From American Internet Celebrity to God Among Men

105: Chapter 105 The Crest of the Wave: Wealth, Resonance, and New HorizonsOn the day the settlement from Northrop arrived, the bank sent a senior vice president to provide personal service. The middle-aged man, with his hair combed meticulously, checked the final document and authorized the transfer. He then said to Alex in a tone mixed with awe and caution: ”Mr. Su, the scale of your liquid assets has now reached the threshold for our bank’s highest level of private wealth management. We possess the world’s top...”

”Not at the moment, thank you.” Alex interrupted him gently but firmly. After signing the papers and returning the pen, he said, ”I will contact the relationship manager if I need anything. Now, could you please leave me alone with my friend? We have matters to discuss.”

The vice president immediately put away his sales pitch, nodded with a professional smile, and quickly and quietly exited the temporary villa living room that Alex had just rented, which was perched on the cliffs of Malibu with floor-to-ceiling windows. The door clicked shut.

Only Alex and Taylor remained in the living room. The sea breeze blew in through the slightly opened window, carrying a salty, damp scent and the white noise of the distant waves. The figure of the settlement was indeed staggering, enough for an ordinary person to squander for several lifetimes, but for Alex at this moment, its most important significance was the unprecedented sense of security and freedom it brought. He no longer had to worry about the budget of any project and could pay purely for creativity and ambition.

Taylor curled up barefoot on the huge white sofa, holding a cup of hot tea in her hands, watching Alex dismiss the banker with a smile playing on her lips. ”It seems the first test of ’huge wealth’ is the various people who want to help you ’manage’ it.”

”The first test?” Alex walked over, sat down on the carpet naturally, leaning his back against the sofa, and looked up at her. This posture put him at a slightly upward angle, but the relaxation and intimacy in his eyes eliminated any sense of distance. ”I think the first test is how to remember how to use a microwave to heat up a frozen pizza after having it.”

Taylor gently kicked his shoulder with her toes, her smile deepening. ”You already passed that test, Mr. Kitchen Killer.” She paused, her voice softening, ”Seriously, this money... how do you plan to use it?”

”A portion has already been allocated to the ’Lighthouse Project’ of the Voice of Truth and the victims’ trust fund. As for the rest,” Alex reached out and took her hand hanging off the sofa, his fingertips warm, ”I want to buy a real house. Not a rental, but a home. One with a soundproof piano room, a terrace overlooking the sea, a kitchen large enough for me to continue challenging my cooking disasters, and a guest suite for Hank and the others to stay over occasionally.”

Taylor’s fingers moved slightly in his palm. ”That sounds... very specific.”

”Because the invitation is specific.” Alex turned around, resting his arm on the sofa, looking calmly into her deep blue eyes. ”Would you be willing... to look at houses with me? Or, to see what kind of space ’we’ might need?”

The air was quiet for a few seconds, with only the rise and fall of the waves. Taylor did not pull her hand away, nor did she look away. Their relationship, having gone through the tension of the live broadcast, the collaboration of creation, the glory of the awards ceremony, and the mutual support backstage, had long transcended that of work partners or ambiguous acquaintances. It was a connection based on deep understanding, soul resonance, and absolute trust, growing naturally in places the spotlight couldn’t reach. Some things had long since fallen into place.

She leaned down, her blonde hair falling like a waterfall, blocking some of the light from the window and forming a private, intimate space. Her kiss landed, gentle and firm, carrying the faint fragrance of tea and her unique scent. Alex responded to her, his palm cupping the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. There was no urgency, only confirmation and belonging.

After a long while, Taylor pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against his, her breathing slightly short, with starlight seemingly rippling in her eyes. ”Looking at houses is fine,” she whispered, with a rare touch of playfulness, ”but the piano room must be under my jurisdiction; that is my bottom line.”