The man behind the office desk straightened up as Tessa Wilder strolled in, her presence cool, effortless, the kind of thing that came with being a Wilder—but also, more importantly, the kind of thing that came with being the most dangerous person in the room while looking like a fashion ad.
She stopped in front of the desk and gave him a nod, casual as hell.
The man—Damian Wilder—gave her a small, knowing smile, his gaze sharp. He wasn't direct family, but in the Wilders, connections and distant relationships ran deeper than direct blood. He'd been running this operation for decades, handling all the big-ticket transactions, and tonight was no different.
"Miss Wilder." He greeted her smoothly, though there was clear familiarity there. "I see you finally decided to stop ignoring my calls and came to visit this old man!"
Tessa's lips twitched in amusement. "You say that like I was actually ignoring them."
"You were ignoring them."
"Eh." She lifted a shoulder. "I knew I'd be seeing you anyway."
Damian sighed like a man used to this shit. Then, finally, his gaze shifted toward the two figures behind her—one familiar, one… not.
His eyes landed on Atalanta first, nodding politely. "Miss."
Atalanta gave him a single nod back, arms crossed, her warrior's gaze sharp even in this casual setting.
Then Damian looked at Parker.
For a single second, he just stared, taking in the details. The Asian features were subtle, but Damian had seen enough in his life to know better.
…And also, what the fuck? His eyes narrowed slightly before flicking back to Tessa, expression unreadable.
"So," Damian said, tone light but way too knowing, "are you gonna tell me who this half-Asian man is, or do I have to play guessing?"
Tessa didn't even blink.
Didn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second.
Didn't even make it seem like there was any other possible answer.
She just smirked—a look so casual, yet so shamelessly confident, that Parker already knew whatever was about to come out of her mouth was going to be some bullshit.
"Oh, that's my man." Parker blinked. Of course, Tessa wouldn't miss a chance!
Damian's brows shot up.
Atalanta made a face that said, of course she said that.
…Yeah, he was just standing there, staring at Tessa like, Really? This is the move you're making right now? But before he could say anything, Atalanta's gaze suddenly sharpened on him—so much so that Parker actually felt it.
He slowly turned his head, meeting her intense stare.
"…Yo." Parker gave her a flat look. "Why the fuck are you staring at me like that?"
Atalanta hesitated. Then, almost uncertainly, she said, "I just realized… you actually have a lot of Asian features."
She tilted her head, genuinely studying him. "I didn't really notice before. But now that I'm really looking at you… yeah. It's there. Your face. Your hair. It's… subtle, but obvious." Parker sighed. He already knew where this was going.
Atalanta narrowed her eyes slightly. "So…?"
She waved a hand vaguely. "What's the deal?"
Parker shrugged. "Korean. Happy now?"
Atalanta blinked. "Seriously?"
She looked at him again, like she was reassessing her entire perception of him, then nodded, satisfied. "Huh. Makes sense."
Parker only half-paid attention at this point, because in his head, he was thinking:
At least in this life—
His mother had been Korean, same with her two sisters—which, of course, included Helena Blackwood herself. Not that Helena looked like it anymore. But, as with most things in Parker's life, it was way more complicated than that.
He had no plans to unpack all that right now.
But either way, Atalanta looked like she wanted to ask more, and Parker already hated where this was going. She was acting like he was a mystery she had to solve!
But before she could ask more much to his relief—Damian pulled out a sleek, high-security tablet—not the basic rich-people type, but the 'if you're not a Wilder, don't even fucking try' type. The thing wasn't just expensive; it was custom-built, embedded with layers of security protocols so intense that even black-market hackers wouldn't bother. This wasn't about money.
It was about who the hell you were in this world.
Without a word, Damian angled the device toward Tessa. No passwords. No fingerprints. No tedious multi-step verifications. Just one simple, inarguable method: her gaze.
Tessa barely had to move. The scanner, sensitive to even the smallest shift, caught her eyes immediately.
A soft chime. A system recognition flash.
Then, the screen pulsed with a single confirmation:
WILDER FAMILY AUTHORIZED.
A smaller notification appeared just below:
Exclusive-tier transaction in progress.
That alone spoke volumes. There was wealth, and then there was this. This was to confirm that a Wilder was the one in charge of this purchase. So whatever money Parker was going to drop, it was Tessa who'd been in charge of it!
Damian turned smoothly to Parker, his demeanor unreadable. "Mr. Black, as the buyer finalizing this transaction, we need your biometric signature."
Because this wasn't just about payment; it was about recognition. A lesser billionaire might've hesitated—not out of fear, but because this was uncharted territory. Even in elite circles, there were lines, and Parker was about to cross one.
He didn't even blink. He just rested his palm on the screen, fingers relaxed, almost indifferent.
A sharp hum. A pulse of scanning light. The system processed instantly.
It didn't just read his handprint—it mapped deeper. Bone structure. Capillary networks. A verification method so thorough that even a perfect clone wouldn't pass.
PARKER BLACK – VERIFIED.
The room didn't change, but the atmosphere did.
Tessa, sitting beside him, let her lips curl slightly. No one outside the Wilder family had ever used this payment system. Hell, some inside the family didn't get this level of access. And yet, Parker?
Parker just looked bored. Like he didn't know this was a Wilder direct clearance he just used.
The tablet shifted screens, loading up his full purchase list.
The numbers? Monumental. The names? Some of them classified.
Damian glanced at the data, completely unfazed. Of course, he already knew who Parker was buying for. That was part of his job—to know things without asking.
Still, he wasn't about to let this moment slip past.
"Oh, and Mr. Black—" Damian's voice was perfectly neutral. Too neutral. "Would you like to finalize payment for your other three orders as well?"
Tessa's gaze flicked to Damian, catching what he was doing. This wasn't just a simple question—it was a subtle challenge. Because buying eight millions plus things at this level? That was impressive. But casually greenlighting three separate high-level transactions, without a second thought? That was the difference between a man who had money and a man who had power.
Parker's mouth twitched, amused. Oh, he knew the game Damian was playing. The guy wanted confirmation. Wanted to see if Parker was just some lucky upstart, a rich boy with deep pockets but no actual weight.
Parker stretched lazily, completely unbothered, like he had all the time in the world. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he answered,
"Yeah. I want them processed all at once." No hesitation. No posturing. Just a command.
Damian held his gaze for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, then gave a single, crisp nod.
The transaction went through, smooth as silk.
Tessa, still leaning back, crossed her legs and observed the whole thing with quiet satisfaction. If anyone else had been here—anyone—they would've assumed Parker had been doing business at this level his entire damn life.
Now it was time for the best part of tonight!