Sunny afternoon. A sky too blue to seem real.
And at the center of a private golf course, surrounded by laser-trimmed grass, strategically placed ornamental trees, and decorative fountains softly playing classical music... stood Luna.
Dressed in a fitted white sport set, gleaming sneakers, matching visor, and a titanium golf club with rose gold detailing, she positioned the ball on the immaculate turf with an almost... bored expression.
"Okay. Position. Breathe. Aim. Hip rotation. Swing like you don't have a thousand dollars hanging from your wrist."
She breathed, rotated, and...
CLACK!
The ball soared through the blue sky like a miniature comet, making a perfect trajectory toward the hole...
...only to land directly in a small ornamental fountain that wasn't part of the plan.
"Ugh. Again."
Beside her, an impeccably dressed butler held a tray with iced drinks, a towel, and of course, the latest iPhone 16 Pro in white gold.
"Miss Luna," he said smoothly. "A call from Miss Victória Lancaster-Monroe."
Luna, still resting the club on her shoulder, arched an eyebrow. "The violet-haired one? From the glitter dessert?"
"Precisely."
She took the phone with a lazy swipe. "Hello?"
From the other end, Victória's unmistakably energetic voice burst through. "Luuuuna! Oh good, you answered! I was just thinking about you, I swear by Gucci!"
"I hope this isn't an invitation to some occult ritual with champagne and flamingos."
"Hahaha, not yet. But now that you mention it... Anyway, serious talk: let's go out tonight? Me, you, Lumine and Nikoly. Something light, fun... Just amazing girls being dangerously fabulous together."
Luna looked around the course.
The butler was already placing a new ball on the grass.
She sighed. "Victória, I just hit a fountain on my fifth swing attempt. If I stay here another half hour, I'll start talking to the decorative birds. So yes. I'm in."
Victória cheered. "Perfeeeect! And please, come fabulous but like you're not trying. That 'born-rich, effortless, might-cause-accidents-with-a-glance' vibe. You know?"
Luna smiled. "That's my default setting."
"Knew you'd say that. Kisses! Get ready to slay!"
Luna returned the phone to the butler, twirled the club like a sword and said distantly: "Golf is boredom disguised as elegance. Time to schedule some social chaos."
Ivy appeared in miniature at the edge of the course, floating. "You've finally tired of pretending to care about aristocratic sports. Updating personality profile: 'sarcastic princess with trauma history and dangerous golf club.'"
Luna laughed, walking back to the mansion.
As soon as she stepped onto the polished marble hallway, the wall panels lit up sequentially, as if even the architecture was eagerly awaiting the show.
Ivy floated beside her in holographic fashionista mode, wearing a boa, high heels, and holding an imaginary cocktail. "Miss Luna, time to choose the look. Options available: 'Casually cruel', 'Subtlety that humiliates', or 'Disguised as civilian but still goddess.'"
"Hmm... something between the second and third. I want to slay, but look like I didn't try."
"Understood. Activating 'Fluid Danger with Noble Lipstick' mode."
The closet opened like an enchanted museum vault.
Rows of dresses hung from golden rods, shoes arranged like artworks, limited-edition bags displayed in envy-repelling glass cases (probably).
Luna walked barefoot, fingers brushing fabrics.
Velvet? No.
Satin? Hmm...
Sapphire-blue reflective black organza with diagonal cut? Yes.
She carefully removed the piece, feeling its soft glow between her fingers.
Paired it with micro-diamond-encrusted stilettos.
Long silver sapphire earrings.
Light makeup, glowing skin, burnt-red lipstick with a 'bite-and-conquer' finish.
Ivy commented: "Miss, this look has a 93% chance of eliciting sighs, 82% chance of passive-aggressive hatred from insecure women, and 74% chance of instant romantic rumors."
"Perfect. Just need the perfume that makes rich people sweat nervously."
Ivy nodded. "Discreetly applied Essence No.13: Ego Melted in 3 Seconds."
Minutes later, Luna descended the stairs.
And at the end of the grand hallway, the double glass doors opened to reveal... the temple of motorized dreams: her garage.
Luxurious.
Soft blue LED lighting.
Impeccable flooring.
Black lion statues.
And centered on a rotating black marble platform...
The Bugatti Divo—metallic black with chrome-pink accents, custom detailing with discreet "L.V.N." monogram engraved on the rear.
Luna approached it with a near-predatory smile.
The car's lights activated automatically, recognizing its owner.
The engine's awakening was deep, sensual—a roar of adrenaline-fueled royalty.
She entered, doors whispering shut behind her.
A tap on the digital dashboard:
"How you like that...?!" BLACKPINK began blasting through the surround sound system.
Luna turned up the volume.
The beat dropped.
The engine growled.
She accelerated.
Tires traced smooth curves along the mansion's private road leading to the illuminated city.
Wind in her hair, flawless lipstick, sharp gaze.
"How you like that...?!" repeated as Luna smiled at the road, driving like the world was hers.
Elsewhere in the city...
A place where elites don't just drink, but decide cities' fates between toasts and whispers.
Amber lighting.
Renaissance ceiling paintings... with neon touches.
Dark leather walls.
At center: a circular white marble table occupied by three impossible-to-ignore women.
All holding imperial pink hibiscus petal-infused sparkling wine.
They laughed.
Conversed.
Casually inspired envy.
Victória took a delicate sip. "The Lancasters are finalizing Croatian land purchases. Insane coastal potential. So cheap it's offensive. We're building five-star hotels and a floating resort..."
"...The hard part? Convincing Dad not to name everything after his kids. Like, imagine 'Victória Lancaster Resort'. Sounds like a 90s cruise ship."
Lumine laughed with irony. "At least it's human. My father tried trademarking 'Edelweiss No.37 – Scent of Economic Victory'. Family intervention required."
"You all have naming issues." Nikoly twirled her glass. "Hoshinami Group's exploring American real estate. Ghost towns, old military bases... forgotten places. Perfect for cyber-zen luxury paradises."
Victória blinked. "Like... meditation bunkers?"
"Exactly."
They laughed.
Not because it was funny—but because it was true.
And absurdly feasible.
Lumine set down her glass. "Edelweiss Films invested heavily in a Chinese project last week. €300 million. Sci-fi based on an 8th-century poem. Visually stunning. Almost no dialogue."
Nikoly arched a brow. "That's bold."
"It's art." Lumine smiled.
Victória's eyes sparkled.
For a moment, silence fell as they observed their surroundings.
Nobles from every corner, disguised magnates, young heirs being groomed to dominate nations without raising their voices.
This was a sanctuary of power... masquerading as a nightclub.
Victória voiced what they all thought: "Is Luna coming?"
Nikoly nodded without looking away from the entrance. "She said yes. And she doesn't seem the type to flake."
Lumine smiled subtly. "Curious. We know nothing about her. No family name. No society column history. No diplomatic event records. Yet when she enters a room... it's like the environment rearranges its priorities."
Victória bit her rose gold straw and laughed. "She's an enigma in expensive lipstick. And I'm obsessed."
Nikoly toyed with the holographic menu. "Perhaps a recluse billionaire's daughter. Or a microstate princess hidden in the Alps."
Lumine studied her drink, murmuring as if suspecting: "Or something entirely different..."
Then... they heard it.
Not the car itself.
But the vibration.
The collective whisper at the entrance.
The subtle sound of doors parting.
Gazes being pulled, as if by gravity.
Victória turned excitedly.
Nikoly smiled silently.
Lumine raised a brow.
And then, at the end of the gilded mirrored hallway...
Luna entered.