Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 427

Chapter 427: The Housewarming?

"Mr. Castellanos." I shook his hand. "This is Isabella Rodriguez, My Wife."

"Ms. Rodriguez." He turned to her, and I watched him struggle not to stare. "A pleasure."

"Likewise," Isabella purred, and I felt Miguel’s composure crack slightly.

"Please, sit." He gestured to chairs that probably cost five figures each. "Can I offer you anything? Water? Coffee? Something stronger?"

"We’re fine," I said, settling into the chair like I’d been born to luxury. Isabella sat beside me, crossing her legs in a move that made Miguel forget whatever he’d been about to say.

He cleared his throat, returned to his desk. "So. You’re interested in acquiring two of our penthouse suites."

"That’s correct."

"I have to say, that’s... unusual. Most buyers are looking for a single residence."

"I’m not most buyers."

His smile acknowledged that. "Clearly. Well, you’re in luck—we currently have three penthouse units available. Would you like to tour them before making a decision?"

"All three."

"Excellent." He pressed a button on his desk. "I’ll take you up personally."

The private elevator to the penthouse level required a key card and a code. Security theater, mostly, but it established the exclusivity. We rose in silence, Miguel stealing glances at us that he probably thought were subtle.

Fifty-first floor.

The doors opened to a private hallway—only four doors total, each leading to a different penthouse. The hallway itself was decorated like a museum, all subtle wealth and understated power.

Miguel led us to the first door, swiped his card, and stepped aside.

"After you."

We walked into money.

The entry alone was bigger than most apartments. Marble floors gave way to hardwood that gleamed like liquid honey. The walls were floor-to-ceiling windows—three sides of uninterrupted glass looking out over LA like we owned it.

And in this moment, we kind of did.

The living space stretched thirty feet in every direction. Custom furniture that looked uncomfortable but probably cost more than cars. A kitchen that belonged in a five-star restaurant—marble counters, Wolf appliances, a wine fridge that could hold two hundred bottles.

The kind of kitchen that came with the assumption you’d never actually cook in it yourself.

"Four bedrooms, five bathrooms," Miguel narrated as we walked through. "Seven thousand square feet of interior space, plus a three-thousand-square-foot private terrace. Smart home system, custom climate control, soundproofing that makes this the quietest place in LA."

He showed us the master suite—a bedroom with its own fireplace, bathroom that looked like a spa, closet the size of a small house. The guest rooms were equally excessive, each with en-suite bathrooms that had probably bankrupted several small countries. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

But it was the terrace that sold it.

Miguel opened the glass doors, and we stepped outside into private paradise.

Three thousand square feet of outdoor space, fifty-one floors above the city. Infinity pool that seemed to blend with the sky, lit from below so it glowed like liquid sapphire. Hot tub in the corner.

Full outdoor kitchen.

Seating areas with furniture that cost more than most people’s living rooms.

And the view.

Los Angeles spread out beneath us like a circuit board of light and shadow. The city grid stretching to the horizon in every direction, mountains dark in the distance, the Pacific a hint of darkness beyond.

You could see everything from up here—downtown’s towers, Hollywood’s hills, the endless sprawl of wealth and poverty all mixed together.

"This is the Crown Jewel suite," Miguel said. "It’s our finest property. Fifteen million."

I walked to the edge of the terrace, hands in my pockets, and just looked out. Isabella joined me, her hand finding mine.

"What do you think?" I asked her quietly.

"It’s perfect," she breathed. "Peter, this is—"

"Yours." I squeezed her hand. "In your name. Isabella Rodriguez, sole owner."

She turned to look at me, eyes wide. "What?"

"You heard me." I pulled her closer. "I’m buying it in your name. One for you, the other one for..." I trailed off, letting her imagination fill the blank.

"Peter." Her voice cracked slightly. "That’s—that’s thirty million dollars if you but two."

"And?"

"And that’s insane."

"So am I." I kissed her forehead. "You think I’m building an empire just for you guys to live in a regular house? No. My woman gets penthouses. Plural. In her name. End of discussion."

Miguel had diplomatically moved back inside, giving us privacy. Through the glass, I could see him pretending not to watch.

"Let’s see the others," I said.

The second penthouse was similar in size but different in layout—more modern, all clean lines and minimalist aesthetic. Six thousand square feet, floor-to-ceiling windows, its own infinity pool on the terrace. The view was slightly different, facing more toward the ocean.

Also fifteen million.

The third was the largest—eight thousand square feet, technically taking up two floors connected by a private spiral staircase. This one had a full gym, home theater, and a rooftop pool that was somehow even more impressive than the others.

"Transfer initiated, Master," ARIA’s voice came through my earpiece. "Funds transferring from Liberation Holdings. Estimated completion: five seconds."

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