The story was packed with high-stakes elements—intense hand-to-hand combat in elevator shafts, a daring rooftop chase involving drones and parkour, explosive set pieces where Kira rigs the building's security system against the villains.
A twist betrayal by her supposed ally, leading to a showdown in the AI core room.
Car chases through crowded streets, gadgetry like EMP devices and holographic decoys, and themes of survival and sacrifice made it pulse with energy.
[This is gold. Adapted from that other world—Earth, right? Like those 'Die Hard' or 'Mission: Impossible' vibes, but with a badass woman lead. I can make this huge in the industry.]
The system chimed approvingly.
"Script details: 120 pages, ready for adaptation. Now, a new task is assigned: Ensure Callista Thorne sees the script without you directly handing it to her. Reward upon completion: Instant Wealth Boost—10x your current hidden fortune, deposited discreetly."
Seraphina raised an eyebrow at her reflection.
[10x? That's massive. My assassin's stash is already hefty—this could set me up for life.]
From the webnovels she'd recalled, systems often gave such escalating rewards for clever tasks, building the host's power step by step.
"How will you carry out this task, Host?" the system asked, its voice curious, almost like a nosy friend.
She smirked. "Don't worry about it. I've got this." [Leave it on the table, let her find it naturally. Simple.]
To cover her tracks, she flushed the toilet—a normal sound if Callista stirred—making a soft whoosh that echoed slightly.
[Oops, a little splash. But it'll do.]
She unlocked the door just as quietly, using the same towel-muffle trick, and slipped back into the bedroom.
The room was still dim, Callista unchanged in her sleep.
Seraphina placed the script on the coffee table near the couch, right beside her phone, as if it had been there all along—casual, unassuming.
[There. Task in motion.]
She tiptoed back to the bed, sliding under the sheets.
Callista murmured something incoherent, her arm instinctively wrapping around Seraphina's waist again, pulling her close.
Seraphina nestled in, feeling the warmth of Callista's body against her back.
[This feels... nice. Safe, even.]
She closed her eyes, drifting off with a small smile.
Sunlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting a warm glow over the suite.
Seraphina stirred around 8:30 AM, her body aching pleasantly from the night before.
She blinked awake, noticing first the soft blanket tucked around her carefully, like someone had adjusted it during the night.
Then, the arm around her waist—Callista's, strong and protective.
But Callista wasn't lying down. She was sitting up against the headboard, her dark hair tousled, wearing an unbuttoned white shirt that revealed her small, firm breasts and toned abs.
In her hands was the script, Shadow Siege, her green eyes scanning the pages intently.
[She found it. Task complete, I guess.]
Seraphina shifted slightly, and Callista looked down, a soft smile breaking across her face.
"Morning," Callista said, her voice husky from sleep.
She set the script aside momentarily, leaning down to brush a kiss on Seraphina's forehead.
It was tender, heartwarming—like those moments in cringy romances where vulnerability shines through after a night of passion.
Before Seraphina could respond, the door to the suite opened with a click.
In walked two men:
Elias Reed, Callista's assistant, a fussy man in his thirties with neat glasses and a tablet in hand.
Jax Harlan, her personal bodyguard, a burly guy with a stoic expression and arms like tree trunks.
They were carrying documents and a briefcase, clearly here for a morning briefing.
They froze in the doorway, eyes widening in shock. Elias dropped a stack of papers, scattering them on the carpet.
"Miss Thorne, I—we didn't realise you had... company." His face turned beet red, stammering like a character in a comedy romance novel.
Jax averted his eyes quickly, coughing awkwardly. "Uh, protocol says we clear the room first, but... yeah." He looked like he'd rather face a gunfight than this scene.
Seraphina couldn't help but laugh, a light, bubbly sound that filled the room.
[This is hilarious. The big bad bodyguard blushing?]
She sat up, pulling the duvet around her modestly to cover her naked form, her big breasts pressing against the fabric.
"Relax, gentlemen. It's not a crime scene. Though, from your faces, you'd think it was."
Callista chuckled, her arm still around Seraphina's waist, holding her close. "Elias, Jax—meet Seraphina. And yes, she's staying."
She kissed Seraphina softly on the lips, a gentle, lingering touch that made Seraphina's heart flutter.
It was heartwarming, like those unforgettable gay romance moments where love blooms unexpectedly.
Elias adjusted his glasses, picking up the papers. "Of course, Miss Thorne. We just... you don't usually..."
He trailed off, implying her reputation for not letting women get close.
Jax nodded, still looking at the floor. "Orders?"
Callista glanced at the script. "First, did you write this, Seraphina? Shadow Siege? It's brilliant—high-stakes action, strong female lead. I found it on the table."
Seraphina nodded, her blue eyes sparkling. "Yes, I did. Glad you like it."
[Task done. Reward incoming, system?]
"I'm hungry," she added, rubbing her stomach dramatically for effect.
Callista smiled, turning to Jax. "Order breakfast—pancakes, eggs, coffee, fresh fruit. And bring new clothes for us both. Something comfortable for Seraphina."
Jax saluted awkwardly. "On it."
He and Elias exchanged glances, still shocked but warming up with small smiles— the scene turning from funny to endearing.
As they left, Callista pulled Seraphina closer, their bodies fitting together under the duvet.
"Last night was amazing," she whispered. "Stay for breakfast?"
Seraphina leaned in, kissing her back. "Wouldn't miss it."