An hour later, at Central Planet's First Mech Building, Corvin finally wrapped up his work in the lab. Reaching for his lightcore to send a message to Emma, he realized—he'd been deleted. He stared at the red exclamation mark, stunned. Isn't it common sense that females love star coins? So why would she delete me right after I transferred some? Did she think I was being stingy? … After cutting off another match, Emma didn't feel the least bit upset. Out with the old, in with the new. There were plenty of males out there. If one didn't work out, she'd just swap him for another. She slept soundly through the night. The next morning, in good spirits, she went downstairs to make breakfast.Her lightcore chimed with a message from Damian. Damian: Ms. Tibarn, I'll be arriving at F-268 soon. Damian: Just the thought of seeing you makes me so excited. Damian: I'm not very smart, and I don't have much. You won't dislike me, will you? Sitting in his private starrail, Damian typed out the messages, a sly, cruel smile tugging at his lips. He had assumed a few sweet words would make Emma unmatch him herself. Yet, she hadn't taken the bait. Now he had no choice but to waste time flying to F-268. Fine. If that's how it is, I won't hold back. Since he was already coming, he wasn't leaving empty-handed. He planned to scam her—and every match she had—until they were stripped of every last credit. …Emma glanced over his messages and replied with ease. 'All right, I'll be waiting at home.' She shut her lightcore and headed into the kitchen. Breakfast consisted of oatmeal with homemade pickles on the side, accompanied by a small basket of dumplings. Simple, but inviting. Drake didn't need calling. The moment breakfast was ready, he appeared—as if the smell had drawn him. His lazy gaze brightened at the sight of the spread. "You're really good at cooking." With talent like that, she'll be welcomed anywhere—and paid well, too. "Why not become a chef?" She's clearly not living comfortably. So why not? Emma handed him a fork and a spoon. "I thought about it, but chefs have too many rules. Not for me."She had considered it when she first arrived. However, after learning how brutal the workload was, she gave up fast. In the interstellar, foodies were everywhere, but chefs were scarce. They worked from dawn till midnight—worse than overtime. Opening a restaurant usually required strong family backing. As an outsider, Emma stood no chance of competing with the locals. … After breakfast, her lightcore pinged. The Level 5 beast cores she'd ordered yesterday had arrived. She sent her smart robot to collect them from the delivery locker. The interstellar's courier system was so advanced that no matter the origin, a parcel reached the buyer's locker within three hours. Ten Level 5 beast cores, all top quality. She stored them in her storage band and posted another request online for more. Just as she hit send, the villa's doorbell rang frantically. The urgent sound was like someone pounding on the door to save their life. Emma pulled up the holo-monitor. At the gate stood a striking man in a pink suit, with long white hair tipped in red and androgynous features that were almost too pretty. His pale fingers pressed the bell nonstop. Damian! He really came! She unlocked the door. A pink blur shot inside, and the next second, Emma was swept into a hug that carried the faint scent of irises. "Ms. Tibarn, I finally get to see you!" Damian held her tightly, burying his face against her neck. She smells intoxicating—better than any woman I've ever known. Impossible to resist. He inhaled deeply, and his restless energy instantly quieted.It feels amazing! Emma could hardly breathe. He nuzzled her neck again and again, tickling her until she couldn't take it. It took several pushes before she finally broke free. "Ms. Tibarn." Pushed away, Damian looked like a puppy left out in the rain. His red eyes shimmered with hurt. "Ms. Tibarn, don't you like me?" he asked, biting his lip pitifully.