Harem Investment System: Getting Money And Women-Chapter 110: VIP Speech

Across the room, a man in his sixties was discussing his rare antique collection as if he were talking about grocery shopping.

"Each one costs millions, of course," the man said casually, sipping his wine. "But true luxury is in the rarity of an item, not just the price."

Zack, overhearing this, had to stop himself from whistling out loud.

Millions.

For a single piece of furniture.

Yeah, this crowd was something else.

But the moment Ethan arrived, the focus shifted entirely to him.

Ethan didn’t hesitate.

He walked toward the center of the VIP section, grabbed a champagne flute, and raised it high.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Ethan began, his deep voice carrying easily across the room.

The guests quieted down, eyes now solely on him.

"I want to personally thank each and every one of you for being here today. ATLAS was built with a vision — not just as a resort, but as an escape, a paradise, a world of pure luxury."

He let the words settle, scanning the room.

"And none of this would be possible without the people who believe in it. People like you."

A few approving nods. Some murmurs of agreement.

"We have worked tirelessly to bring you the finest experiences, the most exquisite cuisine, the most unparalleled service — because you deserve nothing less."

A pause. Then, he raised his glass a little higher.

"So today, we celebrate. To new beginnings, to unforgettable memories, and to ATLAS!"

"To ATLAS!" the crowd echoed, lifting their glasses in a cheer.

A round of applause followed, and a few guests even stood up, clapping enthusiastically.

The moment Ethan lowered his glass, a handful of women immediately swarmed him.

A few ladies, mostly in their late twenties and early thirties, stood up from their seats, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Ethan, can we take a picture with you?" one asked, already pulling out her phone.

"You’re even more handsome up close," another added, giggling.

Ethan, ever the charismatic businessman, flashed a polite yet charming smile.

"Of course," he said smoothly. "I’d be honored."

He posed for the first picture, then the second.

Then a third.

It didn’t take long before more guests started approaching.

A mix of socialites and influencers, eager to post their encounters with the resort’s young, dashing owner.

But not everyone was pleased.

Seated back at the table, Melissa had been watching the entire thing unfold, her cheeks puffing up in irritation.

At first, she tried to ignore it.

After all, Ethan was a public figure.

Of course people would want pictures with him.

But the more she watched, the more annoyed she became.

One of the women actually touched his arm while laughing.

Another one leaned in a little too close for comfort.

Melissa’s eyebrow twitched.

She stood up from her chair with purpose.

The moment she reached Ethan, she placed her hands firmly on his arm and turned toward the women with a sweet yet obviously territorial smile.

"Alright, ladies, I think that’s enough," she said in a sugary tone.

The group blinked at her in mild surprise.

Melissa’s smile widened, but her grip on Ethan’s arm tightened just a little more.

"Let’s not take up too much of Mr. Grey’s time, okay?"

It wasn’t a request.

The women, catching the hint, reluctantly backed away, though a few of them giggled amongst themselves.

Ethan, meanwhile, just raised an amused brow at Melissa.

"You jealous?" he teased.

Melissa huffed, crossing her arms.

"Of course not," she said. "I’m just looking out for your schedule. You have other guests to attend to, don’t you?"

Ethan smirked but didn’t push the subject.

Instead, he simply adjusted his tie and straightened his suit.

"Well then," he said, turning toward the other VIPs. "Let’s get back to making this day unforgettable."

Melissa, still pouting slightly, stayed by his side.

Ethan had barely settled back into his chair before he was invited to join a group of well-dressed, seasoned businessmen sitting around an exclusive corner of the VIP lounge.

These weren’t just any wealthy guests.

They were real estate moguls, men who had made their fortunes by shaping cities, developing skyscrapers, and transforming barren land into billion-dollar projects.

For Ethan sitting at this table was a golden opportunity.

He adjusted his tie, picked up his glass of whiskey, and joined the conversation.

The discussion was already in full swing when Ethan sat down.

One of the men, a stocky gentleman in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair, was talking about a luxury waterfront development in Miami.

" — the key is exclusivity," he was saying, swirling his drink in hand. "You don’t just sell property, you sell an experience. A brand. If people think they’re buying just a house, they won’t spend ten million. But if they think they’re buying a lifestyle, they’ll throw down twenty."

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The man beside him, a younger investor in his late thirties, nodded in agreement.

"That’s exactly what I’ve been doing in Dubai," he said. "Ultra-modern architecture, cutting-edge technology, and a concierge service that makes owners feel like royalty. That’s how you justify a high price tag."

Ethan listened intently, his fingers tapping lightly against the rim of his glass.

This was a different level of real estate.

Sure, he had done some real estate before, but these men were talking about building cities, changing skylines.

He was ambitious, but hearing them speak widened his perspective.

Then, one of the older men turned to him with a curious smile.

"You’ve been quiet, Ethan. What about you?"

Ethan smirked and leaned back slightly.

"I’m in real estate too," he said, taking a small sip of his whiskey.

The table quieted slightly.

A few of the men exchanged glances before one of them, a sharp-eyed investor in his sixties, chuckled.

"Well, we all know about ATLAS," he said. "But is that your only project?"

Ethan’s smirk deepened.

"ATLAS is my current project," he corrected. "But it’s not my last."

The group looked intrigued.

The older man leaned forward, resting his hands on the table.

"Then tell us," he said. "What’s your vision?"

Ethan set his glass down.

He wasn’t intimidated.