Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Bold Trust Fund Princess and Her Chariot

At exactly 4:00 PM, I heard the sound of an engine that probably costs more than my mom’s annual salary rolling into our driveway like it owns the fucking neighborhood. I peek through my bedroom window and nearly choke on my own saliva.

Madison Torres was sitting in what appeared to be a white BMW convertible that looked like it was personally hand-delivered by the trust fund gods themselves. This thing is so pristine it probably has its own personal valet and gets tucked in at night. I’m talking Kylie Jenner level of "daddy bought me this for my sweet sixteen and I crashed three of them already" energy.

The white BMW convertible gleamed like a freshly minted trophy, every curve and contour sculpted with precision as if designed by artists obsessed with perfection. Its paint shimmered under the sun, so flawless it looked less like a car and more like a luxury yacht parked on wheels.

The chrome accents sparkled with a cold elegance, catching light from every angle, while the sleek aerodynamic lines promised both speed and status. The soft leather interior peeked out from beneath the lowered roof, pristine and inviting, exuding that unmistakable scent of newness mixed with subtle hints of cashmere and ambition.

This was more than a car—it was a statement: a rolling declaration of trust funds, privilege, and the kind of effortless power that made you both envy and recoil.

And she was casually checking herself in the rearview mirror, applying lip gloss with the precision of a NASA engineer, because God forbid, she meets me with anything less than Instagram-filter perfection.

Her outfit was giving me serious "rich girl who shops at stores I can’t even pronounce" vibes — crop top that probably costs more than my mom’s car payment and looks like it was designed by someone who really understood the assignment of making teenage boys forget basic motor functions.

My phone buzzed: "I’m here! Come out when you’re ready 😘"

Another kiss that sent approximately seventeen butterflies fluttering in my stomach—and judging by the chaos, they definitely weren’t following the proper flight formation protocols.

Time to face the music, or in this case, face the most intimidating piece of grade-A American princess who’s ever voluntarily acknowledged my existence.

I grabbed my backpack—you know, for the "studying," which at this point was about as believable as Jake Paul winning a Nobel Prize—and headed downstairs, trying to look like I definitely belonged in the same tax bracket as someone whose car has more technology than my entire house.

"Bye, Mom!" I called out, hoping to escape before she could do something embarrassing like ask if I needed condoms or lunch money.

"Have fun studying, honey!" she shouted back, and I could literally hear the air quotes around "studying" from here.

Real subtle, Mother.

I stepped outside and immediately felt like I had just entered a different economic ecosystem. Madison’s BMW purred with the kind of quiet confidence that screams German engineering and trust fund maintenance plans. The girl herself looked like she stepped out of a Teen Vogue spread titled "How to Make Virgin Nerds Question Their Life Choices."

She was wearing jeans that fit like they were custom-made by Italian designers who understand the female form on a molecular level, and a crop top that probably cost more than my mom’s car payment. Her hair was doing that perfect windswept thing that looks effortless but definitely required professional consultation. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

’Okay, so she’s got daddy’s unlimited credit card AND knows exactly how to use it to make guys like me forget how to function,’ I thought, watching her check her lip gloss in the mirror like she was preparing for a photo shoot.

"Hey, Peter!" she called out, flashing a smile that could probably end several small conflicts and definitely end my ability to form coherent sentences. "You look really good!"

"Get in, my cute nerd, we’re going studying!" Madison said with a laugh—like the deluxe rich girl remix of a Mean Girls burn. I practically scrambled into the passenger seat of the nicest car I’d ever been in that didn’t require a security guard or a monocle, my cheeks turning fifty shades of red and my brain short-circuiting somewhere between ’cool’ and ’totally busted.’

Madison started driving, and holy fucking shit, this girl had skills that would make Fast and Furious drivers weep with envy.

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