
A maid approached, bowing respectfully. "Milady, Miss Victória is in the bath. She requested heated towels and lavender infusion."
"Typical," Luna laughed. "Thank you."
Going down the stairs, she went straight to the breakfast room, where a worthy table was set: fresh breads, rare cheeses, exotic fruits harvested by Tibetan monks in absolute silence, and golden heart-shaped pancakes.
She sat casually, grabbed a glass of imperial lychee juice, and took a sip.
With her free hand, she picked up her phone and murmured. "Ivy, give me a foundation status. How are the billions in cashback?"
At the same moment, Ivy appeared with a floating hologram screen, filled with dynamic data and pulsing graphs.
"Good morning, Luna," said Ivy in a soft voice. "The foundation president executed the first operations in 40 countries. Of the billions, 30 billion have already been applied in high-impact humanitarian missions."
"Forty countries? All that already?" Luna raised an eyebrow, interested.
"Yes. The Robot-People teams strategically split by continents with the highest vulnerability index: 5 billion directed to school infrastructure in desert regions of Africa. 4.2 billion for mobile hospitals in civil conflict areas. 6 billion for child hunger eradication programs in island countries of Asia. And another 14.8 billion divided into housing projects, water purifiers, and educational innovation centers."
Ivy expanded a screen to show a global map with dozens of light-blue blinking markers. "Since the official website launch of the Foundation, we received 1.2 million emails requesting help, partnerships, and volunteering. The Robots are organizing the data, ranking by humanitarian priority, auditing documents, and preventing fraud."
Luna slowly chewed a piece of croissant filled with truffled chocolate.
"Has anyone tried to steal or commit fraud yet?"
"Twelve attempts. All intercepted. The Robots activated the protocol and publicly exposed the fraudsters on social networks with proofs and edited videos. Some even went viral."
"Hah. Love it," said Luna, putting strawberries on her plate. "And the robots are okay? No collapse from digital burnout?"
"They are powered by solar energy. Still more stable than 90% of the CEOs on the planet."
Luna laughed alone.
She looked out the glass window of the room, watching the albino peacocks parade in the garden like runway models, and murmured. "I think Augustus Malroth would be proud if his name were linked to a foundation like this and with his surname..."
Ivy smiled subtly in the projection.
"He would be impressed, madam. And the system is too. Your social karma level increased by 2,000 points. This may generate additional rewards soon."
"Phew… so my billionaire shopping wasn't in vain." She joked, raising her glass.
"They were processed as institutional expenses for the creation of the headquarters and employee welfare. Legal, ethical and… multiplier." Luna sighed, satisfied.
She looked up as if speaking to the Tycoon system itself. "Does the audience like that?"
Ivy blinked with holographic sympathy and disappeared, leaving only the data floating in the air for a few more seconds before disappearing as well.
Luna grabbed another glass of juice, looked toward the corridor, and shouted. "Victória, if you don't come down, I'll throw explosive glitter on your favorite shampoo!"
A muffled scream answered from above.
Luna just smiled, satisfied.