Alex and Arwen walked along the famed Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills, their presence naturally drawing attention. Alex's composed demeanor and athletic build not to mention his height, which he adjusted to six foot seven inches.
Arwen's at six foot two inches and her ethereal beauty, enhanced by her navy-blue floral wrap dress, turned heads at every corner. Pedestrians paused, some openly gawking, while others whispered in hushed tones.
As they passed luxury boutiques, Arwen's gaze lingered on the intricate displays. Gucci's window showcased a line of vibrant dresses, Louis Vuitton's gleamed with bold, structured handbags, and Cartier's diamonds sparkled like stars.
"Is this the craftsmanship of your world?" Arwen asked, her tone curious yet impressed.
Alex nodded. "Humans here may lack magic, but their creativity is boundless. These brands represent some of the finest artisanship."
They entered the Dior boutique, where the staff, already accustomed to high-profile clients, greeted them warmly. One sales associate hesitated for a moment, clearly captivated by Arwen, before regaining composure.
"Good afternoon. How may we assist you today?"
Arwen looked to Alex, uncertain. "Do you think I could try one of these?"
"Pick anything you like," Alex encouraged.
She selected an elegant white silk dress from Dior's latest collection. The staff guided her to a private fitting room while Alex waited in a sleek leather chair near the display. When Arwen emerged, the dress hugged her form perfectly, the simplicity of its design enhancing her natural grace.
"This one," Alex said simply, nodding to the attendant. "And add a few others in similar styles. Include matching accessories."
As they exited the boutique with their purchases, a man approached them, his confident smile indicating he was no stranger to persuasion. Clad in a tailored suit, he held out a business card embossed with gold letters.
"Good evening. I'm Jason Clarke," he said smoothly. "Casting director for Vivid Horizons Entertainment. You two have a presence that can't be ignored. Have you considered working in film or modeling?"
Arwen's brow furrowed, unsure of the man's intent. Alex, however, smiled politely as he took the card, then immediately returned it.
"We're not interested," Alex said firmly, his tone brooking no argument.
Jason, clearly unaccustomed to rejection, tried again. "You could make millions, travel the world, gain unparalleled fame—"
"No," Alex repeated, this time with an edge of finality.
Sensing no room for negotiation, Jason nodded stiffly, retreating into the crowd.
Their next stop was The French Laundry Beverly Hills, a Michelin-starred restaurant known for its fusion of French and Californian cuisine. The maître d', initially skeptical of their walk-in request, quickly changed his demeanor upon seeing Alex's black card and commanding presence.
Seated at a corner table overlooking the bustling street, Alex and Arwen browsed the menu.
Arwen pointed to a dish. "What is 'Oysters and Pearls'?"
"A signature dish," Alex explained. "Sabayon of pearl tapioca with oysters and caviar."
"Let's try that," she said, intrigued.
They also ordered, Maine Lobster with Black Truffle Butter, A5 Wagyu Beef with Bone Marrow Jus, and a bottle of Château Margaux 2005 wine to complement the meal.
The dishes arrived, artfully plated. Arwen savored each bite, occasionally asking Alex about the ingredients and techniques.
Across the room, a man in a charcoal-gray suit sat with several women. His name was Victor Alaric, an influential figure in the entertainment industry, though his true power lay in his covert dealings as a high-ranking member of The Echelon Circle, a secret network controlling underground markets.
Victor appeared engaged with his companions, but his piercing gaze frequently wandered toward Arwen. Her otherworldly beauty stirred something primal in him, a desire not just to possess, but to claim her as a symbol of his dominance.
When Alex and Arwen left the restaurant, Victor signaled one of his bodyguards, a hulking man named Gregor. "Follow them," he instructed, his tone cold and deliberate. "Get their address."
Gregor trailed the pair discreetly as they walked back toward the parking structure. Meanwhile, Alex remained unaware of the shadow cast over them, even if he had, he would not care. His attention focused solely on Arwen's enjoyment of the evening.
Back in his suite later that night, Victor dialed an encrypted number. The line clicked, and a gravelly voice answered.
"Is this Titan Mercs?" Victor asked.
"Speaking," came the reply.
Victor leaned back in his chair. "I have a job for you. High stakes. The target is a woman, a rare beauty. I'll pay ten million upfront, another ten upon delivery."
The mercenary chuckled darkly. "You don't mess around, do you? Location?"
Victor gave a brief description of the restaurant and instructed Gregor to relay the details once he confirmed Alex and Arwen's address.
"Consider it done," the mercenary said before the line disconnected.
Victor smirked, his fingers tapping the desk. "Soon," he muttered, raising his glass in a silent toast.