The Vale estate was a testament to power—not just wealth, but the kind of authority that shaped industries, bent governments, and crushed lesser dynasties under its heel.
A sprawling blend of modern glass architecture and old-world European opulence, the estate had private security more sophisticated than some nation-states. Titan Vale's headquarters was a fortress, but this?
This was the throne of a dynasty.
Freya had been here before. Each visit reinforced the same thought—Nevaris Vale might be the world's youngest trillionaire, but he was born in a cage of expectations far older than himself.
As they walked through the vast corridors, lined with art older than most countries, Freya's sharp eyes scanned the surroundings. Despite all the security, she noticed something else.
The staff.
Nevaris had maids.
She stopped, raising a brow.
"Since when did you have maids?"
Nevaris, hands in his pockets, barely spared a glance at the passing household staff. "I don't."
Freya gestured toward a passing maid, dressed immaculately in black and white, moving with silent efficiency.
Nevaris sighed. "Those are my mother's maids."
Freya gave him a look. "You live here."
"No," he corrected. "I survive here."
Freya smirked, but before she could press further, the grand dining hall came into view.
A massive chandelier of hand-cut crystal bathed the room in warm golden light. The dining table was long enough to host a royal banquet, with place settings so pristine they looked untouched.
But the true force in the room wasn't the decor.
It was Celestine Vale.
She sat at the head of the table, dressed in an elegant black silk gown, her posture so perfect it could have been sculpted.
Celestine Vale wasn't just a matriarch.
She was a queen.
The air shifted the moment Freya and Nevaris stepped inside.
Not from temperature, but from presence.
Celestine's icy gaze barely flickered toward her son.
But when her eyes met Freya's, the frost melted.
"Freya, darling." Celestine rose gracefully, a smile forming—not forced, not calculating, but genuine warmth. "You look as lovely as ever."
Freya barely had time to react before Celestine took her hands gently, scanning her with the careful precision of a mother checking a child for wounds.
"Nevaris hasn't been working you too hard, I hope?"
Freya nearly laughed. She had been shot at, stabbed, and hunted by assassins in her past life—but this? This was a battlefield.
Behind her, Nevaris muttered, "I'm also here, by the way."
Celestine turned her gaze to him.
The warmth evaporated instantly.
"Nevaris."
Not a greeting. Not a question.
Just his name, spoken with the weight of a dynasty behind it.
Nevaris sighed dramatically, flopping into his chair. "Oh no, she's using the tone again."
Freya took her seat, silently observing the dynamic.
The chef entered, accompanied by several maids, each carrying a course with the precision of a military operation.
A delicate amuse-bouche to start—exquisitely crafted bites of seafood and citrus. Then, a soup course infused with rare herbs. Wagyu steak, seared to perfection, accompanied by a selection of wine so exclusive that each bottle likely cost more than some stocks.
Freya wasn't easily impressed, but this was opulence on another level.
Celestine barely glanced at her plate. Instead, she cut through the silence with ease.
"You didn't respond to my messages."
Nevaris, already slicing into his steak, barely looked up. "I was busy."
Celestine's lips curved into a polite, yet lethal smile. "Too busy to acknowledge your own mother?"
Freya hid a smirk behind her wine glass.
Nevaris, sensing the incoming disaster, chewed his steak slowly. "I was in meetings. You know, running a trillion-dollar empire? The thing you forced me into?"
Celestine didn't blink. "Oh? And here I thought you spent your mornings playing video games and eating chips."
Nevaris choked on his wine.
Freya had to physically stop herself from laughing.
Celestine continued, completely unfazed. "You have more wealth and power than anyone your age. And yet, you behave like a child."
Nevaris wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I'm very mature. Just this morning, I crushed a company's supply chain and orchestrated a hostile takeover."
Celestine sipped her wine. "And yet, you're still single."
Silence.
Nevaris froze.
Freya almost dropped her fork.
Oh.
Oh, this was the battlefield she hadn't anticipated.
Nevaris forced a chuckle. "Oh wow, look at the time, gotta go—"
"Sit."
Celestine's voice left no room for argument.
Nevaris dragged a hand down his face. "Mother, I really don't think my romantic life is the most pressing issue—"
Celestine set down her fork with deliberate precision. "It is an issue. You have no heir. No legacy. No partner to temper your worst impulses."
Freya felt a shift in the air.
This… wasn't just about business.
Celestine Vale, for all her terrifying control, was…
Worried.
Nevaris leaned back. "I don't need a partner. My company—"
"Is not your family."
The words cut through him.
Freya saw it.
The way his jaw tightened.
Celestine's voice softened—just barely. "You may have built Titan Vale from the ground up, but power means nothing if you die alone."
The tension settled.
Nevaris exhaled, pressing his fingers against his temple. "I'm fine, Mother."
Celestine studied him. Whatever she saw didn't satisfy her.
Then, she turned to Freya.
Freya stiffened.
"Freya, dear," Celestine said smoothly. "What do you think?"
Freya paused, carefully setting down her glass.
She had dodged bullets, avoided assassination attempts, and outmaneuvered some of the deadliest people alive.
But this?
This was a trap.
Nevaris shot her a look, pleading silently: Do not answer that question.
Freya exhaled. "I think… Nevaris has his own way of handling things."
Celestine smiled, but her eyes remained sharp. "And yet, he still refuses to handle this."
Nevaris groaned. "Mother, please—"
Celestine casually sipped her wine.
"I'll give you one year."
Nevaris blinked. "…What?"
Celestine's expression remained eerily calm. "One year. If you're still single, I will personally arrange something for you."
Freya choked on her drink.
Nevaris gaped. "You wouldn't."
Celestine tilted her head. "Oh? You doubt my taste?"
Nevaris buried his face in his hands.
Freya?
She was absolutely never letting him forget this.
Celestine Vale had won.
Dinner continued, but the damage was done.