Lugh Everveil swiveled his head, coffee mug still steaming in his grip, as the butler strode in with a vision trailing behind him.
She was a stunner—nearly 1.7 meters of pure elegance, her figure swaying like a dancer's dream.
A sleek black skirt hugged her hips, paired with a purple blouse that screamed "I don't follow trends, I set them."
Her skin glowed like moonlight, her features chiseled by some divine artist—sharp cheekbones, pouty lips, and a cascade of curly brown hair framing it all.
Black-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, giving her an air of haughty brilliance laced with a teasing hint of sass.
Lugh knew her—oh, he knew her well.
Aiselle Starlight, Jessica Snow's ride-or-die bestie, a supporting player who'd stolen plenty of scenes in his last life.
She wasn't the heroine, but she packed a punch—smart as a whip, gorgeous enough to stop traffic, and armed with a résumé that'd make CEOs weep.
Harvard master's in management, two years slaying it at Blue Mountain Investment Bank—she had it all, except maybe the cosmic luck Jessica wielded.
In the old timeline, Aiselle had stormed into his orbit, all fire and fury, after Jessica chased him like a lovesick puppy.
Hired by Lugh's dad as his secretary, her mission was simple: dig up dirt, expose his "true colors," and snap Jessica out of her crush.
Spoiler alert: it backfired spectacularly.
The more she snooped, the more she fell—hard.
By the end, she was his right-hand gal, plotting against protagonists with a grin and a wink.
And now, reborn and remixed, here she was again—early, fierce, and glaring at him like he'd just tracked mud on her pristine rug.
"Starbie, long time no see!" Lugh purred, his voice dripping with nostalgia as he soaked in her flawless face.
Memories of their past-life antics danced in his head, and for a heartbeat, he was lost in the déjà vu.
Aiselle, though, wasn't having it.
Her lip curled, disgust flashing in her hazel eyes like a neon sign.
"Tch, typical spoiled rich boy," she thought. "One look at a pretty face, and he's drooling—can't keep it together, can he?"
She straightened, her tone icy enough to frost the room.
"Hello, Mr. Everveil. I'm Aiselle Starlight—Harvard master's in management, two years at Blue Mountain Investment Bank, with a track record to prove it. Your father hired me as your private secretary to handle your work affairs."
Lugh flashed a grin that could melt glaciers.
"Hey, Aiselle—pleasure's all mine!"
She didn't budge, her stare cutting through his charm like a laser.
"Can't say the same, sadly. Let's get one thing straight: I'm here for work—only work. I'm not tagging along for your chaotic escapades. And if you don't measure up, I'm out the door faster than you can blink!"
"No worries, you've got all the freedom in the world, Starlight!" Lugh chirped, unfazed.
"Cold as ice now, huh? Just wait—you'll be all sunshine and giggles later," he mused, smirking inwardly.
Aiselle blinked, thrown off.
"What… did you just call me?"
"Starbie!" he said, leaning in with a twinkle in his eye. "You've got that starry dan barbie vibe—bright, dazzling, a little flirty. Fits you perfect!"
Her face flared like she'd been zapped, and she squawked, "That's not a compliment, you dolt! Don't call me that—I've got a name, Aiselle Starlight! Use it!"
"Sure thing, Starbie!" he shot back, grinning wider.
"You can call me Aiselle, Miss Starlight, or Secretary Starlight!" she snapped, her voice climbing.
"Got it, Starbie!" he nodded, utterly shameless.
"…"
Aiselle's glare could've melted steel, her hands twitching like she was two seconds from throttling him.
They bickered back and forth, Lugh sticking to "Starbie" like a kid with a new toy, while her fury built into a volcano ready to blow.
The butler, ever the peacemaker, stepped in with a nervous chuckle.
"Miss Starlight, the young master's just teasing—don't take it to heart!"
She gritted her teeth, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Oh, don't worry—I'm not that petty. Young Master, it's getting late—shouldn't you start working? Slack off, and I'll tattle straight to your folks. Good luck surviving their wrath!"
Lugh tilted his head, mulling it over.
She had a point—playtime was over.
To tango with those pesky protagonists, he needed a solid career base.
"Alright, what's my gig?"
The butler piped up, all brisk efficiency.
"Master, you can pick any deputy director spot in the group's departments or snag a vice president role at a subsidiary—your call! Nail some wins, and you'll climb higher!"
Lugh smirked.
"Perks of being a trust-fund kid—starting at the top while others claw from the bottom!"
His finish line was their starting gate—life's little cheat code.
"Sweet deal," he said, tapping his chin.
"I'll take the vice president slot at Everveil Investment Company."
Smart move—reborn with a head full of future intel, investing was his golden ticket.
Quick cash, big gains, and a fast track to outshine his past-life rise.
He was practically vibrating with confidence.
"Done, Young Master!" the butler beamed, thrilled to see Lugh stepping up.
"Per company rules, you get an official car, a secretary, a driver, and a bodyguard. You've got the car and Starbie here—er, I mean, Miss Starlight—so it's just the driver and bodyguard left. Want to pick 'em yourself, or should we handle it?"
"I'll do it," Lugh said, a glint in his eye.
Memory sparked—he knew a beast of a guy from the security team, a loyal bruiser who'd stuck by him last time.
Time to reel him back in for round two.
Aiselle stood there, arms crossed, still simmering from the "Starbie" debacle.
"This clown's as bad as Jess warned," she fumed.
She'd flown back to save her bestie from Lugh's playboy claws, and now here she was, roped into his orbit.
But she'd play along—for now.
Step one: gather intel.
Step two: expose this punk and yank Jessica out of her love-struck haze.
Lugh, oblivious to her scheming, was already plotting his next move.
Aiselle back in his corner—early, no less—was a juicy bonus.
Last life, she'd flipped from foe to ally, and he'd bet his penthouse she'd do it again.
"Cold shoulder today, warm hugs tomorrow," he chuckled to himself, sipping his coffee like a king.
The butler bustled off to set up Lugh's new gig, leaving the two in a standoff—Aiselle glaring, Lugh grinning.
She huffed, adjusting her glasses with a flick.
"Let's get moving, Master. I'm not here to babysit a slacker."
"Lead the way, Starbie!" he chirped, dodging her scowl as they headed out.
Work awaited, and with Aiselle's brains and his reborn edge, those protagonists didn't stand a chance.