mtlumby2d Chapter 158: First Meeting
Chapter 158: First Meeting
The heavy glass doors of the Patek Philippe salon closed behind them with a muted, pressurized click, instantly cutting off the reverent bows of the staff inside.
Stepping back into the main corridor of the Haute Horlogerie sector, the contrast was immediate. The afternoon sun was hitting the upper glass prisms of the Central Galleria, casting long, geometric beams of golden light across the polished marble walkways. Down on the lower levels, the hum of regular weekend shoppers sounded distant, like waves crashing outside a fortified castle.
Aliya walked with her left arm held completely rigid, angled slightly upward as if she were carrying a priceless glass artifact. Her right hand kept the vlogging rig perfectly centered on the rose-gold Nautilus, the factory-set baguette diamonds catching the overhead halogen lights and throwing tiny, blinding prismatic shards across her face.
"Alright, chat, I’m putting a literal warning label on this episode," Aliya murmured into her microphone, her voice carrying a breathless, manic edge. "We just left store number three. If you thought the Saint Laurent haul at 784,000 marks was wild, or the Chanel run at 1,482,500 marks was insane... my brother just casually dropped 20,700,000 marks on three watches. Twenty point Seven. Million. My wrist currently costs more than a luxury estate on the coast."
Behind her, Kovacs shifted his weight, his massive frame effortlessly creating a physical buffer zone between Aliya and a pair of passing teenagers who had stopped to stare at her camera. His hand remained casually tucked inside his suit jacket, his eyes sweeping the glass balconies above with cold, rhythmic efficiency.
Jake kept his pace slow and measured, his hands back in his pockets. The white-gold casing of the Sky Moon Tourbillon felt heavy against his skin—a solid, dense reminder of the absolute liquidity currently sitting behind his name. He glanced down at Catherine, noting the way she was holding her leather designer tote close to her chest, her right hand clamped tightly over the zipper where the platinum watch box was tucked away.
’She’s still wound up tightly,’ Jake thought, his eyes tracking the slight tension in her shoulders. ’Even after everything, her instinct is to shield herself from the sheer weight of the wealth.’
"You’re going to squeeze the leather right off that bag if you hold it any tighter, Cath," Jake said softly, his voice cutting through the ambient hum of the mall.
Catherine blinked, jolting out of her thoughts. She looked up at him, a faint, self-deprecating smile pulling at her lips as she realized how defensive her posture had become. She loosened her grip on the strap by a fraction, though she didn’t move her hand away from the zipper.
"I can’t help it, Jake," she admitted, her voice dropping so Aliya wouldn’t pick it up on the audio feed. "Every time I think about what’s sitting in this bag, my mind goes completely blank. Twenty-three million marks in less than four hours. That’s more capital than many companies handle in a fiscal year. It doesn’t feel real."
"It’s just numbers on an account," Jake replied evenly, his tone completely flat, as if they were discussing the weather rather than a multi-million-mark shopping spree. "The only difference between a hundred marks and twenty million is the depth of the account behind it. Once you cross the baseline of absolute liquidity, the prices simply align with whatever you choose to look at."
"Easy for you to say," Catherine murmured, though the steady, cold certainty in his eyes had its usual grounding effect on her. The tight knot in her chest unraveled by a millimeter. "You’ve had months to build up a tolerance to it. I’m still trying to figure out how to explain a five-million-mark watch to my roommates if they ever ask to see my wrist."
"Tell them it’s a corporate insurance policy," Jake said, a rare, microscopic twitch of humor hitting the corner of his mouth. "Technically, it is."
"Hey! You two lovebirds need to speed up!" Aliya called out, spinning around on her heel twenty paces ahead. She panned the camera down the wide marble mezzanine toward the main exit plaza. "The white-glove couriers from Chanel are probably already tracking the Audi’s GPS. I want to be back at the penthouse before the flatbed arrives with the Brabus and the Aventador. We need to orchestrate the ultimate garage reveal for the channel!"
"We’re coming," Catherine laughed, quickening her step to close the gap.
As the trio approached the sweeping glass entrance, the heavy double doors automatically slid open. The crisp, temperature-controlled air of the Galleria was instantly replaced by the thick, sun-baked warmth of Veyra’s northern avenue.
Parked directly within the yellow-painted executive bay was the black Audi RS 6, its aggressive matrix LED headlights flickering once as Elias spotted them through the tinted glass. He immediately stepped out, his tailored suit completely unwrinkled despite the afternoon heat, and held the rear passenger door open with a precise, stiff-backed bow.
"Everything processed to your satisfaction, Mr. Rivers?" Elias asked, his eyes briefly scanning the immediate perimeter before locking back onto Jake.
"Everything is handled," Jake nodded, guiding Catherine into the leather interior before sliding in beside her.
Aliya climbed into the front passenger seat, instantly adjusting her rig to face the dashboard while Kovacs took his position in the lead SUV parked thirty meters ahead. The moment the heavy doors sealed shut, the muted roar of the Audi’s twin-turbo V8 rumbled through the chassis, the digital instrument cluster lighting up with a series of automated system diagnostics.
The convoy smoothly pulled away from the curb, merging into the clean, palm-lined lanes of the luxury district.
Through the tinted window, Jake watched the glass facades of the Central Galleria recede into the distance. The digital clock on the dashboard read 3:45 PM. The absolute silence of the cabin was only broken by the faint, rapid clicking of Aliya’s fingers as she began splicing together the raw files on her phone, her face illuminated by the blue glow of her editing software.
By the time the convoy pulled into the private garage of the Zenith, the first round of delivery vans was already waiting.
The building’s private concierge team was deployed in full force. Two uniformed attendants were carefully loading the sleek, matte-black Saint Laurent garment bags and the glossy, crisp Chanel shopping boxes onto a gold-rimmed luggage cart.
"Make sure those white Chanel shoe boxes are stacked flat," Aliya ordered, stepping out of the front seat with her camera still humming. "The tweed flats are fragile!"
"Right away, Miss Rivers," the head concierge replied, keeping his head bowed low as he navigated the cart toward the private express elevator.
Upstairs in the sprawling, minimalist penthouse, the arrivals didn’t stop. Ten minutes after they threw their keys onto the marble foyer table, the doorbell rang. It was the white-glove courier from the exotic vehicle district, accompanied by Elias. On the tablet screen he presented to Jake, four vehicle titles stood ready for final digital signature: the Mercedes-AMG G63 Wagon, the Lamborghini Urus Performante, the Brabus G900 Rocket Edition, and the bare-carbon Aventador SVJ.
"Everything has been successfully unloaded Mr. Rivers," Elias reported, handing over the electronic key fobs wrapped in custom velvet pouches. "The McLaren P1 is currently cleared and will arrive via covered transport at exactly 6:00 PM."
"Good," Jake murmured, signing the screen with a quick swipe of his thumb.
Aliya practically snatched the keys to the Urus and the G-Wagon from the tray, letting out a celebratory yell as she sprinted toward the balcony to try and catch a glimpse of the lower driveway. "Double delivery! I need to change my outfit right now for the garage vlog!"
As the afternoon light faded into a warm, amber twilight over the Veyra coast line, the chaotic energy of the daytime shopping spree finally began to settle. The living room was filled with the subtle, expensive scent of new leather, silk packaging, and high-end cardboard.
Catherine stepped out onto the wrap-around balcony, leaning her forearms against the glass balustrade. The ocean breeze caught her hair, cooling her face after the long day. Jake walked out a moment later, a glass of water in hand, and stood beside her.
"Tired?" he asked, his voice low.
"A little," Catherine admitted, turning her head to smile at him. She looked at the vast expanse of the city lights beginning to flicker to life below them. "It’s just been a lot of moving around. Honestly, the thought of going out to another loud, exclusive restaurant tonight makes my head hurt a bit. What if we just stayed in and had dinner here at home? Just something quiet."
Before Jake could answer, the glass sliding door creaked open and Aliya poked her head out, her phone finally resting face down in her pocket.
"Wait, did someone say dinner at home?" Aliya asked, her eyes lighting up. She walked out to join them, leaning against the railing next to Catherine. "If we’re staying in, we should absolutely invite Mom and Dad over! I mean, think about it. Jake has been living in this massive, ridiculous penthouse for months now, and they haven’t even seen the place yet. Every time I talk to Mom on the phone, she complains that Jake is too busy with Golden Investments to invite them over."
Jake paused, his fingers lightly tapping the side of his glass. He thought about it for a second. His parents were still living in their regular suburban home, completely detached from the multi-million-mark reality he now operated in. Having them over to the Zenith was a logical step, but his eyes instantly drifted to Catherine.
"It’s a good idea," Jake said slowly, his cold gaze shifting directly to her face, searching her expression. "But only if you’re comfortable with it, Cath. It’s the first time you’d be meeting them. If you want it to be just us tonight, I can schedule them for next weekend."
Catherine’s heart gave a sudden, nervous thud. ’Meeting his parents. Tonight.’ Her mind raced through the implications. She looked at her casual clothes, then thought about her humble background compared to the penthouse they were in.
"I... I’m completely fine with meeting them, Jake," Catherine said, her voice genuine, though a slight flush hit her cheeks. She offered a small, hesitant smile. "Really, I’d love to meet them. But... cooking for your parents on the very first meeting might be a little too much pressure for me. I don’t think my nerves could handle trying to manage a five-course meal while trying to make a good first impression."
Jake let out a short, relaxed laugh, stepping closer to her and reaching down to slip his hand firmly into hers.
"You don’t need to cook a single thing," Jake told her softly, his eyes locking onto hers with an absolute, reassuring warmth. "We aren’t trying to impress anyone. I’ll just have Elias contact the Crown and order dinner, have it delivered upstairs, and have it at home as a family."
Catherine froze slightly, her breath catching in her throat.
’As a family.’
The words echoed in her mind, completely bypassing her nervous thoughts about the dinner. Hearing Jake use that specific word—so casually, so naturally, and including her directly within it—sent a massive, sudden wave of heat straight to her face. Her ears turned a deep, bright pink, and she rapidly lowered her gaze to the floor, her fingers tightening gripped around his palm as she tried to hide the massive, uncontrollable blush spreading across her cheeks.
"Oh, look at you!" Aliya teased instantly, pointing a finger at Catherine’s face and laughing loudly. "Mom hasn’t even walked through the door yet and you’re already blushing like a schoolgirl just from the ’F-word’! Jake, stop smoothing things over, you’re making her nervous."
"Shut up, Al," Jake said flatly, though his arm moved smoothly around Catherine’s waist, drawing her closer against his side to shield her from his sister’s teasing. "Go call Mom and tell them to be here by seven."
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