Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 585

Chapter 585: Liberation Holdings Revealed

The rotunda went dead.

Eight-hundred-fifty million dollars just hanging there like a guillotine blade nobody wanted to look up at. Screens frozen on that obscene white number, throwing ghost-light across a thousand faces that suddenly forgot how to blink.

I let the silence cook. Delicious.

Valentina tried to pull herself together at the podium, scarlet silk stuck to her like she’d run a marathon in a sauna.

Amanda hadn’t moved. Paddle still raised like Excalibur. Midnight velvet painted on, pulse hammering at her throat so hard I could count the beats from twenty rows back. She looked drunk on it. Victory. Attention. Me.

Her chest lifted, slow, deliberate, savoring every pair of eyes that had just watched her rewrite the food chain. Then she turned.

Found me.

Everything else in the room blurred out like cheap bokeh. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

The second our eyes locked, her body remembered who it belonged to. Breath snagged. A full-body shiver started somewhere deep and rolled outward, vertebrae cracking into perfect alignment like someone yanked an invisible string. Shoulders rolled back, tits up, chin high; instant posture upgrade courtesy of one lazy glance from her god.

Her lips parted, curved into something too holy to be called a smile. Tears welled up, fat and perfect, sliding down flushed cheeks like liquid diamonds. Not sad. Never sad. Just pure, uncut worship leaking out because the body doesn’t know how else to process transcendence.

Eight-hundred-fifty million dollars, and the only thing that mattered was whether I was proud.

She knew I was.

The paddle slipped from her fingers, cracked against marble like a starter pistol. Nobody flinched. Nobody could look away from the girl glowing like she’d swallowed a fucking star.

"For you," she breathed. Two words. Barely sound. Hit me harder than any scream could.

I let the smile come slow, the one that says good girl, the one that says I’ll ruin you later for this, the one that says the moon’s already mine and you just bought me another continent.

I took her hand. Just fingertips. Barely contact.

Still detonated her. Pupils blew wide, breath stuttered, soft little worshipful gasp slipping out before she could stop it. Tears kept falling, but the smile got brighter, blinding, like she was mainlining divinity straight from my palm.

Valentina cleared her throat, trying to wrestle the moment back. "Miss Wells, would you join me at the rostrum?"

Amanda looked at me first. Always first.

I gave her the nod. Go flex, baby. Show them what obedient looks like when it costs nine figures. She walked. Velvet whispering threats with every step. Room held its breath like a collective lung. Took the stage. Owned it before her heel even settled.

Valentina fed her the softball. "Congratulations on your extraordinary acquisition."

Polite golf-clap ripple.

Amanda smiled like a cat that just knocked the Ming vase off the shelf and watched it shatter in slow-mo. "Thank you. Though I’m not here for myself. I merely represent Liberation Holdings."

You could hear bank accounts unzipping.

Valentina blinked. "Liberation... Holdings? I’m not familiar—"

"Yeah, we’re new." Amanda’s tone said that was their problem, not hers.

The room leaned in so hard I swear the floor tilted.

The conference room air grew thick with something heavier than humidity—raw, predatory hunger. Two hundred powerful investors sat in $3,000 chairs, their collective net worth enough to destabilize continents, and they were leaning.

"Current clients include Quantum Tech," Amanda said, her voice slicing through the murmurs like a wire through clay. "We manage their entire financial strategy. Their recent valuation surge from eight to twelve billion? That was us. Our algorithms, our market analysis, our execution."

A hedge fund manager in the second row—someone who’d built his career on microsecond advantages—let out a sound like he’d been gut-punched. The woman beside him actually stood, then sat back down, her knees giving out.

The lie hung in the air, pristine and lethal we only had 1%. Two percent of Torress was like ten billion. In this room, it tasted like ten billion. I could see them calculating, their eyes flickering with numbers, their throats working silently as they swallowed the impossibility of it.

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