Urban System in America-Chapter 248 - 247: Spotting Monica

Just then, he casually turned—and froze.

Across the garden, half-concealed by swaying lantern-lit foliage and a sea of murmuring elites, weaving through the crowd with effortless grace, he spotted her.

Monica.

She walked along the far edge of the garden, her steps unhurried but purposeful, as though the crowd parted for her rather than the other way around. Her poise was ethereal—elegant and serene—cutting through the chatter and clinking glasses like a moonbeam slicing through mist. The gentle breeze tugged at the hem of her ivory gown, catching the fabric just enough to make her seem like she floated, not walked.

Even among the extravagantly dressed guests, each trying to outshine the other, she stood out without effort. Every movement, every glance, carried the quiet confidence of someone used to being watched—but never touched.

Stunning. Untouchable.

Honestly, it was his first time seeing her in person—outside of the online news feeds that were practically bombarded with her face—and he had to admit, she more than lived up to the hype. Monica truly did match her status as the industry’s new diva. That quiet confidence, the graceful composure, the almost ethereal poise... it was something else entirely.

Lena was stunning too—undeniably so—but Monica felt different. Lena had the sharp allure of a rising star, fierce and magnetic, but Monica... Monica was already there. She carried herself like someone who had already touched the summit. More aloof, more refined, as if fame hadn’t shaped her but simply revealed her.

She had honey-blonde hair that caught the garden lights like spun gold, and eyes so dark they were almost black—calm, unreadable, but piercing. Her features were delicate: a small, cute nose, naturally thin lips with a sherry hue—none of the overfilled, artificial look so common in Hollywood. Her beauty was timeless.

And her body... elegant, yet undeniably sensual. Every curve seemed perfectly balanced, sculpted with care. A graceful neck, a narrow waist, and long legs that looked like they’d stepped out of a dream, and her legs—long, sculptural, almost surreal—as if carved from some ancient artist’s vision of beauty.

She wore an ivory night dress that clung to her like moonlight—soft, flowing, and impossibly delicate. The fabric shimmered faintly under the garden lights, catching the silver glow like dew on petals. It wasn’t flashy or overly revealing, but it accentuated her form with an almost magical subtlety. The neckline dipped just enough to hint at her collarbones, and the sleeves, sheer and draping off the shoulder, fluttered slightly in the breeze. A thin satin ribbon cinched the waist, drawing the eye to her graceful silhouette. The hem trailed just above her ankles, swaying with every step she took, as if the dress itself moved in awe of her. Combined with her effortless poise, it seemed like a fairy drifting among mortals.

She wasn’t just beautiful—she carried beauty like it was her birthright. Her dress, as elegant as it was, didn’t define her presence; it merely complemented it. She moved with the kind of quiet confidence that didn’t scream for attention yet drew every eye in the room. It wasn’t rehearsed or forced—it just was. Each step, each glance, felt intentional without trying to be. There was something magnetic in her aura, a natural gravity that pulled people in. The kind of presence that couldn’t be taught or bought, no matter how many stylists, filters, or spotlights were thrown at it. It was hers alone, woven into her very being.

But just as his gaze lingered, admiringly, he remembered the conversation he’d overheard between the guards earlier.

She was the target. Someone powerful had given the order—his men were to spike her drink tonight, here, amidst all the glitz and glamour. It was calculated, deliberate. A trap set beneath the illusion of luxury and charm.

But... he now seemed to understand why that so-called gentleman seemed so hell-bent on targeting her. With beauty like hers, it wasn’t hard to see why—anyone would be tempted. Heck, even he, despite trying to stay grounded, felt a bit tempted. She was captivating in a way that disarmed logic.

But he wasn’t delusional. He was well aware of the stark difference between their worlds. She was on a different level entirely—celebrated, protected, unreachable, while he... he didn’t have anything aside from that hotel he was about to get his name on, which was honestly nothing compared to the wealth and power of people here.

That’s why he had no extravagant hopes or fantasies. His goal was simple: to warn her before it was too late and, if possible, leave a good enough impression that she might remember him in the future.

"I’ll talk to you later, Aren. Something important just came up," Rex said suddenly, standing up from his seat.

Aren blinked, caught off guard. "Wait—what?"

Rex didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a sleek, matte black card—elegant in its simplicity, with his name and contact information subtly embossed in silver. Honestly, he had Seraphina to thank for that. She’d insisted on having them made after his last visit, when she noticed he didn’t carry any. "You’ll need them at a party like this," she’d said, her voice laced with quiet certainty. And once again, she’d been right. He made a mental note to thank her—probably with something more than just words.

He handed the card to Aren.

"Stay in touch. We’ll go over the rest soon."

Then he turned to the lawyer, who had remained quietly observant throughout the exchange.

"You too," Rex added, offering him the same card.

"Oh! I don’t believe I caught your name?" the lawyer asked, smiling with polished professionalism.

"Rex. Rex Aeric," he replied coolly, giving a nod that was both brief and deliberate. "And you?"

"Colin Price," the man replied, straightening his tie with practiced ease. "I’m with Strathmore & Keene—the largest entertainment law firm in L.A. We specialize in talent representation and high-profile negotiations."

Rex raised a brow, mildly surprised. "Figures. A party like this would need top-tier legal backing."

He offered a quick handshake. "Let’s meet tomorrow at your firm. Finalize the details?"

"Absolutely," Colin said warmly. "We’ll be ready. Clients like you are rare—and welcome."

Turning to the waiter who had been quietly standing by, Rex slipped him a folded hundred-dollar bill. The young man hesitated for a second, clearly caught off guard. Guests like these rarely even acknowledged his presence, let alone tipped.

"Thanks for your help," Rex said with a wink.

With that, he moved quickly in Monica’s direction. She had already disappeared beyond the garden entrance, but Rex caught a glimpse of her silhouette through the glass doors. For now, she looked safe. But how long would that last?

Meanwhile, Aren sat back, watching Rex hurriedly vanish into the crowd. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Looks like the boss is still young after all."

(End of Chapter)