At 5:40 AM, accompanied by the beeping of her alarm clock, Carmen Kass woke up promptly in her room. After carefully getting dressed and washing up, she took a moment to inspect herself in the bathroom mirror. The girl in the uniform with a ponytail received a score of 100 in her mental checklist. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself for a new day of her new life.
Her first stop was the living room, where the maids who also woke up on time had gathered. Head housekeeper Angélique Davis, upon confirming everyone's presence, began delegating tasks. Some were assigned to prepare breakfast, others to clean, while a few were responsible for fetching and delivering items. Everything proceeded in an orderly fashion. Once the eight maids split into two groups and dispersed, Angélique put away her notebook. Carmen finally asked, "Ms. Davis, what about me?"
"Carmen, Madam intends for you to serve as the boss's personal assistant. For the next few days, you'll be following me to learn the ropes; there's much to understand."
Carmen had only been handed over to Angélique yesterday when Sophia left. The girl knew of Angélique's significant standing within the Westeros household's maid team. She nodded upon hearing this, though she couldn't help but feel curious. Which "Madam" was Angélique referring to exactly?
Angélique, however, didn't elaborate further. Instead, she moved to a corner of the living room to supervise two maids cleaning a fabric sofa. After ensuring they were thorough, she turned back to Carmen, whose cheeks had turned slightly red upon seeing the sofa. Angélique said gently, "You were probably wondering just now, weren't you? But let me clarify something first, Carmen. Unless I explicitly specify otherwise, when I say 'Madam,' I mean Mrs. Janet. In the Westeros family, aside from the boss, she is the second in command. Understood?"
Angélique's tone was soft, yet Carmen, who had been trained intensively for the past two years, nodded earnestly. "I understand, Ms. Davis."
At that moment, two maids returned from an errand.
Seeing Angélique move toward them, Carmen hurriedly followed.
One maid held a bulging transparent document bag filled with newspapers and papers, while the other carefully carried a set of black women's attire inside a dust cover. Angélique inspected the items and gave some quiet instructions before the maids left. Walking toward the kitchen, she explained to Carmen, "The boss has a habit of reading newspapers after his morning exercise. When he's in a particular city, he typically reads one or two of the most notable local newspapers. For example, here in New York, it's The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal. There may also be additional materials, delivered daily on schedule. If Miss A is present, these should be handed to her first. If not, you'll need to deliver them to the boss directly after his workout."
Carmen answered obediently, committing this to memory.
Reaching the kitchen, they found four maids busy working. Angélique inspected and gave further instructions before saying to Carmen, "The boss isn't too particular about his meals. However, every week, the DuMei Cape Manor sends over a menu. Unless he has specific requests, all you need to do is have the maids follow it. This includes meals when guests are present; there will also be a guest list in those cases."
Carmen nodded, recalling last night's "guest."
The events had concluded by the time the noise outside ceased, and only Angélique went to tidy up afterward. Carmen hadn't seen anything herself, but on her way to rest, she could still catch faint traces of a seductive scent lingering in the air.
After briefly staying in the kitchen, Angélique led Carmen on a tour of the three-story duplex penthouse, including the rooftop terrace. She explained each room and detailed the rules and preferences of the household. The luxurious apartment spanned the top three floors of the building, totaling 1,200 square meters—equivalent to ten ordinary apartments. By the time they finished, even someone with a strong sense of direction like Carmen felt slightly disoriented.
Finally, back in the living room, Angélique said, "The boss should be in the gym now. I'll take you to meet him."
She headed down a hallway, and Carmen quickly followed.
Glancing at the patient girl walking beside her, Angélique offered another piece of advice. "Carmen, one last thing. I'm telling you all this because I want you to succeed. But in this apartment, those other girls you'll eventually meet—or haven't yet met—will require you to demonstrate significant strength and strategy if you want to lead them effectively. Consider this a small piece of personal advice."
Carmen was momentarily taken aback but had no time to respond as they entered the gym.
A young man dressed in a tank top and shorts was jogging on a treadmill near a window overlooking Central Park. His skin glistened faintly with sweat, evidence of a sustained workout, yet his movements remained steady and carried a restrained explosiveness, as if he could erupt into action at any moment.
This impression came partly because Carmen had seen footage of him in underground fighting rings. His ferocity in those videos still sent shivers down her spine.
As they entered, Simon finished his half-hour run.
Stepping off the treadmill, he accepted a towel from Angélique and turned his attention to Carmen Kass, smiling as he greeted her, "Hi, Carmen."
From his tone and expression, Simon immediately recognized this was the "gift" Sophia had mentioned two days ago.
No surprise there.
After two years of subtle indoctrination, combined with the awe-inspiring allure Simon exuded in both status and aura, Carmen's heart raced as he called her by name. Meeting his gaze, she tried to steady herself and responded, "Hello, Mr. Westeros."
"I prefer it when you call me 'Boss.'"
"Yes, Boss," Carmen quickly corrected herself.
As Simon walked out of the gym, he commented, "Your British accent is delightful."
"Thank you," Carmen replied softly.
Following him closely without waiting for Angélique's instructions, Carmen trailed Simon into an adjoining bathroom. She only realized her mistake when Simon, about to take off his shirt, turned and joked, "Want to shower with me?"
Carmen's face turned crimson, but a surge of courage led her to stammer, "I... I wouldn't mind."
Simon chuckled, stepping closer to lift her chin. After a quick kiss, he gently nudged her out of the room. "Not the time for that now," he teased.
Dazed, Carmen floated out of the bathroom. When the door closed, she glanced at Angélique, embarrassed but not fleeing the scene.
Angélique, for her part, wasn't amused or judgmental. She understood completely.
For men at the pinnacle of the world's hierarchy, even if they were elderly and overweight, they could easily attract flocks of beautiful women. Simon, however, had taken this to the extreme. Handsome, brilliant, immensely wealthy, and immensely powerful, he possessed qualities that made women irresistibly drawn to him. Even Angélique herself, after hearing the boss's activities with a guest last night, had spent the entire evening caught in restless dreams.
The two women waited patiently outside. Less than ten minutes later, Simon emerged, freshly showered and dressed in casual attire prepared beforehand.
Angélique greeted him softly and fell into step beside him. "Boss, regarding Boston, both Mrs. Meletskova and Ms. Rozin, along with their families, have been settled. Also, Mrs. Meletskova has requested a meeting with you, saying it's urgent."
Simon, recalling the two Ukrainian teachers he had brought under his wing, nodded. "What's it about?"
"She didn't specify."
"I'll make time to see her," Simon replied.
After issuing further instructions to Angélique, he made his way to the dining room. There, A Girl was already seated, flipping through some documents. At Simon's seat, a stack of annotated newspapers and papers awaited him.
Simon greeted A Girl with a kiss before settling in to read the New York Times. He asked casually, "How were the ratings for American Idol last night?"
A Girl promptly reported, "An average of 41.1 million viewers, up 20.1% from last season's premiere of 34.2 million. Peak viewership hit 46.7 million, and the 18–49 demographic scored a rating of 20.5. Core metrics met expectations, and even if viewership dips, the overall season average should surpass the first."
Satisfied, Simon nodded.
This type of trajectory was typical for a successful show: a breakout first season, followed by even higher peaks in the second. In an era where the internet and cable television hadn't fully risen, such explosive ratings weren't unusual. Still, Simon knew this would likely be American Idol's peak. By the third season, the novelty would wear off, and ratings would gradually decline.
As Simon continued reading, A Girl brought up another matter. "One more thing, Boss. In China, Jinsbook Media contacted ABC yesterday, expressing interest in acquiring the rights to American Idol for the mainland."
Simon paused.
As a phenomenon-level singing competition reality show, American Idol's global rights were lucrative. However, he hadn't considered China before. After all, the first major singing competition in mainland China, Super Girl, didn't appear in his memory until 2004.
Moreover, given China's lax attitude toward intellectual property rights, even
if someone noticed the show, they would likely just copy it rather than pay for the rights.
Upon reviewing detailed materials handed to him by A Girl, Simon quickly realized the situation. Jinsbook Media had already selected a partner: Jiangsu TV.
It all made sense—this was Chen Qing's doing.
After some thought, Simon instructed, "Tell ABC to cooperate fully. Don't worry about profitability; focus on nurturing the market."
A Girl noted his decision and jotted it down.
At 7:00 AM, Angélique delivered breakfast to the table on time.
...
In an upstairs bedroom, Grace, who had experienced a chaotic yet satisfying night, slept deeply until she felt a hand brushing her cheek. Instinctively leaning into the touch, she finally opened her eyes to see Simon sitting beside her.
Grabbing his retreating hand, she kissed it and asked lazily, "What time is it?"
"Almost eight. I'm heading to work and wanted to say goodbye."
As Grace tried to sit up, Simon gently pressed her back down. She lay there obediently, gazing at him, and finally mustered the courage to ask, "Simon, about last night... were you serious?"
Simon nodded. "Of course. But it depends on your wishes."
"I'm willing," Grace said quickly.
Simon smiled, tempted to remark how this morning alone he'd already heard "I'm willing" from two women. Instead, he simply caressed her smooth cheek and said, "Then there's no problem."
"But…"
Sensing her unease, Simon added, "The child will take the Westeros name. That's non-negotiable, but beyond that, there's nothing to worry about."
Hearing this, Grace's eyes reddened with emotion.
For her, this was the most critical point. A child without the father's surname would always be seen as illegitimate. Conversely, carrying the Westeros name lent legitimacy and a clear standing.
Simon had made a similar consideration when agreeing to Lin Su's insistence on the name "Little Simon Lin Westeros." It symbolized recognition beyond Janet's lineage, extending to other children and their mothers.
______
(≧◡≦) ♡ Support me and read 20 chapters ahead – patreon.com/INNIT
For every 50 Power Stones, one extra chapter will be released on Saturday.