Harem Investment System: Getting Money And Women - Chapter 94

Chapter 94: Adrian Sinclair Chapter 94: Adrian Sinclair He shook his head, pushing the thought aside.

He had more important things to do.

Reaching over, he grabbed his laptop and flipped it open, fingers typing quickly as he accessed the backend of the ATLAS website.  Zack had handled most of the design, but Ethan still had to oversee operations.

And right now?

He needed to manage the reservations.

He opened the dashboard, took a sip of his now-cold coffee, and nearly spit it out when he saw the number.

[9,872 reservations.] Ethan blinked.

Then he refreshed the page.

[10,013 reservations.] “…You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He rubbed his face with both hands.

He hadn’t even officially launched the resort yet.  No press release, no grand announcement – just some marketing, a few videos, and boom – ten thousand people were already throwing their money at ATLAS.

Zack was gonna lose his mind when he saw this.

Ethan exhaled, cracking his knuckles before getting to work.  He had to sort out the reservations, assign rooms, and send out virtual tickets to everyone’s emails.  It was a nightmare of logistics, but at least it meant they were making money.

As he worked through the system, he saw the names of the people who booked.  A few caught his attention: [John W.

– VIP Suite, 5 nights] [Sophia R.

– Deluxe Room, 3 nights] [Anonymous – Penthouse Suite, 2 weeks] Ethan frowned.

Anonymous?

Clicking on it, he saw that whoever booked the Penthouse Suite for two weeks had paid in full, left no contact details, and only had a single email for confirmation.

Suspicious.

“I swear, if some billionaire weirdo is planning to do some secret villain shit in my resort – ” he muttered, shaking his head.

Regardless, money was money.  He kept going, assigning virtual tickets and emailing them out.

Midway through, his phone buzzed again.

He picked it up, expecting Zack.  Instead, it was a random unknown number.

Frowning, he answered.

“Hello?” A smooth, confident voice replied.

“Mr.

Grey.

This is Adrian Sinclair.” Ethan blinked.

“Uh… do I know you?” A chuckle.

“Not yet.

But you will.

I just booked your Penthouse Suite.

I trust you’ll take good care of me?” Ethan’s eyes widened slightly.

Oh, hell no.

Who the hell was this guy?

Ethan leaned back in his chair, exhaling sharply as he stared at his phone.  Adrian Sinclair.  The name alone had a weight to it, like the guy was some kind of secret mafia boss or a billionaire CEO who wore turtlenecks unironically.

He pieced it together almost instantly.  Adrian had to be Melissa’s brother.

The matching last names, the way he’d gotten Ethan’s number out of nowhere, and the fact that he called with the confidence of a man who expected to be listened to.  Yeah, there was no way this was some random guy looking for reservations.

Ethan cleared his throat.

“So… you’re Melissa’s brother?” Adrian chuckled.

“You’re quick.” Ethan wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or if the guy was just testing him.

“And, uh… what can I do for you?” “I saw the video,” Adrian said simply.

“The one with my sister.

You two seem… close.” Ethan blinked.

Oh, great.

This is one of those calls.

“I mean, she was just doing a promo for the resort,” Ethan replied carefully.

“It’s not like – ” “I want to see it myself.” Ethan froze.

“Wait, what?” “The resort.

ATLAS.

I want to see if it lives up to the hype.” There was something in the guy’s tone – calm, but firm.  The kind of tone that told Ethan this wasn’t really a request.  Adrian was coming, whether Ethan liked it or not.

“Well, uh… sure,” Ethan said, scratching the back of his head.

“I mean, we’re not officially open yet, but – ” “I’ll be there soon.” Click.

Ethan stared at his phone, slightly baffled.  No goodbye, no see you soon, not even a thanks for taking the call, Ethan, really appreciate it!  Nope.  Just a classic, cold, business-like hang-up.

He exhaled, running a hand down his face.

“What is with rich people and their dramatics?” Shaking it off, he turned his attention back to his laptop.  He still had a massive problem in front of him – virtual tickets.

The reservations had already stacked up to an insane number, and he had to distribute these virtual tickets manually.  If he wasn’t careful, he’d wake up tomorrow with an inbox full of angry emails from people demanding their reservations be confirmed.

“Alright, let’s do this.” He rolled up his sleeves like he was about to engage in battle and got to work.

[Three Hours Later…] Ethan was slumped in his chair, his fingers aching from clicking, typing, and sorting through reservation requests.  He felt like he had personally stamped, folded, and hand-delivered every ticket.

“How do people do this for a living?” he muttered Ethan groaned and stretched his arms, feeling every single joint pop like he was some ancient relic that had been sitting in a museum for centuries.  His fingers ached from all the clicking and typing, his eyes burned from staring at the screen too long, and worst of all, he was starving.

He cracked his knuckles and leaned back in his chair, squinting at the laptop screen.  ‘Alright, let’s see the results.’ Hesitantly, he refreshed the reservations page.  The number of people waiting in line for virtual tickets flashed on the screen.

[98,724 pending requests.] Ethan slammed his laptop shut.

“Nope.

I’m out.” He stood up so fast his chair nearly toppled over.  There was no way he was dealing with that right now.  He needed food, maybe a nap, and possibly a therapist to process what he’d just been through.

Grabbing his phone, he wandered into the kitchen, muttering, “This is a tomorrow problem.

Future Ethan can deal with this mess.” He yanked open the fridge, staring blankly inside.  “This is why I’m going to die young,” he mumbled, grabbing a soda and shutting the fridge.

As he cracked it open and took a sip, his phone vibrated in his hand.  He glanced at the phone screen.

[Melissa: You’re welcome, by the way.] Ethan frowned, typing back.

[Ethan: …For what?] A second later, she replied.

[Melissa: For making your resort go viral, obviously.

Now everyone wants a ticket, including people who just want to see you.] Ethan groaned.  “Great.

I’m a tourist attraction now.” Before he could even type out a sarcastic response, another text popped up.

[Melissa: Oh, and Adrian’s coming soon.

Have fun with that.]