The morning sun barely touched the hotel window, but the presidential suite where Liam Albright was staying was already overflowing with the refined aroma of imported coffee, artisanal croissants, and hints of strawberries macerated in champagne.
Liam's pajama top was open, exposing his toned abs as he lazily ate a slice of toast slathered in golden jam. With his phone at his side and a leather briefcase in front of him, his bored gaze flicked over the day's news projected onto a hologram hovering above the table.
"More financial scandals in the Arid Confederation..." he muttered, shaking his head. "A bunch of amateurs masquerading as ministers."
In front of him, sitting upright with a tablet in his hand and a nervous look on his face, was his personal assistant, Edgar, a young blond man with thick glasses and a crooked tie, always looking two seconds into a stress crisis.
"Mr. Albright, some important updates on the contacts made after yesterday's gala," Edgar began, sliding his fingers across the tablet.
"Hmm. Tell me."
"Several influential nobles have contacted the Argall District. Some are interested in business partnerships, others in joint projects. The visibility of the event definitely had an effect. Especially because of the photo your team posted last night…"
Liam raised an eyebrow and gave a smug smile. "The picture with Victoria?"
"Yes, sir. The two of you entering the gala together. The image went viral on social media. It's among the top five most talked-about topics in the Americas. And, well, it had a direct impact on the company's shares—they rose 17.3% overnight."
Liam crossed his legs with affected elegance, holding his coffee cup like a trained aristocrat. "A power couple always works. We're both photogenic, even if she's stubborn as an Oxford-educated mule."
Edgar hesitated, which caught Liam's attention.
"Spit it out, Edgar. Don't look at me like you're about to tell me I lost millions."
"You didn't lose… but" Edgar cleared his throat, looking at the tablet cautiously "many of the proposals directly mention Miss Lancaster's name. Some require the approval or participation of House Lancaster in the agreements. Others mention the future commitment of union between the two families as a factor of trust and stability."
The sound of her name hit Liam like a nail in the leather of the chair.
He slowly placed the cup on the table, his eyes darkening.
"Victória... always the sweet illusion of perfection," he said, almost in a venomous whisper. "Little does she know that she has secured more contracts with my last name than with any diplomatic speech."
"Sir?" Edgar tilted his face.
Liam ignored it. His eyes now scanned one of the holographic windows with photos of the gala hall.
One showed Victoria smiling next to Kael, the prince of Cryon, in a... too intimate pose.
His jaw clenched.
"That bitch," he muttered.
Before Edgar could ask, a soft feminine cough, followed by a lazy giggle, echoed from the adjacent room.
"Honeyyyyy..." came the lascivious, drawn-out voice, "You destroyed me last night. I got weak in the knees just getting out of bed..."
A woman, visibly naked and wearing only Liam's unbuttoned dress shirt, appeared in the doorway, her brown hair tangled and the visible marks of a restless night.
Edgar closed his eyes and stood up silently. "Excuse me, Mr. Albright."
"Go and send me the contracts for review later," Liam replied casually, ignoring the employee's discomfort.
Edgar left, and the woman walked over to Liam with catlike steps, sitting on his lap with practiced intimacy.
"Were you talking about business or... me?" she whispered, running her fingers over the back of his neck.
Liam didn't answer. His gaze was distant, fixed on the screen where Victoria smiled at another man as if he didn't exist.
As if Liam Albright were disposable.
He lightly squeezed the woman's waist in his lap, not out of affection, but out of frustration.
The woman smiled, thinking it was passion.
Liam, however, just muttered, "Let's see how long this game of hers will last..."
The wicked smile of the woman in his lap only seemed to fuel the sadistic emptiness that boiled inside Liam Albright.
With a calculated movement, he kissed her, a kiss without tenderness, only possession and dominance. A silent seal of inflated ego.
Soon after, a dry crack echoed through the suite.
"There!" The woman's eyes widened and she let out an embarrassed laugh as she felt the firm slap on her ass. "Bossy…"
Liam looked at her with sophisticated coldness, the artificial smile already gone from his lips.
"Get dressed. I've had enough of your morning company."
She stood up still laughing, as if she were coming out of a sensual game, but her laughter faded as soon as she saw Liam's eyes harden.
Without answering, she walked to the bedroom and closed the door.
Outside, assistant Edgar had already returned, tablet in hand, nervous as ever.
Liam snapped his fingers impatiently.
"Edgar, I want rumors spread on social media about the prince of Cryon, that pathetic bastard. Make it seem like they're coming from different sources. Imply diplomatic corruption, use something about experiments on protected animals in Cryon, even hint at sex scandals if necessary. If there's no dirt, make it up."
Edgar's eyes widened behind his thick lenses. "Sir... this could cause..."
"Edgar," Liam leaned forward, his eyes cold and his tone a razor in the silence, "I'm not asking for your opinion. I'm giving you an order. And if you don't do it... I'll find someone who will."
Swallowing hard, Edgar just nodded.
"Perfectly, sir."
Liam leaned back, this time with a triumphant look. "I want Kael destroyed in the international court before Victoria opens her eyes and thinks that little snowflake is more trustworthy than the most powerful Albright of the century."
A few minutes later, the woman returned from the bedroom, now dressed in a short, tight dress, with high heels and a designer bag, standard for all of Liam's "occasional visits."
She fixed her hair and smiled, still believing she was coming out on top. "Are you going to call me again, dear?"
"Maybe," Liam said emotionlessly, his back to her.
Edgar promptly approached, offering his arm and leading her to the door.
When they reached the elevator, before the doors opened, Edgar reached out and discreetly handed the woman a black metal card.
She held it up, curious. "Is this…?"
"An exclusive card. Encrypted. There's $10 million in there. Considered... a thank you. But remember, don't talk about Mr. Albright. To anyone."
The woman gave a slow, greedy smile. "Relax, dear. I can be discreet."
She entered the elevator with the automatic sway of someone who was satisfied, and disappeared through the doors with the tranquility of someone who had just won the lottery.
Edgar stood still for a moment, watching the polished metal reflect his own face.
He loosened his tie, letting out a heavy sigh.
"Again..." he murmured. "Ever since this guy turned 19, it's always the same story... luxury, blackmail, chaos, and women bought like stocks on the stock market."
He mechanically cleaned his glasses and returned to the suite, where Liam was already typing furiously on his tablet, perhaps plotting his next move, perhaps.
The next morning, the digital world woke up in flames.
In less than five hours, hashtags like #KaelCorrupto, #CryonOcultaSegredos, and even the absurd #PríncipeDoGeloComSangue Quente exploded in global trending topics.
Edited videos circulated with alarmist captions:
"PRINCE OF CRYON INVOLVED IN SCANDAL: WHAT IS HE HIDING?"
"Is Kael manipulating ecosystems in exchange for power? Scientists warn!"
"Leak reveals noble Kael's not-so-noble interests..."
Anonymous profiles popped up out of nowhere, with generic bios and suspicious followers, posting synchronized comments, always fueling doubt:
"It's funny that Kael should come just now, when Cryon needs new economic agreements. Coincidence? 🙄"
"Cryon hasn't accepted foreign companies for centuries. Why has it changed now?"
"The prince seems more interested in carnal alliances."
Public opinion, as expected, spontaneously combusted.
In forums specializing in international politics, anonymous diplomats discussed possible hidden motives.
On TikTok and X (formerly Twitter), conspiracy theories sprouted like mushrooms.
But amidst the chaos...
...an unbeatable army emerged.
They called themselves: "The Kaelzetes."
It was a group of women and some men too, let's be fair, who simply ignored all logical and geopolitical arguments to raise a single flag: Kael is hot.
And that was enough.
The hashtags started to change their tone.
#KaelMeuGeloMeuFogo
#LeaveCryonInMyBed
#PrinceDelicious
#CryonCanFreezeMe
Prints of Kael were cropped, edited, saturated, and placed in all kinds of settings: from montages of him holding babies to him riding a polar bear.
In the comments on the articles accusing the prince, the responses were a rollercoaster of emotional defensiveness and pure thirst:
"Are you telling me this man is dangerous? What's dangerous is me seeing him in a blazer and still standing."
"They can accuse Kael of anything, but if he wants to manipulate me... I'm here, manipulated."
"Sorry, but if that's a crime, I want to be an accomplice and sleep in the same cell."
Amidst the barrage of misinformation planted by Liam, one thing became clear: Kael might even be under political attack.
But in the networks, he had what no algorithm could contain:
Diplomatic sex appeal.