Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 409

Chapter 409: Restless Night

Last Night

The city was quiet, but he wasn’t.

Peter lay flat on his back, eyes wide open, staring at the black ceiling like it might finally give him an answer. It didn’t. The only thing that stared back was the mission text still burned into his head.

[Mission: Acquire membership at the OnlyCeleb Club.]

He exhaled slow, heavy. The system wanted it simple. Swipe a card, pay the fee, step inside their velvet walls. On paper, it made sense. The OnlyCeleb Club was the holy grail of exclusivity — politicians, moguls, actors, royals, every untouchable name whispered in LA sat there behind gold doors.

So why did the idea feel like chains around his throat?

On either side of him, warmth pressed close. Sarah’s gentle breathing to his left, her hand resting soft against his chest. Emma curled to his right, auburn hair spilling across the pillow, one leg draped over his. Both slept peacefully, anchored to dreams while he drowned in wakefulness.

He didn’t want to wake them. Didn’t want to disturb the only peace in the room.

Instead, he lifted his left wrist slightly, the Quantum watch catching faint light from the city outside. A masterpiece of engineering—sleek black titanium, no visible screen until activated, packed with tech that made smartwatches look like toys.

"ARIA," he whispered into the dark, barely a breath.

"...I’m here..."

Her voice slid into his ears through the Quantum buds nestled invisibly in his ears, smooth, steady, alive.

"Show me."

The air above him shimmered. The Quantum watch projected upward, holographic light blooming from its face like a flower opening to the moon. The image expanded, growing, stretching until it filled the space above the bed—a massive 100-inch screen floating in the darkness, translucent and glowing with electric blue edges.

Sarah and Emma slept on, undisturbed. The light was soft enough not to wake them, bright enough to paint Peter’s face in neon.

He saw it all projected in crystalline detail: the club’s golden halls, velvet-draped lounges, men in tuxedos sipping $30,000 champagne while plastic-perfect women leaned against them like furniture. Every angle screamed wealth. Every shadow whispered obedience.

It made his stomach tighten. Not with awe. With disgust.

"Looks like a cage," he said quietly.

"It is," she agreed without hesitation. "A table built by someone else. Rules written by someone else. Even if you bought in, you’d always be eating from their plate..."

[Pathetic.]

The second voice oozed up from the pit of his skull. Taboo. Darker, sharper, the devil curled under his ribs. [You — paying millions — just to be a guest in someone else’s house? You, Master? That’s weakness. That’s crawling.

Peter clenched his jaw, his fingers curling against the sheets. Sarah stirred slightly, her hand tightening on his chest before relaxing again. He forced his breathing steady.

"Yeah. I don’t crawl," he whispered. Not for a long time, he’ll do it for just much but while he paid OnlyCeleb membership for mission completion and the opportunities there, he’ll be building something of his own. Not now but that did not hurt to make plans so soon.

"...Then alternatives,... ARIA purred. ...If membership is beneath you, then ownership is the next step..."

"Clubs for sale," he ordered, voice barely above a murmur.

"Exactly,..." ARIA’s voice softened. "You’d always inherit their cracks. Their stains. Their bones weren’t built for you, Master. They’d fight you the second you demanded more."

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