Devilish secretary - Chapter 307

Chapter 307: Chapter 307 Lilith proposal
She tied her hair up and got to her desk. The laptop blinked awake. Notes were already scattered around from last night, some scribbled on paper, others typed across multiple documents. Her focus sharpened like a blade. She didn’t allow herself any distractions.

Her whole day was spent perfecting her proposal, checking numbers, adjusting visuals, rewriting the opening statement at least six times. It had to be perfect.

Because once one investor said yes—just one—the rest would follow.

And once the company lifted off the ground, once her invention became real, visible, useful… she wouldn’t need to chase power anymore. It would find her.

She didn’t care for glory.

But she did care about protecting what was hers.

As for fame? That, too, was slowly coming closer. With Nina’s recommendation and the role she would soon audition for, the entertainment world would know her name soon enough. Maybe not today. Maybe not next week. But when it happened… no one would dare ask if she was worthy of standing beside Sebastian Carter.

Because she’d already be standing far ahead of their expectations.

And as she typed one more paragraph on the final page of her pitch, her eyes blurred a little.

She rubbed her tired eyes, fingers pressing gently against her temples. It had been hours. She hadn’t realized how long she’d been sitting there—so focused, so silent—that the weight behind her eyelids had begun to pull. She leaned back slightly, her body aching for a break, when suddenly her phone vibrated beside the laptop. She glanced at the screen.

Human Doll.

Her lips curved gently. She picked up the call.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice lower than usual from exhaustion.

“I wanted to tell you something before someone else does,” came his voice—smooth, calm, but with that slightly careful tone that made her sit straighter.

“I’m going for a business trip,” he said. “It might be a month. International clients… they want in-person meetings. Presentations. Contracts. I can’t delay it anymore.”

Lilith was quiet for a moment, processing.

A whole month.

She knew he was busy. She knew he had responsibilities. He wasn’t someone who could disappear without the world noticing. But still… hearing it made her chest feel strangely hollow, like something she’d been trying not to miss had just been pulled further away.

“Oh,” she said simply, not letting the ache touch her voice.

“I didn’t want to leave without telling you,” he added. “I’ll call. Message. And I’ll make it quick.”

She smiled faintly, even though he couldn’t see it.

“I’ll be fine. Do your work,” she replied, tucking her knees closer to her chest on the chair.

“I know,” he said. “Still… I’ll miss you.”

She didn’t answer that.

But after the call ended, she sat there quietly for a long time, staring at her screen.

She had so much to do. So many dreams to build.

But the world still felt a little lonelier when he wasn’t near.

***

Two days later…

Lilith stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of her blazer with slow, precise fingers. Her proposal was finally complete—refined, proofread, and polished to perfection. She had barely slept the past two nights, pouring over every detail, every slide, every word. And now… the time had come. She was dressed in perfectly fitted professional attire, a crisp white shirt beneath a sleek black blazer, paired with tailored pants. Her hair was tied into a neat bun, not a single strand out of place. Her makeup was subtle but enhancing, soft tones that made her blue eyes look sharper, more intelligent. She looked calm. Gorgeous. Unshakable.

But inside her chest, her heart beat with quiet urgency.

She picked up her folder, checked the tablet in her bag one last time, and stepped out of her house. The ride to the meeting location was short—a quiet upscale café often used for business discussions. The investor had replied to her email late at night, simply stating he was willing to hear her out in person. No extra words. No compliments. Just direct and professional.

Lilith liked that.

She walked into the café, the door chiming softly as she entered. Her heels clicked gently on the wooden floor. The manager gave her a polite nod and gestured toward a private section near the glass wall, where a man sat with a cup of black coffee and a tablet open before him.

He looked up the moment she approached.

And for a second, she saw surprise flicker across his eyes.

Lilith smiled politely and extended her hand.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet.”

He shook her hand firmly. “Let’s see what you’ve built.”

She took her seat.

And opened her proposal.

“Project ESE,” Lilith said, her voice clear and calm, her smile poised with quiet confidence. “Emotion Simulator Entertainment.” She sat with one leg gracefully crossed over the other, her back straight, her movements fluid—effortless. Her presence didn’t demand the room; it owned it. The man across from her blinked, straightening up slightly as he watched her speak. Something about her—the way her eyes held clarity, the way her voice held no doubt—made him instinctively lean forward.

Lilith continued, her tone polished but not rehearsed. “It’s a personalized film and game experience that reacts in real time to the audience’s emotional responses,” she explained. “Using wearable tech—smart rings, biometric VR headsets, or even emotion-sensing AI camera modules—our system reads physical cues: heart rate, eye movement, skin temperature, even micro-expressions.”

She tapped the screen gently, and the next slide showed a visual mockup—two players in a VR environment, watching a horror film that changed endings depending on whether they laughed, cried, or flinched.

“The story adapts depending on how the viewer feels. If they’re nervous, it slows down. If they’re bored, it speeds up. If they cry too soon, the narrative shifts to recovery. If they’re immersed, it deepens. It’s not just content anymore—it’s connection.”

The man’s eyes slowly widened as he stared at the visuals, then back at the proposal in front of him. It wasn’t just a smart idea.

It was the future of storytelling.

His fingers skimmed quickly across the slides. The market stats. The monetization model. The projected engagement. Each point was bold but grounded. She had done her research. She knew her field. And most of all she wasn’t guessing.