My name is Ethan Reed.
Male. Twenty-five years old. Transmigrator. Investor. Game designer. Accidental billionaire.
And tonight, I am facing the most terrifying challenge of my life.
Not a corporate takeover.
Not a billion-credit production deadline.
Not even a hostile competitor trying to crush Northstar Games.
No.
Tonight, I'm meeting the father of the woman I like.
And we're not even officially dating.
That's what makes it worse.
If we were already together, I could stand straight and say, "Sir, I'm serious about your daughter."
But we're in that undefined space—close enough for rumors, not close enough for labels.
So right now, sitting in Vivian Frost's car, I feel like I'm heading into an exam I didn't study for.
I fasten my seatbelt slowly and glance at her.
Vivian is calmly applying hand cream like she's preparing for a casual dinner, not delivering me to judgment.
"Boss," I say carefully, "I still don't understand why I have to meet your dad the moment he arrives in Lumen City."
She rubs her hands together, thinking.
"It's not my idea," she says. "He insisted. He said he wants to see you."
"See me?" I repeat.
"Yes. Not me. You."
That makes everything worse.
The city lights reflect off the windshield, turning her profile into something almost unreal. Vivian Frost—CEO of Northstar Games, rising star of the industry, the woman everyone online calls a genius.
And somehow, she looks slightly nervous too.
"How long has it been since you visited home?" I ask.
She thinks for a moment. "Two… maybe three years. I haven't gone back since graduation."
That explains it.
A father who hasn't seen his daughter in years suddenly flies across provinces during the New Year—and demands that her male business partner be present?
This isn't random.
He's seen the rumors.
After Northstar's explosive offline launch, Vivian's name spread like wildfire. Interviews. Edits. Industry breakdowns. Clips across BiliZone. Threads dissecting her every move.
And whenever someone becomes famous, people get curious about one thing.
"Is she single?"
That's when it started.
The shipping posts.
The screenshots.
The "sweet moment" compilations of us talking in meetings.
At first it was jokes.
Then speculation.
Then declarations.
Eventually, the narrative online became simple:
Vivian Frost and Ethan Reed are together.
A lie repeated enough times becomes accepted truth.
And I'm willing to bet Victor Frost saw that truth.
Which means he came here to check something very specific.
"Boss," I say carefully, "does your dad know about… us?"
She stiffens.
"Us?" she repeats. "What us? We're just boss and employee."
I look at her seriously.
"Do you want me to say it directly?"
Her ears turn red.
"Don't you dare."
"I can," I say. "I'm not shy."
She coughs lightly and stares at the road.
"I don't know what he saw," she mutters. "And even if he did see something, so what? We're innocent."
"Innocent," I repeat calmly.
She shoots me a look.
"If we're innocent," I add, "why are you blushing?"
She doesn't answer.
And that silence says more than anything else.
---
8:00 PM — Lumen City Airport
Victor Frost steps out with a suitcase in hand.
He's fifty-five, but carries himself like a man who still commands rooms. Calm eyes. Controlled movements. The kind of businessman who built something real before the internet existed.
He checks his phone.
Message from "Good Kid."
18:44 — Arriving soon.
He sighs.
"Soon," he mutters.
Ten minutes later, his phone rings.
"I'm here, Dad," Vivian says brightly. "Where are you?"
He turns—and spots her car pulling into the pickup lane.
He smiles unconsciously.
When the car stops, I get out immediately.
No hesitation.
I step forward and say the first thing that matters.
"Uncle, let me help you with your luggage."
He looks at me.
Not hostile. Not friendly.
Evaluating.
Then he hands me the suitcase.
Vivian opens the trunk and helps load it.
Victor notices something subtle.
His daughter ran straight to handle logistics.
Not to hug him.
He sighs internally.
"…Fine," he mutters quietly.
---
The drive to the hotel begins calmly.
Victor sits behind me.
"So," he says casually, "I heard your new game already invested over two hundred million?"
Vivian answers naturally.
"The total budget is over a billion. We're not even a quarter into development yet."
Victor goes silent.
To him, a billion is generational capital.
To Vivian, it's strategy.
After a moment, he asks quietly, "How much money do you have now?"
Vivian thinks honestly.
"Liquid? Around three hundred million. The rest stays in operations."
Victor looks out the window.
Three hundred million.
At her age.
He worked thirty years for his wealth.
She surpassed him in three.
"Dad," Vivian grins, "aren't I amazing?"
He smiles slowly.
"You are."
"If you and Mom ever need money, just ask me," she says proudly. "I'm super rich now."
"We don't need your money," he replies gently. "Use it well."
Then he shifts his focus to me.
"I heard from Claire Frost that Northstar Games reached this level because of you, Ethan."
Ah.
So Claire talked.
I nod respectfully.
"Vivian is being modest."
Vivian immediately interrupts.
"Modest? It's true. Ethan is my partner. He has shares. His wealth isn't less than mine."
That's also true.
I spend almost nothing.
No sports cars.
No luxury watches.
No designer wardrobes.
If you saw me eating lamb noodles in casual clothes, you'd never guess my net worth.
Victor studies me carefully.
"Have you accepted outside funding?"
"No," Vivian answers. "Only the two of us. We don't take investors."
Victor nods.
"That's wise."
Something in his posture relaxes.
But I know the real conversation hasn't started yet.
---
The real test begins at dinner.
Victor orders calmly.
He looks at me.
"Do you drink?"
"A little."
"Hard liquor?"
I hesitate—but nod.
"Yes."
We pour.
The glasses are small, but the liquor burns.
Every time he drinks, he gestures for me to join.
I follow.
After several rounds, my face heats up. My ears buzz slightly.
Vivian notices.
"Dad, stop making him drink. He can't handle much."
Victor laughs lightly.
"Fine."
Vivian confiscates the bottle and stands up.
"I'm going to the restroom. Don't let him drink more."
"I know," Victor says.
She leaves.
The door closes.
The atmosphere shifts instantly.
Victor straightens.
So do I.
He looks directly at me.
"Ethan," he says calmly, "you're smart. So you know why I came."
"I do."
He nods.
"I watched Vivian grow up. She's stubborn. If she dislikes something, she'll reject it loudly. Yet the rumors about you two are everywhere—and she hasn't denied them."
He leans forward slightly.
"That tells me something."
Silence fills the room.
Then he asks clearly:
"Do you like my daughter?"
There it is.
The question.
No business.
No games.
Just truth.
I meet his eyes.
No hesitation.
No alcohol excuses.
No deflection.
"Yes," I say calmly. "I like her. I've liked your daughter for a long time."
The words feel steady. Solid.
Victor watches me.
Then he smiles.
A real smile.
Satisfied.
He reaches for the bottle Vivian hid and pours just enough into my glass.
"Good," he says.
He raises his own.
"Then let's drink properly."
I lift mine.
We clink.
I swallow it down.
Not as a test.
But as a promise.
---
Outside the private room—
Vivian stands quietly near the door.
She wasn't really going to the restroom.
She came back.
She heard everything.
A waitress approaches gently.
"Miss?"
Vivian turns.
Her face is bright red.
But her eyes are shining.
She raises one finger to her lips.
"Shhh…"
Her smile is unstoppable.
And for the first time tonight—
She doesn't look like the CEO of Northstar Games.
She looks like a girl who just heard the answer she's been pretending she didn't need.
And somewhere inside that private room—
A father decided he could accept the man sitting across from him.
Because the man didn't hesitate.
Because when asked—
He said yes.