Chapter 3: The Quinn Pact.
1095 Words
After the divorce, Arin Vale felt… lighter. Not happy, exactly, but free—like he’d been dragging around a chain for years and it finally slipped off his shoulders.
Ever since he’d married Serene Liora, his life had been under the constant shadow of her mother, Maera Thorn. That woman could talk for hours about dowries, family reputations, and how their wedding needed to “honor the Thorn legacy.” By the end, Arin had started to feel like a guest in his own life.
But now?
Now he could breathe again.
---
His thoughts were interrupted by a faint hum.
“Bzzz... bzzz…”
Lyra Quinn’s crystal communicator buzzed on the dashboard as she steered through the glowing streets of Eldoria. She tapped the rune to answer.
“Mm. Yeah. Got it,” she said, then ended the call, looking mildly annoyed.
Arin raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”
She groaned. “My family again. They’re trying to set me up—again.” Her gaze flicked toward him, and an idea clearly struck. “Hey, could you do me a favor? Just for tonight—pretend to be my boyfriend. Dinner, that’s it. I swear.”
Arin blinked. “Wait, me? I literally just got divorced. Isn’t that, like, super awkward?”
Lyra pouted. “Oh, come on. You owe me! Remember when I helped you earlier?”
He sighed, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. “Fine. But just dinner. No acting lessons, no fake love letters.”
Lyra grinned, victory flashing in her eyes. “Deal.”
---
They drove toward the royal district, Eldoria’s skyline shimmering with golden runes that pulsed like stars. A few minutes later, Lyra pulled up in front of The Gilded Griffin, a high-end place that screamed wealth and old money.
The doorman bowed low as soon as he saw her. “Miss Lyra,” he greeted warmly, motioning for attendants to lead them inside.
The restaurant glowed like molten gold. Every wall shimmered, every plate looked like it cost a month’s rent.
Lyra stepped into a private suite. “Father, Mother,” she said sweetly.
Lord Quinn sat at the head of the table—tall, broad-shouldered, looking every bit like the kind of man who’d built empires from scratch. Beside him sat Lady Selene Quinn, elegant and polished, her jewels catching every bit of candlelight.
Their attention landed on Arin immediately.
“Ah, Lyra,” Lord Quinn said, eyes glinting with curiosity. “And this young man is…?”
Lyra hesitated for half a heartbeat. “This is my boyfriend—Arin Vale. We studied together at the Academy.”
Arin offered a small nod. “Good evening, Lord and Lady Quinn.”
The moment he spoke, that strange power inside him—the Dominion Aura—stirred quietly. It wasn’t something you could see, but it changed the air somehow. People just… noticed him.
Lord Quinn motioned to a seat. “Please, join us.”
Arin sat down. He wasn’t dressed fancy, but his posture—calm, straight-backed, quietly confident—made him seem perfectly at ease. The Lord studied him, eyes softening just a little. Not greedy. Not fake. There’s strength in this one.
“As long as my daughter’s happy,” Lord Quinn thought, “money isn’t everything.”
---
Dinner went smoothly enough.
They asked about how long he and Lyra had known each other, what kind of work he did, and his plans for the future. Arin answered each question with calm, measured confidence—helped, no doubt, by that Dominion Aura flowing subtly through him.
But when he mentioned that he worked as a clerk at a small firm, both parents exchanged a quick look. Just a flicker, but he caught it.
Lyra’s voice tightened. “Father, he—”
Arin gently touched her hand under the table. A quiet, reassuring gesture. She stopped mid-sentence.
Lord Quinn leaned forward, brow furrowed. “A clerk? Hm.” His voice wasn’t judgmental, more thoughtful than anything. “A man like you seems wasted in such a job. You’ve got ambition—I can see it. That kind of work doesn’t suit you.”
Lady Selene nodded, agreeing.
Arin blinked. Ambition? Vision?
All he did was answer politely. Unless… maybe the Dominion Aura didn’t just make people afraid. Maybe it earned respect, too.
---
Then, Lord Quinn spoke again. “I’ve been thinking of opening a new trade company,” he said. “How about this—you’ll assist Lyra. She’ll be CEO, you’ll serve as her vice president. What do you say?”
Before Arin could respond, a familiar chime rang in his head.
Ding!
The host has encountered a life choice. Please select an option.
A faint blue screen shimmered in front of him.
> Option 1: Accept Lord Quinn’s offer — Reward: Skill of Arcane Commerce.
Option 2: Decline — Reward: A limited-edition Maserati supercar.
He didn’t even hesitate. Option 1.
He wasn’t about to turn down Lyra’s father in front of her—and honestly, he could always buy a car later. Skills, on the other hand? Those lasted forever.
As soon as he chose, the system’s voice faded, replaced by a rush of energy that flooded his mind.
Congratulations! You have acquired: Skill of Arcane Commerce.
Suddenly, everything around him seemed clearer. Sharper. His thoughts flowed like water.
---
Lord Quinn smiled and raised his glass. “Excellent. I look forward to seeing what you’re capable of, young man.”
Their glasses clinked softly. A deal was made.
Dinner carried on with easy conversation, laughter, and a few knowing smiles. When her parents finally left, Lyra turned to him with an amused glint in her eyes.
“I asked you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” she said, “and now you’re suddenly my vice president.”
Her tone was teasing, but her cheeks flushed a light pink.
Arin chuckled. “What, you don’t want me hanging around?”
“Of course I do!” she blurted, then froze, realizing what she’d just said. “I mean—don’t get the wrong idea!”
He smiled. “Too late.”
She crossed her arms, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll pick you up for work. Don’t be late, Vice President Vale.”
Arin grinned as she turned away, pretending to be annoyed but clearly flustered.
For the first time in a long while, he felt that maybe—just maybe—freedom didn’t have to be lonely.
- Writer
