When Hawk pushed open Professor Emilia's office door, Emilia had her back to him, bending over to search for something on the bottom shelf of a bookcase.
Her deep brown, form-fitting sheath dress perfectly outlined her mature, voluptuous curves; her bent waist and the rising arch formed a silent invitation in the still air.
"I thought you'd be earlier, Hawk." She didn't turn around, knowing it was Hawk who had entered, her voice carrying a lazy amusement.
"Just saw off two enthusiastic friends." Hawk locked the door behind him, the soft click particularly clear in the quiet room.
He walked to the large desk and casually leaned against it, his gaze sweeping over the complex mathematical model documents spread open—the draft of the dynamic game theory model he had proposed.
Emilia finally straightened up, holding a bottle of excellent vintage red wine and two stemmed glasses.
She turned around, her face bearing the unique expression of an intellectual, a mix of scrutiny and seduction.
"Lane Capital's offer is very attractive, Hawk. Far beyond the platform and… compensation Columbia can give me."
She placed the wine glasses on the desk and skillfully opened the bottle, the deep red liquid sliding into the glasses.
"Does the CEO position mean absolute decision-making power? Including over the Lane family patriarch and young master?"
"Absolute." Hawk took the wine glass she offered him, his fingertips lightly brushing her skin, causing a subtle electric current.
"Lane Capital needs a truly visionary, bold, and… a leader who knows how to find the optimal solution in complex rules. You are that optimal solution, Professor Emilia."
"Call me Emilia." She raised her glass, her eyes burning, "To a new venture? Or to… the in-depth discussion about to begin?"
She meaningfully glanced at the model diagram on the desk.
For the next hour or so, the atmosphere subtly oscillated between academic rigor and simmering passion.
The two huddled over the model diagram. Hawk analyzed the evolution of Nash equilibrium in dynamic markets, while Emilia pointed out potential pitfalls in the model's parameter settings with precise terminology.
Pens quickly sketched on paper, fingers occasionally touching, sometimes jointly pointing to key nodes.
The air was filled with the sparks of intellectual collision and the rich aroma of red wine.
The discussion gradually deepened, extending from the model itself to the operational details of Lane Capital and the hostile takeover strategies for several target companies. Emilia seemed to show undisguised interest in the term "hostile takeover."
Hawk promised sufficient equity and salary, while Emilia elegantly bargained, demanding to join the core decision-making circle and have an independent executive team.
"So, one last question," Emilia put down her wine glass, walked around the desk, and stood in front of Hawk, their proximity close enough to feel each other's breath.
Her slender fingers traced the buttons of Hawk's shirt, her eyes hazy, "Regarding the 'core variable' of this model—its dominator—can it maintain… hmm… absolute control in any game?"
Hawk's lips curved into a smile of complete control. He suddenly reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his embrace.
"That depends on whether this variable is willing to submit to domination." Before the words finished, he had already lowered his head to seal her lips.
Academic papers were swept onto the floor.
The model diagram fluttered in the chaos.
The red wine was knocked over in the intense movements, the deep red liquid, like the blood of desire, staining the expensive Persian rug in a messy sprawl.
In front of the bookshelves piled with economics texts,
At the edge of the cluttered desk,
On the wide office chair symbolizing knowledge and authority,
An intense game of "domination" and "submission" unfolded.
——————————————
In the evening, Hawk appeared in a private room of a highly stylish yet discreet club in Midtown Manhattan.
New York Mayor Elliot Duncan was already waiting there, a seasoned politician with a composed demeanor, a professional smile on his face, but eyes as sharp as a hawk's.
"Hawk, glad you could make it on time." Mayor Duncan rose and shook his hand, his grip firm.
"Your father was a regular at this club back in the day, a promising young man." His words carried an implication of the Lane family's wealth and influence.
"You flatter me, Uncle Duncan. My father often spoke of your resolve back then." Hawk smiled in response.
The main topic of discussion was the upcoming annual New York City Charity Gala.
Nominally for fundraising for the "City Youth Development Fund," it was in reality a stage for political and business elites to solidify relationships, display power, and exchange favors.
Hawk, representing the Lane family, was the mayor's primary invited sponsor.
"The preliminary proposal is here," Mayor Duncan's assistant handed over a document. "Lane Group, as a 'Diamond-level Sponsor,' will have a main table seat, opening remarks, exclusive naming rights… and final veto power over all event details. Correspondingly, the sponsorship amount we expect is this figure."
He quoted a figure that would make ordinary people gape.
Hawk glanced at the document but did not immediately respond to the amount, cleverly shifting the topic:
"The gala is large-scale; security and the guest list need to be absolutely foolproof. Especially since Brooklyn seems to be a bit restless lately?"
Mayor Duncan sighed, picked up his glass, a genuine worry surfacing on his face: "That's exactly the second thing I wanted to talk to you about, Hawk. Brooklyn's crime rate, especially in the lower districts, has skyrocketed in recent months. Drugs, violence, gang warfare… it's practically become a lawless zone!"
He lowered his voice, with official helplessness and a hint of anger: "You know? The 'King' who once made those thugs tremble has seemingly vanished into thin air lately! His silence has made the Hand and the Foot Clan scum think their chance has come; their drug labs have more than doubled in size! It's a blatant provocation! The police… sigh, with little effect."
The mayor only mentioned Brooklyn, not the even more troublesome Hell's Kitchen, as that area was already widely considered beyond redemption…