Soo-Jin hesitated at the edge of the showroom, quiet beneath the noise.
Amanda and Emma found her instantly, their warmth giving her courage. Then I approached â steady, calm, unyielding.
"You did not choose anything, darling."
Soo-Jin froze like a deer at a luxury auction. "I... I canât take this much. I donât give enoughâ"
"Family only, Soo-Jin. Not strangers. Family."
Her confidence flickered, then held. Mercedes-Benz G63 AMG ($180,000) â safety forged into power. Porsche Macan GTS ($90,000) â quiet speed, subtle strength.
Total: $270,000.
She didnât need to roar. Her presence was enough.
My haremâs final total? $22,598,000 USD
While the girls hunted like goddesses on commission, I moved through the dealerships like a man possessed by purpose. ARIA whispered, I decided, and together we built a symphony of machines that could probably bankrupt small nations. But heyâknowledge isnât cheap, and neither is taste.
Mercedes-Benz Collection
AMG One (custom, grey titanium, V.D. package) â $2,700,000G-Wagon G63 AMG â $180,000AMG GT Black Series â $325,000AMG SL 63 â $185,000AMG S63 E-Performance â $185,000E63 S AMG Wagon â $120,000
Mercedes Subtotal:
$3,695,000
I didnât buy them for fun. Each engine note, each design flaw, was a lesson. The AMG One roared like a war cry; the wagon was an apology to practicality. Together, they formed a library in motion.
Rolls-Royce Collection
Ghost Series II (pale blue, ARIAâs pick) â $400,000Spectre (all-electric) â $420,000Cullinan Series â $350,000Phantom VIII â $500,000
Rolls-Royce Subtotal:
$1,670,000
Elegance weaponized. The kind of cars that didnât drive â they
glided through opinions
. ARIA said the pale blue suited my "psychological profile." I didnât argue; sheâs usually right about my demons.
Bugatti Collection
The private Bugatti gallery was built like a temple, and even I â whoâd stared into darker heavens â had to pause.
Chiron Pur Sport â $3,600,000Tourbillon â $4,000,000
Bugatti Subtotal:
$7,600,000
The Chiron was mechanical perfection; the Tourbillon was something else â a sermon in carbon fiber. I didnât smile. I just nodded. You donât grin in church.
Hypercar Research Collection;
ARIA called it a "comprehensive engineering study." I called it
expensive curiosity.
Pagani Huayra Imola â $5,400,000 (Italian insanity, art on steroids)Koenigsegg Jesko Attack â $3,000,000 (Swedish lunacy with a God complex)Koenigsegg Gemera â $1,700,000 (four seats, because apparently family matters now)Rimac Nevera â $2,400,000 (Croatian lightning in a battery)Ferrari Daytona SP3 â $2,300,000 (the last scream of a V12 before extinction)Ferrari 296 GTB â $330,000 (V6 hybrid, efficient like a sociopath)McLaren Speedtail â $2,250,000 (250 mph of British denial)
Lotus Evija: $2,300,000
(shock therapy on four wheels)
Czinger 21C: $1,700,000
(3D-printed chaos, Made in L.A.)
Hypercar Subtotal:
$21,380,000
If the world ended tomorrow, Iâd outrun the apocalypse.
Lamborghini Collection
Aventador SVJ: $520,000Revuelto (the V12 hybrid flagship): $608,000Veneno Roadster: $9,000,000
Lamborghini Subtotal:
$10,128,000
Lamborghini never built cars. They built weapons.And I wanted all three.
Miscellaneous Power Plays
McLaren 765LT: $380,000Porsche 911 Turbo S: $230,000Custom Mercedes Sprinter Van (luxury conversion, seating for 12): $250,000
My research final total was
$44,833,000
Even accountants get nervous when I walk into a dealership.
I sighedâhalf satisfaction, half exhaustion.
Iâd bought a van too. A ridiculous, overbuilt luxury Sprinter, because apparently
being God comes with errands.
The Settlement Fund for my women was $20.
That $20 million that followed covered everything the women would need to truly
settle in
:
Wardrobes & Fashion:
full designer collections for every season and sin.
Beauty & Cosmetics:
everything from Chanel to shit that hasnât hit the shelves yet.
Jewelry & Accessories:
elegant, not excessive. He preferred the shine to be in their eyes.
Personal Tech:
laptops, tablets, phonesâthe kind that donât glitch under divine hands.
Logistics:
professional movers, bulletproof organization.
Supply Stock:
daily luxuries, imported everything.
Miscellaneous:
the thousand little things that make a house a home... or a palace a fortress.
By the time the receipts stopped printing, La Cherry looked like it had hosted a royal invasion.
I didnât buy cars. I
curated
dominance.
"Buy everything in plenty before we settle it," I had said, and they had. Every woman armed, every whim granted. No desire left unattended. No excuse for mediocrity in my orbit.
I stared at the figure blinking back at me. Seventy-nine point seven million dollars. In one day. At one mall. Most humans would need
three lifetimes
and a lottery win to reach that number. I, however, had a mild headache and a latte.
I laughed. Actually laughed, the kind of laugh that makes accountants consider early retirement and salespeople question life choices. The sound bounced off the Bugatti showroom walls like champagne corks shot at an art gallery.
"ARIA," I muttered, because even artificial intelligences need the occasional verbal affirmation, "I just spent more on cars than most people earn in lifetimes."
"Correction," ARIA replied, deadpan as ever. "You spent more on automotive research and family investment than most corporations earn in a fiscal year. Your net worth regenerates this amount in approximately two days if I leverage all trading channels."
"Ah, a challenge," I said, lips curling. "A friendly invitation to chaos."
"It is a mathematical observation. But if you interpret it as permission to continueâ"
"Done," I said. One word. Sharp. Final. Deliciously absolute.
Charlotte, forever the human embodiment of corporate efficiency, sighed and signed documents with the precision of a neurosurgeon. "Liberation Holdings will process everything. Corporate purchaseâfaster, cleaner." Her eyes met mine, a hint of awe hiding behind the calm. "You know this is insane, right?"
"Insane would be wasting knowledge," I said, gesturing toward the gleaming parade of automotive royalty. "These arenât trophies, Charlotte. Theyâre textbooks. Each engine, each system, every questionable aesthetic choiceâI study it all. Because in twelve months, I wonât be driving other peopleâs designs. Iâll be creating my own. Superior. Untouchable. Ours Charlotte. US"
Amanda leaned in, voice low, eyes gleaming. "Youâre going to build your own."
"Better," I corrected. Always better.
*
The custom Mercedes Sprinter Van ($250,000) led the convoyâa rolling palace for twelve, reclining captain chairs, ambient lighting that could seduce a monk, and entertainment systems that made first-class feel like a trailer park. Behind it, the rest of the fleet paraded like apex predators: Pagani, Koenigseggs, Rimac, Bugattisâall roaring, growling, promising secrets.
Legal teams moved faster than physics would allow, bending reality like taffy. Contracts flew, titles transferred, insurance clicked into place. La Cherryâs staff gawked like theyâd stumbled into a natural disaster labeled
Eros Carter: The Human Hurricane.
iPhones raised, jaws slack, envy radiating in waves.
I sat in the Sprinter, surveying my women at the wheels of their new kingdoms. Emma waved from her Mini, innocence wrapped in precision. Sofiaâs Cullinan bulldozed metaphorical traffic. Lunaâs Aventador growled like it owned the nightâand maybe it did. Somewhere in the mix, the Pagani, three Koenigseggs, a Rimac, and two Bugattis prowled, teaching me their secrets, whispering, screaming, challenging.
"Eighty-seven million," I muttered aloud.
"Eighty-seven point seven million," ARIA corrected, the tiniest hint of condescension threading her voice. "Cars, research, and everything required to establish fifteen women in permanent luxury. Return on investment: incalculable."
I smirked. Numbers were nice, but powerâoh, power was sweeter.
"Let them watch," I said, eyes sweeping the horizon like a king inspecting new territory. "Let the universe know: I spend like a mortal, think like a god, and collect knowledge like it owes me tribute. And no oneânot one soulâis untouchable."
Behind me, the engines growled. Around me, the world quietly recalibrated itself for my presence. A Bugatti purred. A Koenigsegg screamed. Somewhere, an accountant died a little inside.
I leaned back, letting the parade of steel, leather, and hubris carry me forward. A dayâs work? More like an
overture
. And tomorrow? Oh, tomorrow, we build empires.
Amanda leaned against me, her head heavy on my shoulder like she owned the gravity in the room.
"Regrets?"
"Not one." I let my gaze sweep over the convoy, engines purring hymns to excess and ambition, each machine a note in my private symphony of domination. "ARIAâs right. I wonât drive other companiesâ cars forever.
These arenât toysâtheyâre textbooks. Blueprints. Lessons in metal, horsepower, and ego. Each choice is a data point: why this engine works, why that hybrid manages torque like a magician, why the ergonomics force the human body into submission.
And yes... I want my women satisfied. I have billions. Thisâthis spree? Not even two percent of my net worth. Over-spending? Sure. Caring? Not in the slightest.
What use is a billion if you canât make the ones you love want for nothing? Knowledge, pleasure, loyaltyâtheyâre all currency, and I plan to invest wisely."
I didnât need to finish the sentence. She understood.
I grew up poor. I knew that itch, that ache for whatâs always just out of reachâthe kind that wrecks minds and fuels bad decisions. I didnât get these women to make them crave what they couldnât have.
No. I did this for them, will do the same for the ones already mine, for those yet to come, for my family. Every smile, every satisfied glance? Quest complete. Level unlocked. I wasnât indulging; I was
optimizing happiness like a strategy game
.
If they were fulfilled, loyal, and inspired, the empire I built would be built on devotion rather than fear. Thatâs leverage, and leverage wins wars without firing a shot.
The convoy rolled onward, a parade of steel, leather, and unapologetic audacity. I wasnât wasting moneyâI was
engineering influence, command, and obsession
. Each car, each piece of tech, each luxury item, was a node in a network I controlled, a moving library of power and seduction.
Girls: $24,268,000. Me: $44,833,000. Settlement: $20,000,000. TOTAL: $87,701,000. A number that could make most mortals weep. I didnât. I calculated, I observed, I conquered.
Every dollar was a lesson, every transaction a strategic imprint on reality.
The cosmos would not curse me for hoarding knowledge.
It would curse me if I stopped. And I never intended to stop. Not when
empire, loyalty, pleasure, and intellect
were all in my grasps, optimized, and fused into the ultimate equation of my being.
I was already three moves ahead, watching the patterns, predicting reactions, ensuring that when history remembered this day, it wouldnât be about excessâit would be about genius.