NOVEL NEXT Chapter 82: To Melody
"Where are you going?"
The question came from a sultry voice behind him, tinged with curiosity and just a hint of annoyance. Nolan turned slightly to glance at the speaker—Rachel—her blonde hair cascading loosely across the pillow as she propped herself up on one elbow. The silk sheet barely covered her chest, teasing enough to make most men forget their name.
But Nolan wasn't like most men.
He stood near the edge of the room, meticulously buttoning up his crisp black shirt, his movements unhurried and deliberate. His golden hair gleamed under the cool night light streaming through the massive glass windows, each strand perfectly in place as if the moon itself was admiring him.
"There's someone I want to meet," Nolan said coolly, his voice deep and smooth as aged wine.
He strode toward the floor-to-ceiling mirror mounted on the wall, the polished glass reflecting his perfectly sculpted face. His sharp jawline, clear golden eyes, and confident smirk stared back at him like a man born to rule hearts. He raised a hand, brushing his fingers lightly through his golden hair, ensuring every lock fell exactly where it should.
"You're as handsome as ever, Nolan," Rachel purred from behind, her voice dripping with longing. The sheet that clung to her body slid further down, revealing the smooth expanse of her bare chest.
"I know," Nolan replied with a lazy grin, not even pretending to be humble. "You don't have to tell me that."
Turning from the mirror, he walked back to the bed, where five breathtaking women lay entangled in silk sheets like fallen goddesses after a night of sin. Rachel sat among them like a queen, her blue eyes glittering mischievously. With a teasing smile, Nolan grabbed the edge of the blanket and yanked it away in one smooth motion, letting it pool onto the floor.
The sight before him made his lips curl in satisfaction. Their flawless skin glowed in the morning light, every curve accentuated by the tangled sheets beneath them. He licked his lips slowly, savoring the view.
These were the same women who had once hired him as a guide for their Awakening Dungeon run. Back then, all they wanted was someone capable, someone to lead them to victory. But then they saw him—the perfect mix of power and charm. And just like that, they couldn't let him go.
Totally understandable, Nolan thought smugly. Who could resist perfection?
"We've had enough rest," Rachel murmured, reaching out to tug on his shirt collar. Her hot breath ghosted over his neck as she whispered, "Let's have some fun."
Nolan felt her lips brush his skin, and his pulse quickened despite himself. Her warmth, her scent, the way her body pressed against his… For a moment, the idea of leaving seemed foolish.
"Sh*t," he muttered under his breath, grinning bitterly as he felt the growing heat in his body. "You're making this very hard for me."
"Then stay," Rachel whispered, her voice sultry as molten honey.
Tempting. So tempting. But…
Nolan stepped back abruptly, forcing distance between them even as every nerve in his body screamed at him to give in. "I can't. I have to go."
Rachel's brows knitted in frustration, her pout deepening into a glare. "You're going to meet another girl, aren't you?"
Nolan laughed softly, not bothering to answer as he adjusted his cuffs with deliberate calm.
"That silence says it all," Rachel sighed dramatically, throwing her arms in the air before letting them flop onto the sheets. "Are you still not satisfied with the five of us? Really, Nolan?"
Satisfied? Nolan nearly snorted at the word. Five women? Five? That wasn't satisfaction—that was restraint.
Without a word, he turned and strode toward the door, his polished shoes clicking against the marble floor. His hand paused on the doorknob for a fleeting second, his reflection winking at him on the glossy surface.
Rachel was right, of course. He was going to meet another woman.
And as for being satisfied with only five?
Nolan smirked as he stepped out of the penthouse, his mind already drifting to the next conquest.
Five women will never be enough.
He was Nolan—handsome, desirable, unstoppable. Why limit himself? To do so would be nothing short of an insult to perfection.
Nolan took the elevator all the way down to the grand hotel lobby, the soft hum of classical music greeting him as the doors slid open. The lobby's golden chandeliers sparkled above polished marble floors, casting warm light over the guests lingering around.
The hotel staff noticed him immediately. Their smiles lit up like fireworks, their posture straightening as if the presence of Nolan demanded perfection. Several young women at the reception counter exchanged subtle glances before one of them dared to wink at him.
Already accustomed to this kind of attention, Nolan responded with a faint, polite smile. His striking features and commanding aura weren't something he could turn off. It was as if his existence naturally drew people in, bending the atmosphere to his will without effort.
He walked out through the revolving glass doors, his long coat brushing lightly against the pristine floor, and stepped into the cool embrace of the night. Outside, a sleek black limousine waited for him, its metallic surface glimmering under the silver glow of the moon. The rear door was already open, and beside it stood his butler, bowing with practiced elegance.
"Master Nolan," the butler greeted with a deep nod, his voice calm and respectful.
Without a word, Nolan entered the limo and settled into the leather seat. The moment the door shut behind him, the world outside seemed to vanish, replaced by the comforting quiet of luxury. The faint scent of aged whiskey and cedarwood lingered inside, matching the refinement Nolan carried effortlessly.
The moon hung high above the cityscape like a solemn guardian, casting its pale light over towering skyscrapers and the sleeping streets below. Yet even in that stillness, Nolan's presence felt like a contradiction—a radiant force that seemed to defy the darkness itself. Wherever he went, his charm clung to the air, an invisible gravity pulling eyes toward him.
He leaned back, resting his head against the seat, as the limousine began to glide smoothly along the road.
The butler's voice crackled through the intercom. "Where to, Master Nolan?"
Nolan's gaze shifted lazily toward the tinted window, watching neon lights flicker past. "Melody's concert," he said with a sigh. "She's probably done by now."
The butler did not question him, but Nolan's tone carried a quiet weight. He had known about the concert all evening; the news was everywhere. Melody's growing fame as a performer was undeniable. People were already calling her a rising star. He, however, had never been fond of concerts or the deafening chaos of crowds. Music wasn't his passion—he preferred silence, where thoughts were sharp and distractions scarce.
Still, something compelled him to be there. Perhaps it was curiosity, or perhaps it was that same faint pull he had felt before, an invisible thread tying their paths together. Whatever the reason, Nolan intended to arrive after the noise faded, when the lights dimmed and the sea of strangers dispersed.
"Understood, sir," the butler replied smoothly, and the conversation ended there.
Minutes later, the limousine curved into a private road leading toward the central park, where the open-air concert had been held. Even from a distance, Nolan could sense the lingering energy in the air—the residue of excitement and cheers. Bright stage lights were already dimming, and the steady hum of a dispersing crowd echoed faintly through the night.
As they approached the designated VIP parking area, the sight became clearer. Dozens of fans were trickling away, some clutching glowsticks and posters, others chatting animatedly about the performance they had just witnessed. The grass bore signs of a night-long celebration—confetti scattered like fallen petals, and the distant sound of workers dismantling the stage could be heard.
The limousine rolled to a gentle stop. The butler stepped out first, opening the door for Nolan with the same measured grace as before. Nolan emerged into the cool night air, the faint murmur of voices brushing against his ears like whispers in the wind.
Without delay, the butler led him past the fading lights and into a restricted pathway shielded from the public eye. Security personnel recognized them instantly, offering quick bows and parting the way without question. Nolan's reputation had that effect—doors opened without hesitation, barriers melted into nothing.
The path ended at a sleek, modern building nestled behind the park—a private lounge reserved for performers and high-profile guests. Its walls shimmered faintly under the moonlight, and through the glass panels, faint movements could be seen—assistants cleaning up, a few figures chatting quietly inside.
Melody… a rising star who had just arrived in Voulton for a quick concert. Despite being a newcomer, she had already captured the hearts of countless fans, her name spreading like wildfire.
When Nolan learned she was coming, he wasted no time digging up everything about her. The moment he saw her photo, his decision was made—he had to have this woman, no matter the cost.
Who could possibly refuse someone like me? Nolan thought, suppressing the surge of excitement building inside him as he made his way toward the lounge where Melody was staying.
If not for the presence of others, he would have sprinted straight through the door and thrown himself at her without hesitation.
But appearances mattered. For now, he had to play the part—smile at these insignificant people, these nobodies, while his mind burned with a single thought: She's mine.