While the artists were deep in rehearsal, it was finally time for Foca, Luca, Tuesday, and Hyouka to meet with Vincent, Jonathan, and Pearl.
Inside an extremely private room at the hotel, Vincent walked in first, trailed by the family butler, Sebastian.
Their intimidating aura was through the roof. Their presence alone demanded respect—to the point that one might feel the urge to get on their knees for some unknown reason. It was as if gravity itself bowed wherever they walked.
It was truly a sight to behold.
Behind them came Jonathan, accompanied by his secretary, Dew.
His name might sound refreshing, but he was anything but. Dew was the epitome of cold, ruthless, and calculating. He was also as handsome as they come. Since he was always by Jonathan's side, the two of them constantly attracted attention for their dashing looks.
Oh—and Jonathan and Dew were childhood best friends. They stuck together like family.
Kind of like how Foca and Luca were.
Behind them was Pearl, her arm hooked around her husband Cole's.
Together, all of them practically screamed money.
"Oh my God…" Hyouka gasped under her breath.
"They're telling me how poor I am in forty-seven different languages and they're not even speaking."
Her eyes watered dramatically.
"Is this what it's like to be in the presence of money?"
"Get used to it," Luca chuckled. "Since you're now Foca's PA-slash-secretary, you'll be meeting them a lot."
"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Dad. I really appreciate it," Foca said, greeting his father with a soft, grateful smile.
"Anything for our little bread," Vincent replied affectionately. His tone was loving, but still firm and authoritative.
"Little bread!"
Jonathan immediately walked over and wrapped Foca in a hug.
"Why did you only invite Pearl to dinner and not me?" he whined with a pout.
"You're here now, aren't you?" Foca chuckled, hugging his brother back.
"But this is different," Jonathan insisted. "It's not fair!"
"Sir, please be mindful of your image," Dew said flatly.
"You are currently outside."
He sounded less like a secretary and more like someone scolding a misbehaving child.
****
"Why? It's just family and close friends here," Jonathan said casually.
"There are still outsiders present," Dew replied with a sigh. "Could you please mind your conduct… at least until they leave?"
"Outsiders? Who?" Pearl asked, sounding confused.
But behind that confusion was a wicked smirk.
Foca saw it immediately.
Before he could ask what she was planning, Dew was already speaking.
"You, the housekeeper. Could you kindly leave the room?" Dew said politely.
Yet somehow, the way he said it made one want to smack him.
Everyone looked around, confused about who he was referring to.
When no one moved, Dew let out a slow, calming sigh.
Then he spoke again.
"Miss, could you please leave the premises? This meeting is reserved only for family and very close friends. Additionally, important business matters will be discussed here, so if you could kindly leave, that would be much appreciated."
This time, he was looking directly at Hyouka.
"A-are you speaking to me?" Hyouka asked, disbelief written all over her face.
"Who else would I be referring to?" Dew said calmly. "Aren't you wearing a housekeeper uniform?"
He gestured toward Hyouka's housekeeper-couture outfit.
Foca's eyes widened instantly. He opened his mouth to correct Dew—
But Hyouka was already ten steps ahead.
"Excuse me?!" she snapped, eyes blazing.
She was not about to be disrespected by another man. Maxim and that spoiled brat Merth had already used up her lifetime tolerance for bullshit.
This time?
She was fighting back.
Foca's father and siblings being present flew completely over Hyouka's head as she locked onto one target only—
The dark, hot, brooding, extremely rude secretary named Dew.
"Since you look smart," Hyouka began, "did you know that light travels faster than sound?"
"Of course," Dew replied, confused. "But what does that—"
"That's exactly my point!" Hyouka cut in dramatically.
"You came in here looking all hot and sexy and cute in a tsundere way. You looked so bright!"
She pointed accusingly at him.
"But the moment you opened that rude mouth of yours, it just proved how superficial everything was. Because in the end—you're rude! You are hella rude! You make me sick!"
"Wha—?" Dew blinked, visibly stunned.
"And just because I'm not wearing Balenciaga or those red-bottom shoes—and yes, granted, I do look like a housekeeper—how can you automatically assume I am one, huh?!"
She threw her hands up.
"The nerve! The gall! The unmitigated audacity! See? I know fancy words too!"
"Just because you look like some wannabe dark-romance-smut-novel CEO doesn't mean you can judge people by appearance!"
She pointed again.
"Didn't your parents ever tell you not to judge a book if you're not a judge?! You should be ashamed of yourself!"
"Girl, I think you mean 'Don't judge a book by its cover,'" Tuesday muttered, trying desperately not to burst out laughing.
"Same shit!" Hyouka shot back.
"These days people don't even have the patience to read books anyway. They just stay on shelves!"
She turned back to Dew.
"And I guess that applies to you. Judging a book while it's still on the shelf! I mean, couldn't you at least inspect my cover first before judging?"
Dew was completely speechless.
"Oh, so now you decide to shut the hell up?" Hyouka scoffed. "Why couldn't you do that five minutes ago? I want a refund for ever thinking you were smart!"
She paused.
"What I don't want a refund on is thinking you're hot. Because you are hot. You look like the type who ties people up and makes them submit."
She shrugged shamelessly.
"And I'm into that shit. I admit it. I'm a dark-romance smut girlie, okay? And I'm not ashamed!"
She waved the topic away.
"Anyway! That's not the point!"
Hyouka took a breath and pointed dramatically again.
"Be thankful I prayed for peace today. Because if I prayed for strength, I'd also need to pray for money… so I could pay bail."
She leaned forward slightly.
"So no, mister brooding dark-romance-smut wannabe male lead—"
"I am not a housekeeper!"
She thumped her chest proudly.
"I am Sir Foca's one and only personal assistant, secretary, and now apparently housekeeper—since you loved calling me that so much!"
She jabbed a finger in Dew's direction.
"Fine! I'll be a housekeeper! But only for Sir Foca! YOU HEAR ME?!"
Silence filled the room.
The only sound was Hyouka's heavy breathing.
After a long moment, Jonathan finally broke it.
"You deserved that, buddy."
He patted Dew on the shoulder, struggling not to laugh.
People usually avoided Dew like the plague.
They got nervous, stuttered, cried, avoided eye contact—anything just to survive a conversation with him.
No one ever yelled at him.
Not even his parents had raised their voices at him.
Yet somehow…
One Hyouka was all it took to leave him completely speechless.