Hah! No.

Nova was staring at the folder, her mind in a conflicting turmoil that wracked stress-shivers through her body.

To read it, or not to read it?

That's her question.

"Shakespeare? Really?" Max asked, hearing her mumble. "Just read the damn folder and THEN decide."

"But, what if-?"

"You won't know until you read it," Max said, getting up from the kitchen stool. He patted her shoulder as he walked by. "You've been staring at it all night and now it's 9am. I'm surprised, actually. Thought you might either throw it away immediately or read it right away. My bet was on the first one. You know, given that he is, like, your mortal nemesis and stuff. I also-"

Nova glared at him.

"Not helping," Max said, nodding. "Got it. Imma go pay the bills we're overdue on with that fancy money from last night. Holler if ya need me."

Max left the room and entered the living room. He was still wearing pajamas. He had medium length chocolate brown hair that brushed the tips of his shoulders. It was shaggy and kind of curly, but thick and fine. He had hazel eyes framed by dark eyelashes.

Both Max and Nova were blessed with a high metabolism, and both frequently visited the gym.

Max was very proud of his six-pack.

And he was not just blessed with good genetics and a high metabolism, but also an IQ of 152. Even though he was an airhead at times, he was truly very smart and a whiz when it came to computers.

Max, like Nova, was an orphan. They met in All Lives Orphanage and scattered when the fire started by Lion's group caught. They had been best friends since they were young.

Max shook his head to clear his thoughts and started on the bills. Water, electricity, etc.

Meanwhile, Nova was still sitting in the kitchen with a mug of tea in her hands as she stared at the folder on the counter. Max had found her about two hours ago and made her some tea.

Could she trust him? Lion, King of the Underworld? Of course not, but could she trust that he actually needed her help? Why would she help her nemesis?— No, why would her nemesis ask for her help? He has more resources, money, people, etc.

Things didn't add up.

Did she have a special skill set?

No, that couldn't possible. He could always have someone do whatever he needed from them. Including learning something new.

Was he trying to get close to her? To kill her? Imprison her?

Nova gasped. "Is he trying to frame me for something?"

"Did you read it?" Max yelled.

"No…" she yelled, getting quieter as she prolonged the word.

"READ IT!"

"FINE!"

Nova angrily set down her mug and grabbed the folder.

She roughly opened the folder and what she saw was… honestly not what she was expecting…

"Hah…" she gave a flat laugh. "No."

•|•

Meanwhile, Casimiro sat in his office staring at his computer.

There's no way she didn't read the folder yet, right?

He narrowed his eyes slightly.

She didn't… throw it away… did she?

He sighed.

Of course, she has no reason to trust him whatsoever.

A knock sounded on the door and shortly after Micah walked in carrying a stack of papers.

"The first half are from Waltzing Plaza, the renovations for the building, and a few documents that need to be signed concerning the property. Oh, and there's four that need your signature to start building in Australia, Europe, Hong Kong, and Tokyo." Micah set down the papers on Casimiro's desk before finding the red divider. "Okay," he sighed. "The other half are from your grandfather. Most of them are concerning his will, but the others are about how you can only get the inheritance if you marry. The package will stay in his vault until-"

Casimiro held up his hand.

Micah nodded and left the room.

Casimiro's eyes shifted from the computer to the stack of papers for him to sign. He pulled the stack to him and just as he was about to start on them, a notification made a *ping* sound from his computer.

The banner notification was saying he had gotten an anonymous email on his private account.

His Underworld account.

He clicked on it.

The entire message read:

//

You're funny. You think I'd actually agree to this? You ask me to help you with some sort of thief-person because I'm the 'person for the job'?

Bullshit.

And in exchange, you— what? Stop trying to kill me?

More bullshit.

Actually, it says, and I quote, 'in exchange, Party B will be granted a full pardon from their past years of trying to kill Party A. Party B will also receive the word of Party A that Party A will no longer be letting the actions of members of Party A's organization to cause nefarious deeds or crimes.'

HAH!

HAHAHAHA!

BULL.

SHIT.

Don't contact me. Don't reply. I want nothing to do with you except put you six-feet underground.

Bye-bye.

//

Casimiro chuckled. "Oh, Star… how naïve."