The Seductive Pretty Boy of the Matriarchal World-Chapter 52: Liking Her

Chapter 52: Liking Her

Elias Kane finished typing out those perfectly crafted, manipulative apology texts with fluid ease, then tossed his phone aside carelessly. He stretched out on the bed in a full starfish sprawl, eyelids drifting shut in lazy contentment, the faint hum of the hotel air conditioner the only sound in the room.

The system’s voice chimed in, laced with a hint of concern. [Host, what if Giselle Frost comes back right now?]

It distinctly remembered that because Elias had chosen the absolute cheapest laundry service, Giselle’s jacket wouldn’t be ready until at least noon. That jacket was a key prop for winning her over. If she showed up before then...

"She won’t," Elias replied, eyes still closed, voice muffled against the pillow. "I’m not even sure she’ll come at all. So even if she does decide to show, there’s no way it would be this early."

The system fell silent. [ ... ]

It didn’t make much logical sense, yet somehow it felt oddly convincing.

Elias dozed for a minute before something clicked. He sat up abruptly, grabbing his phone. "Damn, I forgot about breakfast. Can’t shortchange anyone—especially not myself!"

Inside the modest corner breakfast spot, Elias eyed the plate of steaming dumplings in front of him, the savory aroma rising in soft curls of vapor that made his stomach tighten with real hunger. Before digging in, though, he snapped a quick photo with his phone and sent it straight to Liora Voss.

Her phone buzzed. Without hesitation, Liora Voss pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Seeing it was from Elias Kane, she paused, a flicker of surprise crossing her features.

Her gaze lowered. It was a picture: a greasy, reflective tabletop in some cheap roadside eatery, the kind of no-frills breakfast joint that screamed budget.

Sharing everyday moments?

It seemed Elias Kane’s interest in hooking her hadn’t faded one bit. What kind of guy felt the need to share such trivial nonsense? The kind who was trying to...

Another message popped up right after, just six short words: "Sis, starving over here. Send some cash?"

An image immediately flashed in Liora Voss’s mind: Elias Kane stretching out one hand toward her, boldly demanding money without a shred of shame.

The corner of her mouth twitched upward, almost forming a smile—until she caught herself. The faint curve hardened into a cold smirk instead.

When dealing with someone as shameless as him, the best response was to ignore it completely.

So Liora Voss acted as if she hadn’t seen either message at all. She slipped her phone away without replying.

Elias Kane promptly pocketed his own device. He hadn’t really expected her to send anything unless she was truly that desperate.

If she’d sunk that low, he figured he could probably get her to hold Serena Blackwood’s waist steady for him during one of their encounters, and she’d do it without question.

The mental image was too vivid. Elias shook his head sharply, banishing the thought, then set his phone down and dug into his food with gusto, the hot dumplings bursting with flavor against his tongue.

Once he finished, he wiped the oil from his full, glossy lips. "Boss, check please!"

The owner didn’t even look up. "Twenty bucks. Pay over there."

Elias’s teeth clenched slightly, as if the price of breakfast wasn’t Twenty dollars but eight million.

He was entangled with three of those high-maintenance women, and yet here he was, paying for his own damn breakfast out of pocket!

The system offered helpfully, [You could have had breakfast in the presidential suite, you know...]

Elias blinked. Right—he’d completely forgotten that option.

It must have been the lingering haze from that post-coital cigarette with Serena Blackwood that had left him too satisfied to think straight.

"Remind me next time..." Elias covered his face with one hand, feeling like he had just lost billions.

By the time he finished what passed for breakfast, it was already getting close to noon. Elias headed straight to the dry cleaner and waited there while they finished processing the jacket, the faint scent of detergent and warm fabric drifting through the small shop.

Compared to washing it himself, paying for the service didn’t feel quite so painful.

While he waited, Elias pulled out his phone and opened an app the system didn’t recognize, his thumb scrolling with practiced boredom.

The system asked, [What are you doing?]

Elias’s fingers kept moving across the screen. "Daily check-in on Seraphina Hale’s fan forum. Gotta build that fan persona from the ground up if I’m going to target her properly."

The system: [ ... ]

It was impressively dedicated, but something about it felt off.

Still, building a persona was one thing. Elias’s efforts barely qualified him as a casual fan at best. What kind of die-hard supporter wouldn’t spend a single cent on their idol? Even a couple of bucks here and there would be expected.

Elias, however, lived by the motto of maximum frugality. Signing in? Fine. Leaving comments? Sure. Staying up twenty-four hours straight doing it? No problem. But spending actual money? Sorry, who was Seraphina Hale again? Never heard of her. Total stranger.

He went through the motions like a half-hearted admirer. It might not even come in useful later, but it passed the time.

Once he completed the routine, a staff member approached with a plastic bag. "Your clothes are ready, sir."

Elias looked up, accepted the bag with a nod. "Thanks."

He pulled out the jacket. The once-pristine, expensive custom-tailored piece now sat there hopelessly wrinkled. It was clean, sure—but if Giselle Frost saw it, she’d probably toss it straight into the trash.

The dry cleaner clearly hadn’t treated it with any special care. Expensive or not, you paid for the cheapest service, you got the cheapest treatment. Into the machine it went, no questions asked.

Elias gave a small, satisfied nod.

He had been worried she might actually take it back. This was perfect—enough to show he’d made an effort, but ruined just enough that she’d be tempted to leave the expensive piece with him.

Besides, Giselle Frost was probably still furious with him. Put himself in her shoes: if he had gone to rescue someone only for them to choose his rival instead, he would have done far worse than simply ignoring a few messages.

Thinking about it, Elias let out a soft sigh of appreciation. "Giselle Frost really is gentle, especially compared to some of the others I’ve targeted before."

The system sounded curious. [Who?]

"Hmm... let me think. There was this one female immortal venerable."

It was the only world where he had technically failed a task—though he had chosen to abandon it himself.

That woman had been far too arrogant. Even after falling for him, she refused to let go of even an ounce of her pride. After they argued, she tried to make him jealous by sleeping with a whole group of male immortals from the Immortal Palace.

Elias hadn’t felt the slightest sting of betrayal. He simply decided she was tainted now and couldn’t be bothered to look at her again.

But not caring didn’t mean he wouldn’t hold a grudge. So he turned around and slept with every single one of her bitter rivals, then casually told her that each of them was ten thousand times better in bed than she was.

He even remembered one of the demon venerables recording the whole exchange with a special recording artifact.

"And then I just dusted off my hands and walked away. Right before I left... I think she got so enraged she suffered a cultivation backlash, lost control, and ended up getting ganged up on by a bunch of those demon lords. She fell from grace, if I recall correctly." Elias finished the memory with a light sigh. "So yeah, compared to her, Giselle Frost is actually pretty adorable. I like her a lot."

"Huh? Is it raining now?"

Elias glanced up at the sky and saw light drizzle starting to fall, the cool droplets already pattering against the pavement. He quickly pulled out Giselle Frost’s freshly cleaned jacket and held it over his head like an umbrella, breaking into a light jog toward the hotel, the fabric brushing softly against his hair.

"Wouldn’t want to get my clothes wet."

The system: [ ... ]

It wondered if it should ask what the host would do to Giselle Frost if he didn’t like her.