Chapter 95: No apron little performance

Tom drove fast to where he had told Stella to wait at, with a soft hum on his lips, quiet excitement and anxiety rolling off him in waves.

Few minutes later, he was there.

He could see Stella’s car was already there, the engine off with her driver waiting with the patience of someone used to simple instructions.

He parked by the other side and flanked his horn. It didn’t Stella a full minute to know he had arrived.

She stepped out with a small travel bag; she wore a dark sunglasses that covered almost half of her face, a light blue sleeveless short dress that managed to look both casual and expensive at the same time. Without wasting movement, she opened the Mercedes’ passenger door, put the bag on the back seat, and sat in front beside Tom. Behind them, her driver pulled away and left them to the road.

Tom glanced over as he shifted the car into gear. "Hello, gorgeous. Shall we?" he said in a cool voice.

Stella took off the sunglasses and let her eyes settle on him properly. A small smile touched her mouth as she held his gaze and replied; "I’m ready."

"Okay." He said with a soft smile and brought the engine to life again and the short trip began.

Heavy streets thinned into easier roads, then into longer stretches where the buildings no longer seemed to be together. Stella adjusted her seat, crossed one leg over the other, and leaned back with a soft breath that sounded like the first real release of the day.

"Is it a long drive?" she asked.

"Not really. Nothing rough, though." he replied.

He kept his attention on the road, then looked at her again when the light allowed. That was when he noticed the faint red mark near her hairline, just where the edge of the sunglasses had hidden it earlier.

"What happened there?" he asked.

Stella turned her head. "Where?"

"on your forehead. There’s a mark."

Her fingers went up at once and brushed the spot. A mild look of surprise crossed her face when she realized he had caught something that small. "Oh. That. I had a little accident around the house."

Tom’s voice softened. "Does it still hurt?"

"Uhn uhn..." She shook her head in response.

The question was simple, but it landed differently from correction. No lecture. No sigh. No remark about carelessness. Stella faced the window again, and something in her expression eased by a degree. Adrian would have made a comment. Tom had simply noticed, and the concern in his voice had not cost her any pride. She kept that observation to herself and let the rest of the drive pass in a quieter kind of comfort.

By the time they reached the villa, the noise of ordinary city life felt far enough away to matter. The property sat behind a private compound line, clean and secluded, with an enclosed courtyard and the discreet look of a place meant for people who preferred not to advertise their presence. Tom parked, stepped out, and took both his bag and hers before leading the way to the entrance.

As they approached the door, the System’s panel opened quietly in his vision.

```

[SYSTEM SUPPORT ACTIVE]

Vacation property prepared for mission completion window.

Support includes:

• Fully stocked refrigerator

• Pre-cleaned interior

• Two domestic staff on call for cleaning when required

```

The corner of Tom’s mouth tugged upward in a pleased smile. The house alone would have been enough. And now the readiness of it made the evening smoother than he had expected.

"Thanks." He mumbled under his breath.

Inside, the villa opened into light and space. Everywhere was clean floors. The furniture looked new and sophisticated as if they had been curated just for Stella’s presence because they seemed to match the ones in her home. The wide windows looked out into the private courtyard.

And nothing about the place felt abandoned or hastily arranged. Stella walked in a few steps ahead of him, her eyes moving from the sitting area to the open kitchen line with open approval.

"I’m impressed," she said. "You really outdid yourself."

"I’m glad you like it," Tom replied. "Come on. I’ll show you your room first."

He led her down the short hallway and opened the door to the brighter of the two main rooms. The bed was already made, the air faintly cool, a wide window letting in soft outside light. Stella stepped in, took in the space once, and nodded with the satisfaction of a woman whose standards had been met without her having to ask.

Tom set her bag near the bed. "This one’s yours. Mine is next door." He paused by the doorway. "What would you like me to prepare for you? I’ll cook."

Stella turned from the window, brows lifting. "You cook?"

"I do." he shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal

A spark of interest moved through her expression.

"Yet you said there isn’t any interesting thing about you?" She cocked her head.

"Well, what can I say? Cooking is a survival skill, at least for me." He said simply and Stella smiled then nodded in understanding.

"Creamy garlic pasta..." She said. Tom’s brows raised in surprise. He had been expecting something complicated or maybe serious or layered as her dresses.

"That’s all you want?" He asked.

"Yeah. Let’s see if you’re any good." she said with the mild challenge of someone curious whether he could actually deliver it. Tom read the unspoken words and nodded.

"Challenge accepted." He said and Stella let out a short laugh.

"Give me a few minutes to change," Tom said. "Bathroom connects through there if you need it."

"I’ll change too," Stella replied, already reaching for her bag.

Tom left her to settle in and went into the adjoining room. He set his backpack down, shrugged out of the espresso-brown suit jacket, and loosened the rest of the formal layers with a short breath of relief. He was still deciding what to put on when the System interrupted, shameless as ever.

```

[SIDE MISSION]

Strip into one of those filthy undergarments.

Cook dinner while staying sexually suggestive the entire time.

Move like the meal is not the only thing on the menu.

[REWARD]

500 System Points

$25,000

[PENALTY]

Weak erection for the entire night

```

Tom stared at the panel, then let out a low, disbelieving breath.

"You want me to cook like that?"

[Yes,] the System said, almost cheerfully. [Hip line visible. Body on offer. No modest little apron performance. If Host wants the night working at full strength, earn it. A soft cock would ruin the show, wouldn’t it?]

Tom dragged a hand down his face and looked at the backpack. The obscene undergarments were already packed because the System had pushed for them earlier. Now he understood why.

Somewhere on the other side of the wall, Stella was changing into whatever version of comfort and temptation she had brought with her. And if he wanted the night intact, he was going to have to walk into that kitchen dressed like the evening’s second course.

He gritted his teeth, opened the bag, and reached for the underwear.