Shanghai, West Sea Tower.

West Sea Tower stood among the tallest, most luxurious buildings in western Yinghua District—a pagoda-like spire gazing down with solemn grandeur.

It housed the district’s finest entertainment, dining, and talent, and served as Brave New World’s local base.

Only professional Brave New World staff, or those with notable status and wealth, were permitted entry.

High in the tower, within an opulent suite, a woman of stunning icy beauty reclined on a chestnut leather sofa. She gazed through the glass wall, lifting a glass of rich red wine before her exquisite almond-shaped eyes.

To her, the world beyond the window bled crimson through the wine.

*Beep! Beep!*

Her phone vibrated on a porcelain-and-jade round table.

Her brows furrowed slightly. She glanced.

“Park Seok-min…”

Seeing the sender, she tossed the phone aside.

“Still hunting men for me? So desperate for a granddaughter you’ve lost your mind?!”

The woman was Kazue Iinoue.

To outsiders, she embodied perfection: peerless beauty, flawless figure, illustrious lineage—untouched by mortal worries.

But…

Even Kazue carried an ordinary burden.

Marriage pressure.

Adored since childhood by countless admirers—men and some women—she found none appealing.

Because…

She was frigid.

While other girls giggled over adult films and PE-class crushes, Kazue never joined.

Seductive writhing and breathy moans left her utterly unmoved—like watching stray dogs play.

Only a few knew. The world simply said: her standards were too high.

*“You’re twenty-five, Kazue. Willing or not, you must secure an heir for the Iinoue family.”*

Her mother’s words echoed. Kazue snorted softly, set down her glass, and rose to the window.

Wine-red curls spilled freely, yet couldn’t soften her frost-kissed aura. Her features remained serene—a true ice queen.

Beneath fine silk, her statuesque frame elevated that chilling elegance.

Standing near her felt like shrinking beneath her presence.

*“I’m twenty-five. Did you ever give me a shred of care?”*

Her crimson lips released a voice so cold it seemed to freeze the air.

Her parents vanished daily into elite networking. Kazue was raised by her grandmother—the president of Brave New World.

How could a woman who built an empire harbor sentimental weakness?

Under her influence, Kazue grew aloof, ruthless. She took what she wanted—morality and law be damned.

*History is written by victors. Win. Means don’t matter. Even dirty ones.*

A warped childhood forged a warped mind.

(Though in a lawful world, dirt stayed in shadows.)

“Miss Kazue, the president requests your presence.”

A tall woman in black uniform bowed deeply.

*Grandmother…*

Kazue’s narrow eyes flickered. A wave of her hand dismissed the aide.

“Retiring… the presidency…”

A faint smirk touched her lips.

“Passing it to her granddaughter… yet fearing I won’t command respect.”

A cold laugh. She changed outfits and left, trailing only a crisp, cool fragrance.

---

“Has the young lady not opened my message?”

Park Seok-min checked her phone.

After today’s work, she’d sent Kazue photos and data of Leng Shuang. Miyamura of the Iinoue family tasked her: find Kazue a husband.

Years of leveraging her Brave New World rank among nobles yielded only rejections.

So she scoured the Elite Database—and every branch’s records. Nothing fit.

If *she* deemed them unworthy, how could Kazue approve?

Her exacting standards left few men rated “A” this year.

Except one.

The sole exception.

His face stunned her instantly. Only years of composure kept her from drowning in his unreal beauty.

She verified repeatedly: he was real. And his physique? Perfect for Kazue.

He could satisfy her mistress completely.

Yet Kazue hadn’t opened the message. Probably weary.

*“If Miss Kazue sees him… she’ll have thoughts. After all…”*

Even Park nearly lost control.

In the office, his presence stole her breath. Measuring his proportions from behind left her shaken.

Flawless build. A scent—not alcohol, but subtly intoxicating, like pheromone-laced charm. One discreet inhale… and her discipline cracked.

Thirty years single, sworn off men—yet her thighs tightened, heat bloomed within.

*If even I—a woman of iron discipline—nearly faltered after one whiff… Kazue, barely twenty, won’t stand a chance.*

She believed it utterly.

“Miss Kazue… do you know how much I’ve sacrificed for you…?”

In the restroom, Park changed her damp pants, glanced down, and sighed helplessly.