Five bait bombs, coated with different colors of honey, landed precisely in his path.
The first four were:
The youthful sports sweetheart—Catherine,
The forbidden, alluring Asian overachiever—Miyu Kobayashi,
The stunning ebony beauty with a wild charm—Samantha,
The explosive figure that challenged the laws of physics—Abby.
Each type pointed directly to his distinct "preferences."
This lineup was like a precisely delivered intelligence version of "Campus Beauties 101."
He maneuvered among them with ease.
Returning Catherine's admiration with warm humor,
Offering sharp insights on academic discussions with Miyu,
Responding to Samantha's enthusiasm with equal vigor,
Gently agreeing to help Abby with her "appeal" and putting in earnest effort.
Hawk enjoyed this carefully prepared "feast," welcoming all and keeping his true thoughts hidden.
As long as they weren't sick...
Especially the last one—Vivian, the professor of actuarial science!
This person was certainly not a nobody; as for evidence?
Her appearance spoke for itself!
Even if she wasn't a beloved beauty of the sea, she had to be some important character regardless.
He discreetly noted her name, intending to investigate her later.
In the afternoon, under perfect sunlight.
Hawk knocked on the door of Professor Amelia's office.
Unlike Professor Finch's serious demeanor, Professor Amelia's office was bright and spacious, filled with vibrant greenery, and the faint aroma of baked pastries wafted through the air.
"Ah, our 'Financial Storm Eye' has arrived?" Professor Amelia set down her delicate bone china teacup, dressed in a tailored cream-colored suit, her face alight with a smile. "How did Finch's 'moral judgment' go this morning? Did he nail you to the cross?"
Hawk plopped down on the sofa opposite her and grabbed a sweet cookie she pushed towards him. "You're into gossip too, Professor? Finch might be having a bit of indigestion."
Amelia chuckled lightly, exuding the charm of a mature woman. "Indigestion? He's been choked by your approach. But I like your sharpness; Finch's questions are so… filled with the naive pretentiousness of scholars."
She averted her gaze from Hawk, her long fingers unconsciously wrapping around the deep blue ribbon tied around the neck of the Port wine bottle.
The ribbon twisted and untwisted between her fair fingers, like a restless snake.
Hawk didn't respond, instead, he walked over to the desk, picked up an empty glass, and poured himself some bourbon.
"The capital market," Amelia finally turned her face after a moment, the light catching her deep brown eyes, which blended wisdom with a trace of indescribable madness. "Its rules are never inscribed in the moral scriptures on parchment, but engraved on the blades of victors, Hawk."
"Some people, like you," her voice lowered, carrying a rough texture, "innately understand how to make… capital flow more violently and indiscriminately."
Amelia stood up, the tips of her high heels quietly gliding over the carpet, then slowly sliding up the perfectly tailored leg of Hawk's trousers.
The subtle sensation of friction clearly transmitted through the fine wool.
Hawk slowly turned around to see the flicker of interest and inquiry in Amelia's eyes.
"To be honest, Hawk, you've feasted wonderfully on that juicy piece of Bates. But the old foxes on Wall Street are all guessing who will be the next delicacy to whet your appetite?"
Hawk leisurely grabbed a cookie, meeting her intense gaze. "Delicacy?"
He smirked slightly, bearing a hint of cynicism. "Professor, you know the capital game better than I do. Also… about the CEO position at Lane Capital I mentioned to you before, that's much more thrilling than being a college professor."
Hawk needed a financial expert to run Lane Capital, someone not only experienced but also bold and reckless, a financial madman who would stop at nothing.
Amelia was the perfect candidate in his eyes.
Andy, while a business genius, excelled in being well-rounded, stable, and lacking in weaknesses. Over the past two years, under his leadership, Lane Group had become unshakeable.
But if she needed to dominate the financial market, that would be a bit challenging for her; she was far better at business, operations, management, finance, and risk control.
Upon hearing Hawk's renewed invitation, a spark flashed in Amelia's eyes, her high heel pressing against Hawk's thigh as her body leaned in closer.
"Hawk Lane, after the fall of Bates Capital, Wall Street has been saying you are cold and precise, like a machine." Her red lips parted, warm breath brushing against his ear, laced with the rich sweetness of Port wine. "Tell me, where is your next move going to be played?"
Hawk gazed at her face, a weave of wisdom and charm, so close yet so far, and spread his hands helplessly. "Professor, I don't have a target at the moment; my approach towards Bates Capital is truly due to personal grievances…"
But suddenly his voice lowered: "But it's not absolute; we could… exchange some ideas in depth, Professor?"
Amelia looked at his face.
The strange flame in her eyes suddenly blazed fiercely, like being thrown onto dry firewood.
She lunged forward, her body colliding into Hawk's embrace with a decisive force, gripping the front of his expensive shirt tightly.
"Don't call me professor!" she nearly growled, breath hot against his jaw, mixed with the uniquely rich fragrance of Port wine. "In front of you, I'm not that damned professor!"
She tipped up onto her toes, harshly pressing against the bulge of Hawk's Adam's apple, her canine teeth leaving a slight but clear sting.
"Tell me!" Her voice shattered and trembled due to the intensity of the action and some suppressed madness as her body pressed tightly against his through the thin fabric. "Bates was just an appetizer, right? Tell me, Hawk Lane… who do you plan to devour next?"
Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting dappled light and shadow between the two of them.