Chapter 399 - 399: Presents! [FIXED!]

Kyle stepped out of the cab and into the grey London afternoon. His bones ached—not from the meeting with Dr. Vance, but from the weight of everything else. The search for Angelica, the deal with Pemberton and Viktor lurking somewhere in America. The constant, low-grade hum of anxiety that had become his default state.

"I need to reset," Kyle thought to himself.

He looked at his phone. No messages from Cassandra, no calls from Tony. The women were at the hotel, probably napping or watching something on the massive television in the suite.

"If I go back now, I'll just sit there. Staring at the walls lost in my thinking," Kyle muttered to himself.

That wasn't why he had brought them here. This trip was supposed to be a vacation—for them, at least. For him, it was cover. But cover only worked if he maintained the appearance of someone who actually took breaks.

"I have to spend time with them. Otherwise, what's the point?" Kyle understood this was an opportunity to make memories they can reflect on in the future.

He checked his watch. It was already late afternoon. Plenty of time before dinner so why not take a few more detours?

He told the cab driver to wait—offered him an extra hundred pounds to keep the meter running—and walked toward a storefront that gleamed like a jewel box in the grey London light.

Gucci.

The windows were artfully arranged: handbags on marble pedestals, shoes that cost more than most people's rent, scarves in colors that didn't exist in nature. Kyle had never been inside a Gucci store before. He had bought clothes online, mostly. Functional stuff, things that fit and didn't draw attention.

"But tonight, I'm not buying for myself."

Kyle thought to himself.

He pushed open the heavy glass door aside.

The interior was warm, lit like a gallery. A sales associate in a black dress approached him with a smile that was professional,it didn't have the same predatory smile as most corporatios. She had clearly sized him up in half a second—young, well-dressed, calm. He basically smelled like money and she knew it.

"Good afternoon, sir. Are you looking for anything specific?"

"Gifts," Kyle said. "For several people. Women. Different ages, different styles."

The associate's smile widened. "We have many options. May I ask your budget?"

Kyle thought about it. His net worth had crossed into billionaire territory awhile ago—approximately two billion, give or take market fluctuations. Numbers like that had stopped feeling real. They were just… numbers.

"Nothing too extravagant," he said. "But nothing cheap. Let's say… thirty five thousand pounds in total."

The associate's eyebrows rose slightly. She recovered quickly. "Of course. Right this way."

Kyle moved through the store like a man on a mission.

For Cassandra: a leather handbag in deep burgundy. Classic and elegant. The kind of thing she would never buy for herself because she was too practical. Kyle ran his fingers over the leather and nodded in approval.

"She'll love it" Kyle said with a thumbs up.

For Jane: a silk scarf in soft blues and greens. Timid nut gentle colors. Something she could wrap around her neck or tie in her hair.

The associate suggested a matching pair of gloves, Kyle added them without looking at the price.

For Ella: a belt with a gold buckle shaped like a lion's head. Bold and fiery, she would tease him for buying her something so flashy, but she would wear it anyway. Kyle could already hear her voice: "Trying to buy my affection, Kyle?"

For Jasmine: a small backpack in durable canvas, with leather trim. Not too grown-up. Not too childish. Something she could carry her books in—when she learned to read better. The associate offered to emboss her initials. Kyle agreed. J.

For Junior: a tiny pair of Gucci sneakers. Because if a baby couldn't wear designer shoes, what was even the point?

The associate rang up the items. The total came to thirty-five thousand pounds—just under forty-seven thousand dollars.

It was reasonable and right on the money.

Kyle pulled out his black card and the lady looked like she had seen a ghost the moment it came into view.

[Ding!]

Kyle smiled, it had been awhile since he saw this notification.

The cyan screen appeared in his vision—translucent, impossible for anyone else to see. The system he had lived with for months, the source of his wealth, his power, his strange, disconnected existence.

[Spent $39,900. 50X Critical Hit! Earned $1,995,000!]

[The money has been transferred to account XXX-XXX-XXX.]

[Spent at least $39,900 on a beautiful lady!]

Kyle blinked.

Kyle noticed it didn't include the money he had spent on Jasmine and Junior, as expected.

But he also noted the system didn't generate a new format despite Kyle buying for multiple women simultaneously.

However, this was the least important thing as long as he got his rebate which was in millions.

The system didn't explain, it never did.

But the relief hit him immediately—a warm wave washing away the tension in his shoulders. The rebate had triggered. He had made back more than fifty times what he spent. The numbers on his personal balance sheet ticked upward, and for a moment, everything felt manageable.

"Thank you."

He blinked again, and the cyan screen faded.

That was when he registered the voice.

"…quite a lot, you must have a lot of women in your life."

Kyle turned.

A woman stood a few feet away, near a display of sunglasses. She was looking at him with an expression that was half-amused, half-curious. Her accent was pure British—cut-glass, the kind that came from expensive schools and country weekends.

"I didn't hear her the first time." Kyle thought to himself, she was so darn short.

"Sorry," Kyle said. "I was distracted."

She tilted her head. "I noticed. You were staring at the counter like it had just insulted your bloody mother."

Kyle flashed a smile, "I'm sorry,"

She was extremely short. Four foot eleven, maybe. The top of her head wouldn't reach his shoulder. But her figure was striking—curves in all the right places, firm breasts straining against a cream-colored blouse. Her eyes were large, almost cartoonishly so, dark brown and framed by long lashes. Puppy-like. Innocent in a way that seemed deliberate.

And her lips.

Full, pillowy. The kind of lips that made men think things they shouldn't think.

Dick suckers.

Kyle pushed the thought away immediately.

"Not now, not here, I have to remain focused," Kyle thought to himself because at the end of the day, he had more than enough women for his sexual needs.

And for their sexual health, he couldn't be fucking just anyone he finds attractive.

"I'm Eleanor," she said, extending a small hand. Her nails were painted a deep red.

Kyle shook it, her skin was soft, warm.

"Kyle."

"American." She said it like she was diagnosing him.

"Guilty," Kyle responded.

"You're shopping for multiple women." She glanced at the bags the associate was boxing up. "Girlfriends? Wives? Sisters?"

"All of the above. None of the above." Kyle shrugged. "And all complicated."

Eleanor smiled. It changed her face—made her look younger.

"Complicated is my favorite kind of simple."

Kyle wasn't sure what that meant and he didn't ask either.

But he had heard that name before. From someone else. A different Eleanor. An older woman at a masked party, months ago, her hand on his arm, her voice a low purr. He had never learned much about her—just that she existed, that she was connected to people he didn't want to know, that she had looked at him like he was something to eat.

The associate finished boxing the items. Kyle signed the receipt, collected the bags, and nodded toward the door.

"Nice meeting you, Eleanor."

"You're leaving?" Eleanor questioned.

"I have people waiting for me," Kyle responded right away.

She didn't follow. Just watched him walk toward the exit, those big eyes tracking his every step.

-

Outside, the cab was still there. The driver was scrolling through his phone, unconcerned. Kyle loaded the bags into the boot and was about to climb in when he heard heels clicking on pavement.

"Kyle!"

He turned swiftly because why the hell was she shouting his name in the first place.

Eleanor had followed him out. She was wearing a coat now—cream-colored, belted at the waist, showing off her figure. The rain had stopped, but the air was damp with her cheeks slightly flushed.

"You forgot something," she said.

Kyle patted his pockets. Wallet? Phone? Keys? All there. Besides, there was no way he could forget anything with the skills he was blessed with by the system.

"What did I forget?" Kyle asked.

"My number." She pulled a small card from her coat pocket—embossed, expensive-looking. "In case you want company while you're in London. Not everyone here is as friendly as I am."

Kyle took the card. Eleanor and a phone number, nothing else.

"I'll think about it," he said.

She turned and walked back toward the store, her hips swaying just enough to be noticeable. Kyle watched her go for a second, then climbed into the cab.

The driver pulled away from the curb.

Kyle stared out the window, the card burning a hole in his pocket.

Not the older one. Just a girl with the same name amd Kyle hoped to God they weren't related.

He didn't believe in coincidences, not anymore. The system had taught him that everything was connected—money, power, people. The question was never if something meant something and what it was.

He thought about Eleanor's lips briefly, it would be a fling should he pursue anything but she seemed a little too good with such a setting. Kyle already knew what she wanted, it was clear but was he going to take the bait?

Kyle sighed, one would think swimming in coochie would be a blessing, not a curse.

He had a school to return to tomorrow. A girl named Maya to find, he didn't have time for such frivolous distractions.

And now a young woman named Eleanor had entered the picture. Coincidence? Probably or it could be bait, Kyle was that paranoid.

Kyle pulled out his phone and texted Cassandra: [[On my way back, I have surprises!]]

Her response came immediately: [[You didn't have to.]]

[[I know but I wanted to.]]

[[Hurry home. Jane ate all the snacks.]]

Kyle smiled. The cab turned onto the street leading to The Lanesborough.

The cab pulled up to the hotel. Kyle paid the driver—extra, as promised—and carried the bags inside.

The women were waiting for him and this beat coming home to an empty house. He already didn't regret bringing them with him as they kept his mind at ease.