"I haven't been sincere enough to you from the start. I know I no longer deserve to be your suitor, and if you want to dissolve our match, I accept that. But Ms. Tibarn, even after the dissolution request, it'll still take over two months before I'm officially removed from your suitor list. "Could you…give me one more chance? I swear, if by the end of that time I still can't earn your forgiveness, I'll walk away quietly and never bother you again." He knew he had been wrong—deeply wrong—and there was no point in trying to justify it. Wrong was wrong. All he hoped for was one last chance from Emma. … On the top floor of NexusPrime Tech on Central Planet, Damian ended the call before he could hear Emma's answer. He didn't have the courage to. He admitted that he was not only cunning and despicable but also a coward. He couldn't bear to hear her rejection spoken aloud. Only by hanging up first could he pretend, even for a moment, that she might have granted him that second chance. His gaze drifted toward the seven vials resting on the table beside him. They had been delivered by Edric's people. Inside was a toxin-laced serum—the same kind meant for Laura and her mates, one capable of erasing specific memories. Six of these seven vials were meant for Evie and her mates. Ever since Evie had been taken to Central Planet, certain high-ranking nobles of the Empire had begun hunting her mates, hoping to secure her for their own therian heirs. Of the dozen-odd mates she once had, only five remained alive. Edric feared that, under such pressure, Evie might eventually break—and reveal Emma's existence to the Empire's upper echelon. So, he intended to make her forget. The last vial was the one meant for Damian himself."Huh!" Damian picked up his vial and let out a bitter laugh. Edric didn't trust him—and rightly so. His past actions had given no one any reason to. Ding-dong. The doorbell rang. His personal smart robot stepped in. "Sir, your guest—Ms. Evie Graham and her mates—have arrived." Damian adjusted his clothes, slipped on his fox mask, and left the office. Very few people had ever seen the true face of the mysterious NexusPrime Tech founder. Everyone only knew that he was an Ashenflame Fox and that whenever he appeared, he always wore a fox mask. … In the luxurious guest lounge of NexusPrime Tech, Evie's eyes sparkled as she looked at the lavish display before her. The attendants had brought out all the newest luxuries adored by Central Planet's elite females—exclusive nutrient fluids, rare jewelry, the latest storage bands—and countless other treasures she'd once dreamed of owning but could never afford. Her male mates were equally stunned. Altogether, the gifts were worth tens of billions of star coins—nearly as much as Evie's entire current fortune. "Ms. Graham, all this… surely it's not all from the mysterious NexusPrime Tech founder, is it?" one of her mates asked, wide-eyed with disbelief. This man's generosity is insane… Evie slipped one of the new storage bands onto her wrist, smiling with pride. "Of course it's from him. I was saved by the Beast God's Divine Flame, remember? I'm a future high-tier Etherian now. There are already plenty of powerful males trying to win me over. It's only natural that a man like him would want to please me too." Ever since her arrival on Central Planet, Evie had mingled with males of the highest ranks—Rank 7s, Rank 8s, even the occasional Rank 9 noble. Once, such a company had been unimaginable. Now, even the elusive founder of NexusPrime Tech had extended a hand of goodwill, and she wasn't about to waste the chance. He wasn't just any high-tier male—he was the Empire's golden patron. "They say males of the Ashenflame Fox clan know exactly how to charm a female," Evie thought smugly. "I guess that's true." She was already planning her next move. Once she met this mysterious man, she'd mark him first, bind him as her follower—and eventually, her mate. After all, who wouldn't want the Empire's wealthiest man at their side? "Ms. Evie Graham, my apologies for keeping you waiting." Damian entered, his fox mask gleaming under the light, his voice soft and melodic—steady yet soothing. Even without seeing his face, just hearing that smooth voice and seeing his tall, graceful figure was enough to make Evie's heart flutter. They say every Ashenflame Fox is handsome… if he sounds this good, he must be a hunk too. For once, Evie felt a hint of nervousness. She met his gaze and said sweetly, "I didn't wait long. Thank you for sending all these gifts. I love them." Damian's eyes swept over the pile of glittering trinkets that meant little to him. Behind the mask, his foxlike eyes curved with what appeared to be a sincere smile.