Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs Chapter 947: The Banker’s Deal 2

Elise Montclair grasped it delicately, inspecting it with the wide-eyed wonder of a person familiar with the QT-7 holographic watches, aware that Quantum Tech teamed up with Liberation Holdings to craft miracles—much like ancient folks gazed at fire and pondered if the gods were fucking with them.

As soon as her fingertips connected fully, the glass face flickered. It morphed instantly. In her grasp, that clear sliver of emptiness turned into a complete tablet—elegant, interactive, its interface awakening as if it had longed for her touch forever.

The Liberation Funds’ Premium Tier agreement unfurled in radiant notes, hovering in the air between us like a vow no one else in the structure could hope to claim.

"Where does this technology come from?" Elise whispered, her calm demeanor shattering like fragile glass under strain as she gawked at the gadget like it had appeared from a parallel realm and mocked her whole profession.

I let out a soft laugh—deep, relaxed, the tone of a man who grasped just how absurd this was yet relished seeing others catch on.

"You’ve witnessed our tech already."

It started with the Quantum watches at the auction—the scaled-back version for everyday buyers who like the future creeping in slowly.

"—and now you’re watching this. The authentic one. The kind we keep under wraps because describing it would demand too many explanations and heaps of counseling."

The tablet began reciting the contract in AR.NuN’s polished, executive tone—the style we chose when aiming for her to appear as a standard AI rather than a hidden AGI.

Essential clauses lit up in golden holograms, drifting like lavish jewels beyond anyone else’s reach.

I went on, reclining as if chatting about the climate rather than upending elite finance, "Plenty at that auction eyed the tech too. You’re not alone there, Elise. What sets you apart is your smarts—and your drive—to chase it down instead of just gaping and faking comprehension."

She lifted her gaze from the tablet, her eyes gleaming with a mix of avarice and true respect—the gaze of a hunter spotting that the quarry packs a larger weapon and is willing to offer it.

"Years beyond anything available now?" I offered smoothly, since easing her effort let me provide the phrasing. "Exactly, we realize. And it belongs to you. Plus full Premium Tier privileges."

"You mentioned the minimum is two billion," she noted cautiously, her financial mind already crunching figures like a turbo calculator fueled by adrenaline. "I don’t possess that mu—"

"True for the average person. But for you?" I shifted ahead just a bit, enough to charge the space between us with intimacy. "Eight hundred million secures your entry. Complete Premium Tier perks."

Elise’s inhale hitched—subtly, yet I caught it. The noise of a professional dealmaker who’d dominated talks realizing she might now be the target of the bargaining. "That’s... that’s under half the usual entry point."

"Your gains grow with your stake, naturally. Yet you claim every Premium advantage no matter the sum—the tailored AI investment handling that renders old algorithms as mere kids’ toys, the reserved quantum compute power that scoffs at Moore’s Law, priority access to our key transactions, straight collaboration with Liberation Holdings’ acquisition squad."

I motioned toward the tablet lingering in her hold, projecting agreements as if it had settled in permanently.

Then I pressed the edge two times.

It altered.

Not just the screen— The pane and border unfolded effortlessly, expanding triple-fold right in her grip like it was loosening up after a deep slumber.

The holographic display expanded alongside until it dominated the gap between us like a luminous portal, every Liberation Funds stat suspended in mid-air at demo magnitude—digits shifting, charts throbbing, earnings multiplying live as if flaunting their prowess.

Elise withdrew her hands a touch, taken aback—as if the device had just given her a playful swipe.

I remarked offhand, as though detailing a basic camp stool. "It grows to fit any space required."

I pressed it once more—it contracted to the initial compact form, serene and unbelievable, resting there as if it hadn’t playfully defied physics moments ago. "And direct it toward any display in any space—"

I aimed it at the overhead screen and observed its layout seep into the monitor unbidden, commandeering it effortlessly like a conqueror, "—it takes over. You can deliver a complete executive demo from that alone without extra gear. No wires. No connectors. No alibis. Plus it operates via your mind, skipping voice orders—you simply conceive and it acts accordingly."

She fixed her stare on the screen. Then returned to the tablet. Then to me—as if weighing whether to embrace it, ravish it, or torch it.

"You’ll receive your own QT-7 watch—the genuine model, not the diluted one peddled to folks who view holograms as mere gimmicks. And that tablet in your grasp? It’s yours now. Regard it as a signing bonus for becoming our inaugural Premium Tier member. Once the funds move over, you’ll join as a partner and earn a set quantity of the watches and tablets. Yet the real prize is your investment yields, so don’t let the gadgets dazzle you too much, our esteemed debut client."

"First?" she echoed, her tone snagging on the term like it carried a luxurious flavor.

"We boast Platinum members—Quantum Tech, Torres Developments, several foundational allies. But you’d be the first in this tier of alliances. That renders you... exceptional."

Elise placed the tablet down with care, as if rough treatment might trigger a blast. Her digits skimmed the border with near-worship, the manner in which folks caress objects they dread yet desire intensely.

"This tablet," I clarified, "eliminates the need for phones, computers, or other gadgets. It links straight to Liberation Funds’ networks, delivers instant asset reports, and boasts safeguards that render state-level codes as childish padlocks. DNA-linked biometrics, quantum safeguards that would outlast the universe’s end for regular machines to breach, auto-erase mechanisms if tampered with."

"It does what now?"

"Self-destructs. Down to the atoms. It reduces to costly trinkets if accessed illicitly. We handle security with utmost seriousness, Elise. Your funds, info, confidentiality—all vital to us. Mainly since theft from you means theft from me. And I guard that fiercely."

"In any peril, it signals us and authorities immediately, but crucially, it cautions you first. And your protection is assured through us." I skipped mentioning that if we deemed her vital, our drones would intervene.

Why alarm her?

She remained quiet for an extended beat, hands still on the tablet, thoughts obviously whirring with schemes unrelated to Sterling’s loan—likely plotting how many executives she could topple silently with this before dawn.

"So," I murmured softly, "shall we seal the agreement? You offload Sterling’s 23-billion-dollar loan to me—I’ll cover 25 billion, yielding your institution a solid gain—and in exchange, you gain Premium Tier entry for eight hundred million. Your cutting-edge tools. Your profits. Your alliance with the boldest financial powerhouse in existence today."

Elise regarded me intently—truly regarded—and I sensed the instant she resolved it. The instant the financier grasped she wasn’t facing a peer. She was facing something wholly different.

"Deal."

She departed ahead.

I lingered in the vacant chamber briefly. Beyond the partitions, the exhibition buzzed—crystal glasses tinkling, courteous chuckles, guests basking in blissful unawareness of the shift that occurred mere steps away.

Out in the crowd, Edward Sterling enjoyed a routine night. Likely mingling. Likely chuckling at a quip. Still believing his domain remained secure.

He’d invaded our home. Called my mother a slut.

I rose, adjusted my coat, and stepped back into the fray.

ARIA.

"Ninety-two days post-transfer," she noted via bone conduction, pleased and deliberate. "Plus or minus a week, based on his panic’s ingenuity."

Excellent.

Three weeks for documents. Three months thereafter.

Then the end would arrive.

And Edward Sterling would at last comprehend the agony of total loss.

.

Though I left her seeming like a novice.