Jade’s office sat on the first floor of the dealership, tucked behind glass walls, quiet corridors and the soft golden hum of wealth pretending to be ordinary light.

At first, Phei might have found that strange.

A princess like Jade Park, owner of a floating seashell palace of cars, could easily have placed her office on the highest floor, overlooking the lake, the showroom, the staff and every customer who walked into her world with money, awe or trembling credit authority.

Yet after spending only a few hours with her, Phei understood.

Jade did not need height to prove ownership. She did not need a throne room to remind people what belonged to her.

She preferred to be close to the pulse of the business, close enough to hear the showroom breathe, close enough to see which cars made customers pause, which staff understood the rhythm of service, which machines drew desire from people before they even touched the door handles.

That was Jade Park.

Elegant, graceful, old-money to the bone, yet not ornamental.

She was not merely the beautiful daughter of a family that dominated the world automobile industry.

She had inherited the soul of that empire, not as a burden, not as a pretty title to wear when cameras came close, but as something she loved with a discipline that made beauty sharper. The Parks owned most of the automobile world in one form or another, their influence stretching through companies, designs, voting shares, supply chains, engineering divisions and luxury branches until the entire industry carried their fingerprints whether it admitted it or not.

Their wealth almost brushed the realm of the Ashfords, and their voice in the world was not decorative.

When the Park family spoke, boardrooms listened, governments adjusted their smiles, and rival companies suddenly remembered the spiritual value of cooperation.

And Jade, this graceful princess with moonlit skin, flowing black hair and a voice soft enough to make refusal feel rude, loved all of it.

She loved the cars, the designs, the engines, the interiors, the philosophy behind motion and luxury. Phei had discovered, almost by accident, that she was learning automotive design and manufacturing herself, not merely the surface vocabulary rich heirs collected so they could sound competent in interviews, but the real thing. Engineering principles. Structure. Materials. Assembly. Aerodynamics. Cabin design. Powertrain philosophy. The sacred, greasy, glorious ugliness beneath beautiful machines.

She had mentioned it in passing when he asked what she truly wanted to do, and the answer had stayed with him because she had not said it loudly.

Jade did not present passion like performance. She let it slip out quietly, as though she trusted him enough to see it without being invited to worship.

And that was not even the end of her ambition.

She wanted the Parks to dominate the aerospace industry too.

If not in her parents’ reign, then in hers.

The dealership, though gifted to her for her eighteenth birthday, was more than a beautiful business for her. It was her instrument, opening move.

Through it, she had quietly begun taking over a start-up aerospace engineering company, acquiring thirty percent of its shares before her parents even knew. That detail alone would have made Phei laugh if it had not made his attraction sharper:

Jade Park, graceful as a traditional painting and polite enough to make arrogance feel vulgar, was secretly buying her way into the sky while everyone admired her cars.

There was something deeply dangerous about that kind of woman, and naturally Phei’s heart, being an irresponsible organ, decided danger looked excellent on her.

Beauty, elegance, business, ambition, family power, hidden rebellion, grace beneath pressure, and still somehow down to earth.

All in all, the perfect heiress.

But was Jade Park all goodness with no flaw?

Phei smiled faintly as he sat across from her desk.

Did it matter?

He did not care what flaws she had. Not truly. He had seen enough during the evening, heard enough whispers from staff, felt enough little shadows beneath her soft composure to know she was not some flawless porcelain goddess built for worship and dusting.

Jade too just like everyone had secrets. Desires. Pride. Hidden edges covered in silk.

Perhaps even flaws she buried beneath that graceful exterior because people loved perfect heiresses until perfection inconvenienced them.

But who was perfect anyway?

The world was packed with hypocrites carrying rotten hearts and polished shoes, judging others with mouths they should have used for apologies.

Phei had long stopped trusting public standards of goodness.

All he needed to know was simpler:

Jade Park had a good heart where it mattered. She was good to him. Good to his women. Respectful, thoughtful, passionate, formidable, beautiful in ways that did not end at her face.

Even if she failed whatever hypocritical standards the world loved inventing for women like her, Phei cared only about what she made him feel and the kind of soul he glimpsed beneath the elegance.

And right now, his heart was beating in one shameless, honest rhythm.

’Ask her out.’

Unfortunately, Jade was not the kind of woman one rushed.

Phei had already learned that much.

She was attracted to him to a certain level. That was clear. She liked romance too she wasn’t some robot, or at least the kind of romance that arrived with grace, thought and proper timing.

But she believed in a slower pace, in careful steps, in allowing tension to unfold rather than dragging it into the open like a thief being punished in a marketplace.

She was a classic Korean and Legacy princess, alright.

Courting her would not be a storm but a dance; controlled and graceful beautiful one too bur delicate enough that One wrong step and the music would not stop, but the woman might.

Phei signed the last document and placed the pen down.

Jade gathered the papers with delicate precision, stacking them neatly before setting them aside. Even that small motion carried elegance. It was ridiculous. This girl could probably close a folder and make it look like an ancient ceremony.

For a quiet moment, neither spoke.

Then Phei looked at her and asked softly, "How long are you expecting to stay in Hell’s Paradise?"