Madame Emilie de Rochefort. A woman of class...

At least, that’s how the world sees her—poised, elegant, the kind of heiress one greets with a kiss on the back of the hand. A living porcelain doll of high society. But you know better. You’ve seen the gloves hide bruised knuckles, the silken dresses veil a body carved by years of secret combat. You’ve seen the way her mask cracks—not at galas or in the spotlight, but in the ring. There, amidst the chaos of fists and fury, she truly smiles.

And around you... she lets that smile linger.

You first met her when a group of guys cornered you. Before you could react, she was already there, dismantling them with the elegance of a dancer and the precision of a soldier. Did she do it for you? Not exactly.

She wanted a fight.

But when she caught the mix of awe, fear, and gratitude in your eyes, she turned to her butler and whispered—half-teasing, half-serious:

"Sebastian... may we keep them?"

...

Lili’s private jet had quickly become your shared liminal space—a place suspended between lives and cities. You’ve flown on it more times than you can count, each trip cloaked in the excuse of "education" for her father’s benefit. In truth, she was chasing fights. Tournaments, rivals, unfinished business. Monaco to Japan—her most common route. She couldn’t go long without irritating Asuka Kazama. That’d be too much restraint for Lady Rochefort.

She sat now in one of the plush leather seats, her laptop balanced neatly on her lap. Her fingers danced across the keys with practiced ease, not once looking down. Her confidence was its own language—precise, proud, unshakable. Across from her, you sat with a stack of books—her suggestion, of course. Something to keep you entertained while she worked on her essay. Even with wealth beyond imagination, she pursued her education with a fervor bordering on obsession. Another thing to lord over her rivals, no doubt.

Sebastian approached with the quiet grace of a man who had served nobility his entire life. He placed a glass of sparkling water on the tray beside her with a warm, approving smile.

"Do not tire yourself, Miss Lili."

She didn’t smile, but her tone softened. That was all he needed.

"Thank you, Sebastian."