At the beef curry restaurant, Lauren Findley finally voiced her doubts, her expression a mix of anxiety and hope. "Martin, if I'm imagining things, please tell me. If this is some kind of weird prank, please say so. Honestly, I'm scared. I don't want to be hurt by my biggest idol."
At 17, Lauren wasn't yet the confident, stunning fitness goddess she'd become. Her weight, mediocre grades, and lackluster athletic record left her with a lingering sense of inferiority. Only a deep wound—like the future rejection that would drive her to transform from "Piggy" to "Diamond Doll"—could spark such a dramatic shift. Sometimes, negative emotions are a stronger motivator than positive ones, but only for those with resilient hearts.
Martin studied her chubby face. Despite the extra weight, her delicate features hinted at perfect proportions, especially her eyes—clear yet timid, like a startled fawn, veiled by a faint mist of uncertainty. He smiled, taking her soft hand. "You're not wrong. I am pursuing you. I want you to be mine, Lauren. Yes, I want you as my woman."
Her face flushed crimson. She'd never heard such bold words. Strangely, she didn't find Martin crude or overbearing. Instead, a thrilling, unfamiliar sensation stirred deep within her, leaving her flustered. Her legs pressed together, her cheeks burned, and her eyes couldn't leave his.
"I won't lie," Martin continued. "I have other women, but I promise to protect you under my wing, just like them, shielding you from life's storms so you can live happily. This isn't a prank. The moment I saw you, I saw the beauty beneath. No one knows better than me how stunning you'll be once you slim down. I'm the world's top aesthetic expert—and its craziest collector of beauty. I want you to be one of my women."
His tone softened, his smile warm. "But if you don't want this, I won't force you. We'll stay friends. If you're willing, let me know, and I'll keep pursuing you. So, Lauren, are you willing?"
Lauren sat stunned, legs clenched, face burning, as Martin declared his intent to add her to his "harem." Far from repulsed, she felt a rush of joy and excitement. Maybe because he was the first man to call her beautiful—and so breathtakingly handsome.
Without overthinking, she nodded softly, whispering, "Yes, I'm willing."
A seed of affection took root in her heart. Martin's words had ignited a spark deep within her, so potent that even without succubus magic, she was already his. The seed was planted—she wouldn't escape his collection. Martin, unhurried, smiled. "Finish eating. I'm taking you somewhere fun."
"Wow, what a gorgeous beach! A silver beach in L.A.? How didn't I know about this?" Lauren marveled.
"Because the best beaches are snatched up by the rich and powerful," Martin explained. "This one belonged to Steven Spielberg, but he bought a Hawaiian island last year, so he sold this beach to offset the cost. See that villa over there?"
Lauren followed his gesture. At the beach's edge, where rocky cliffs rose, stood a crescent-shaped white villa, bathed in the 6:30 PM sunset, glowing as if dusted with gold.
"It's beautiful!" she gasped.
"The villa came with the beach. Wanna check it out?"
She nodded eagerly, intrigued.
"Tired?" Martin asked.
"No?" she replied, puzzled.
Before she could protest, Martin scooped her up in his arms. She yelped as he strode toward the villa. "God, you're so strong!"
"You forgot I lifted a pig one-handed?" he teased.
Inside, Martin gave her a tour. Spielberg's aesthetic remained intact—tasteful, understated. Lauren trailed him as he pointed out the kitchen, living room, and bedrooms. Outside, moonlight bathed the silver sands and cast a pale blue glow over the villa, creating a luminous, otherworldly enclave.
Suddenly, a flock of seagulls, startled by something, screeched and swirled in the sky, scattering the moonlight.
When Lauren reluctantly parted ways with Martin and returned home past 9:30 PM, her parents were waiting on the couch, staring her down in the dim living room.
"Eek! Dad, Mom, why are you here? Shouldn't you be upstairs watching TV? You scared me!" she said, guilty.
"We were waiting for you," her father said. "Why so late?"
"Uh, I went to the gym, then had dinner with a friend," Lauren mumbled.
"A friend? Who?" her mother pressed. "Can you tell us?"
"Just a high school classmate," Lauren dodged, bolting upstairs. "I'm tired, gonna shower!"
Her mother smiled at her retreating figure. "Our little Lauren's growing up. Look at her—she's glowing. She was definitely on a date."
Her father muttered, "Wonder who the guy is. Hope he treats her right."