Chapter 23: Women of Dreamside and King B.

February 5, 9:00 PM. The Business District of Dreamside, the boardroom of Sogni Nudi.
Dana Lovell holds a meeting of the Sogni Nudi Board of Directors regarding the upcoming launch of Erodreamarts on February 28. Ayomide Alade, an advisor to Mayor Navari on social and migration policy, also attends.
“Okay, I’ve got the overall picture,” Dana says. She sits at the head of the long white table in the brightly lit, spacious boardroom on the 16th floor of the publishing house. Beyond the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, the night view of Dreamside’s Business District stretches out. Dana wears black trousers and black heels with a black office blazer that has a deep V-neck. No other clothing is visible underneath.
“Ms. Alade,” she addresses Ayomide. “So, what is the final number of media outlets and journalists allowed into Dreamside? You know as well as I do that Dreamside has been a gated town since its founding in 1995. No one here wants unnecessary scandals, a bunch of outsiders, or leaks of sensitive information to the outside world.”
Ayomide, in grey trousers, black shoes, and a grey closed office blazer, begins listing the names of media outlets.
“Dreamside has a long-standing policy of carefully controlling access to the community,” Ayomide says in a calm, measured tone. “We’ve approved six major media outlets for Erodreamarts. Reuters, BBC, Der Spiegel, New York Times, Le Monde, and The Guardian.” She pauses and glances at her tablet. “All of them have signed strict NDAs and agreed to abide by Dreamside’s privacy protocols. No paparazzi, no drones, no hidden cameras. Dreamside security escorts them at all times while inside the community.”
Dana leans back in her chair. “So… I hope none of the mansions and estates participating drop out before February 28.” She smirks. “Well, Cocoavilla and Château des Rêves are fine. Those are very party-heavy houses in our town. As for Cheryl Hill, we didn’t even have to persuade Ms. Bloomfield. Alondra, are you sure none of the other houses on the list drop out along the way?”
Alondra, wearing a white shirt and black pants, lists the remaining mansions and estates that take part in Erodreamarts, excluding the already mentioned Cocoavilla, Château des Rêves, and Cheryl Hill: Lodgeville by Alicia Lodge, Sexland by Eva Perez, Fizzyhouse by Camila de Arce Novoa, Yummyplace by Candy Yanay, Cheerful Horse by Mary De Chanel, Pepper Party Mansion by Alice Fatima Imani, and Petycradle by Susanne Thalia. She gives an explanation for each.
“Right,” Dana nods. “And Susanne Thalia? She’s onboard too?”
“Yes,” Ayomide answers smoothly. “Petycradle participates. Susanne sees this as an opportunity to showcase her workspace and lifestyle, especially given her background in screenwriting. She’s particularly interested in highlighting the creative process behind her Netflix and HBO projects.”
Dana’s smirk widens. “Perfect. Susanne’s a fascinating character. I wouldn’t mind seeing more of her workspace. All of these mansions and estates have such different energies.”
“Indeed,” Ayomide agrees. “Each house reflects the owner’s personality and lifestyle choices. Some are more…”
“Some are more… what?” Dana presses. She leans forward with interest.
“Socially oriented,” Ayomide continues, her tone carefully measured. “More inclined to host parties and gatherings. Like Cocoavilla or Château des Rêves.”
“Or my house,” Dana adds with a wink.
“Of course.” Ayomide smiles. “Then there are the more private residences. Those that prioritize work or personal space over constant entertainment.”
“Like Susanne’s Petycradle,” Dana says, glancing at the tablet Ayomide holds. “Which means she’s letting us in for a reason.”
“I believe so,” Ayomide confirms. “She’s quite proud of her creative process and the environment she’s built for it.” Alondra adjusts the collar of her white shirt.
“And what about Camila’s Fizzyhouse? You know what she’s like…” Dana leans back in her chair, fingers steepled under her chin. “Camila? Oh, that’s a fun one.” She glances at Ayomide before continuing. “Fizzyhouse is interesting. Camila always has something up her sleeve. She’s participating, but I suspect her primary interest isn’t just showcasing the estate.”
Ayomide’s lips twitch slightly. “ Camila has expressed interest, yes. She’s quite enthusiastic about the concept.”
“Enthusiastic,” Dana echoes with a knowing chuckle. “That’s one word for it. She’s not exactly subtle when she wants something, is she?”
“She’s direct,” Ayomide corrects smoothly. Debora Silva, TikTok star and hereditary multimillionaire, flips through the papers in front of her.
“Hmm… about Ms. Norwin… Pretty strong actress. My nephew is totally obsessed with her work. But lately she’s mostly focused on fine art and golf, right? You said she lives at Château des Rêves. You mentioned there’s an issue there with that Alex.”
Debora, wearing a white blazer and white pants, finally finds the sheets with their brief dossiers. “Alex is one of the publishing house’s ‘Jokers’ and her boyfriend, correct? Have you figured out how to keep him from accidentally getting exposed as the author of the house’s top-selling books?”
Dana leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “That’s a delicate situation. Alex has managed to keep his identity secret this long, but the longer he stays with Kate, the harder it gets. Especially with the mansion parties and all.”
“Kate throws quite the soirees,” Ayomide adds. “The guest lists get extensive.”
“And Alex doesn’t exactly revel in the attention,” Alondra says, tapping her pen against the tablet. “We all saw how he was at the company dinner last year. The poor guy looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there.”
Dana nods. “Exactly. And yes, such behavior relates to his panic attacks in the past. So we need to make sure his personal space stays protected.”
Gita Hassan, Sogni Nudi’s content director, wearing a pink blazer and pink pants, leans back in her chair. “So, the threat of his panic attacks flaring up again keeps him in the shadows… Nothing to worry about, right?”
She pauses.
“Or not quite?” The conference room hums with the low thrum of air conditioning and unspoken tensions. Dana watches Gita’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow arch, a silent challenge hanging in the space between them.
“Nothing to worry about?” Dana repeats, a dry chuckle escaping her. “Gita, honey, we’re talking about the guy who wrote ‘Midnight Sapphic’ and ‘The Chancellor’s Secret.’ His books fund half our operating budget. If some gossip blogger at one of Kate’s wine-soaked parties connects the dots between the reclusive boyfriend and the prose that makes suburban moms wet between their legs while they sit with their e-readers… it’s not just a problem. It’s a fucking extinction-level event for his career.” Ayomide raises an eyebrow with interest. “So, did you settle this issue, Dana? Just don’t tell me that this Alex or Kate ultimately dug their heels in and didn’t want to. Because of the special location of Château des Rêves in Dreamside’s Mansion and Estate District, we won’t be able to ignore them. All the idle gawkers flock there like bees to honey. No matter what kind of media representatives they are, they’re media representatives. We’d better keep the situation under control before some journalist shows up there and starts… Well, you get it.”
Lauren González, editor-in-chief of Sogni Nudi (and Ayomide’s girlfriend), wearing a grey blazer and grey pants, rolls her eyes and giggles. “Rest assured, Ms. Alade,” she says in a playful voice, teasing her girlfriend. “Ms. Lovell banished the erotic genius to Cambria, starting right on the 28th as soon as Erodreamarts kicks off.” She glances at Dana. “And by the way, who’s that rapper from LA? You said Kate mentioned him when you talked to her on the phone today.”
Dana, Ayomide, and the Board of Directors do not care about Alex’s and Kate’s personal lives. They have no idea what is going on there.
Dana sighs. “Some friend of theirs. Kate didn’t give details. Name’s Brian. He’ll be hanging out at Château des Rêves for a while.”
At that point Debora speaks up. “Brian? Brian Jackson? King B? Wait… Damn, that’s awesome! He’s got a new album dropping this summer—‘Honey.’ Maybe we should involve him in Erodreamarts too, since he’ll be at the mansion anyway?”
Dana exhales sharply, tapping her fingers against the conference table. “Careful there, Deb. We already have enough celebrity drama to manage without adding another household name to the mix.”
Debora pouts and leans forward. “But he’s friends with Ariana, isn’t he? And she’s already doing her thing for Erodreamarts.” She gestures vaguely. “It could be good PR if we bring him in—have him do a little performance at one of the launch events or something.”
Lauren snorts. “Yeah, Dana, think about it—Brian Jackson at Château des Rêves. That alone would make people lose their minds. Imagine the buzz.”
Dana’s eyes narrow slightly as she considers it. She exhales slowly, tapping her fingers against the table. “Fine. But we do this carefully. I’ll run it by Kate first, see if she’s even interested. No promises.”
Debora beams, practically vibrating in her seat. “Yes! This is gonna be so fun. And Gita, don’t give me that look—of course I’m thinking about the optics. If we play this right, we could make him part of the brand for this event. Maybe even get him to do a collab with one of our girls. The possibilities are endless.”
Gita smirks, though a calculating intensity lingers in her gaze. “Endless is right.”
February 5, 6:45 PM. Mansion and Estate District of Dreamside, Cheryl Hill estate.
Cheryl, Aria, and Tara sit together in the brightly lit living room of the Cheryl Hill estate. Cheryl wears a bright red dress with a deep neckline over her small breasts. Aria wears a very short white miniskirt and a white crop top that leaves her midriff bare. Tara wears loose black pants and an orange t-shirt. They lounge on a big soft blue couch facing a wall-sized TV that streams footage from one of the cameras. The maids clean the room in clear view.
“Yeah, I’ve got my girls on staff at the Topanga Canyon Inn. And yes, they’ve installed hidden cameras in the suite where Kate and Brian are gonna have their date. We’ll see and hear everything,” Cheryl says playfully.
“Who’re you even telling that to? I don’t give a fuck, Cherry.” Tara giggles, takes a sip of apple juice from her glass, and sets it back on the coffee table. “I’m not even involved in whatever scheming is going on around Château des Rêves. It’s you and Aria who’ll get executed for this.”
Aria lets out a breathy little laugh, her hands clasped together in her lap. “Yeah, but it’s so worth it, right?” She glances at Cheryl and Tara with a conspiratorial smirk. “I mean, I just can’t wait to watch how Brian handles Kate tonight. That boy’s got moves.” She fans herself dramatically.
“And besides,” she continues, nudging Cheryl with her elbow, “you’re the one who installed those cameras in the first place. You really think I’d be saying this if I thought we’d get caught?”
Cheryl grins, her gaze flickering back to the screen where the maids finish cleaning. “Nah, I know you wouldn’t.”
Tara giggles. “Yeah… This isn’t exactly how I pictured our dinner, Cherry,” she says to Cheryl, leaning back against the couch. “But damn, this is even better. Oh… poor Alex.” She rolls her eyes. “I barely know the guy, but… dunno, it’s kinda weird. He’s not in an open relationship with Kate.”
At that moment, the maids’ voices come through the screen. Cheryl, Tara, and Aria catch snippets of their conversation. “…Some black bull-fucker. He was already here with some slut with a ponytail. Fucked her so hard we thought the walls were gonna collapse.” The maids walk away from the camera, laughing. They clearly mean Aria by “some slut with a ponytail.”
Aria lets out a little huff and shakes her head. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, girls. He’s still got my ass printed on his dick, don’t worry about that.” She smirks, glancing between Cheryl and Tara. “You two should be thanking me, you know. I’m making this so much more interesting than it would’ve been if Brian and Kate just hooked up at the mansion. Now we get to watch it happen in real time.” She scoots closer to the screen, resting her chin on her hand as she admires the camera angles in the suite. “Mmm, perfect placement. I can see every inch of that bed.”
Tara giggles. “Yeah, Topanga was your idea. And this whole… thing that’s about to happen now. But the cameras in the suite—that’s all thanks to Cheryl.” She stares at the screen, absent-mindedly stroking the back of the couch with her right palm. “…shoving a fifteen-inch dick into a living person… What a horror!” Tara bursts out laughing. “So what’s the point? You two want Kate to dump Alex or what?”
Aria exhales sharply, shaking her head with a small smirk. “No, no, of course not. Kate’s still crazy about Alex. She’s just… exploring. And honestly? I think Alex knows it too.” She leans forward, elbows on her knees, eyes locked on the screen. “But this? This is going to be fun to watch.”
Tara adjusts her orange t-shirt and throws a glance at Aria. “Really? And what about Brian himself? What if he decides he wants to keep Kate for himself—as an addition to you, so to speak?”
She shifts her gaze back to the screen and sighs. “You two are definitely hiding something from me… You’re risking going without cunnilingus tonight, Cheryl.”
Aria smirks, rolling her shoulders back as she leans closer to the screen. “Brian’s got his hands full with me already,” she says, voice smooth and assured. “And I’ve made sure he knows that if he fucks this up, I’ll cut his dick off myself.” She snaps her fingers dramatically. “But I think he’s fine with that arrangement. He gets Kate, I get my little threesome fantasies… everyone’s happy.”
Tara giggles. “And then what, Ari? You gonna live with Brian and Kate as a throuple? And where do we put Alex? And if that’s the plan, why don’t you just fuck Alex yourself while Kate’s getting railed by Brian? Alex could start ‘exploring’ too, you know.” Tara playfully wiggles her eyebrows at Aria. “And stop drilling the TV with your eyes. The date only starts…” Tara glances at her black digital wristwatch. “…in 10 minutes, at 7 PM. Though they might be late.”
Aria lets out a small, exasperated laugh. “Oh my God, you really think I want Alex? No, no, no—he’s a precious thing, and I don’t mess with that. I just like watching people do stupid things for love.” She watches the screen and adjusts the volume slightly. The Topanga Canyon Inn’s ambiance—soft lighting, rustic decor—fills the space with an almost intimate quality.
Tara leans back and stretches her arms behind her head. “So you’re just gonna let Brian and Kate get wild and then what? Do you have some master plan, or are you just getting off on it?” Her pink-streaked hair sways as she shifts position.
Cheryl smirks, not looking away from the monitor showing the empty Topanga Canyon Inn suite. “Tara’s got a point. You’re orchestrating a whole damn romance novel, and you’re just… the director in the shadows. It’s a little twisted, even for you, Ari.”
Aria waves a dismissive hand. “It’s not twisted. It’s… efficient. Brian gets his muse, Kate gets her… exploration, and I get a front-row seat to the drama. And maybe a fun new dynamic in the bedroom. It’s a win-win-win.” She checks the time on her phone. “Two minutes. They’re probably in the parking lot.”
February 5, 6:50 PM. Topanga Canyon Inn parking lot.
The red Acura NSX pulls into the parking lot. Inside sit Kate and Brian.
Kate wears a minimalistic classic dress: a bright red long-sleeved piece with a fitted bodice and a flared A-line skirt that ends above the knee. A high neckline features a crisp white pointed collar that gives it a preppy, almost schoolgirl vibe. A slim black belt cinches her waist. The sleeves end cleanly at the wrists. On her feet are elegant gray heels with a black polka-dot pattern. Her makeup stays soft with matte rosy lipstick and black mascara. Her hair falls down with a gentle side part, slight waves at the ends, and subtle root volume. A sleek black shoulder bag hangs off her arm.
Brian wears black suit trousers and a crisp white shirt that pops against his deep, rich chocolate skin.
Brian has no idea that Cheryl and Aria watch him and Kate through a dozen hidden cameras in the suite they booked. But he knows one thing: he cannot fuck this up. He remembers every instruction from Aria and Cheryl: act like a gentleman, but make damn sure Kate feels the contrast between him and Alex.
Kate suspects nothing: not Aria’s plan, and definitely not the cameras.
She already tunes in for sex with Brian. Their hungry make-out session in his car at the Château des Rêves parking lot an hour ago proves that. In ten minutes their date in the suite begins, and Kate feels ready for a lot. She still loves Alex deeply, her Baby Boy Alex, but the pull toward Brian grows stronger by the minute. Alex’s full consent and Aria’s little talks only fuel it. So does the memory of that billboard from Plant Growth Technologies Inc. she saw on the evening of February 3rd while driving back to the mansion: a happy young brunette with short hair surrounded by lush plants, and the slogan “Grow with us, grow beyond yourself.”
Kate lets out an excited little sigh and adjusts her white pointed collar. “Grow beyond yourself.” Yeah. That is exactly what she needs right now. Especially after four years in a comfort zone with Alex. The Acura’s engine clicks off, plunging them into the canyon’s quiet.
Kate’s fingers linger on the door handle. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been on a first date that started with a hotel room.”
Brian grins, a flash of white in the dim light. “Gotta skip the boring part. Life’s too short for small talk and overpriced appetizers.”
“Tell me about it.” She smooths the red fabric of her dress over her thighs. “Alex would spend forty-five minutes debating the ethical implications of valet parking.”
Brian’s laugh rolls out low and warm. “That’s my point.”As they walk toward the hotel building and the reception desk where two young female staff members wait, Kate’s mind drifts back to Alex’s offer for Brian to move into Château des Rêves.
She blinks back to the present and glances sideways at Brian. The two young women at the reception desk try—and fail—to look professionally detached. Their eyes flick from Brian to Kate and back again, a silent, giddy acknowledgment of who checks into a secluded inn on a Monday night.
“Life’s too short for a lot of things,” Kate says as they approach the wooden deck of the main building. “Including pretending we’re not thinking about what happens next.”
Brian’s grin widens. “Damn right.”
She stops just before the steps. The soft glow from the inn’s lights catches the gold in her hair. “So. Alex has an idea.”
“Yeah? The valet-philosopher has ideas?” Brian asks.
Kate laughs. “Yep. He wants you to move in with us at Château des Rêves. For easier navigation.”
She says it teasingly, playfully waggling her brows while they stand outside on the wooden steps leading up to the entrance.
Brian can barely keep from jumping for joy. Everything goes way better than he ever imagined. His breath catches. “You’re serious?” He scans her face for any sign of hesitation. All he sees is that mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
Kate nods, biting her lower lip like she holds back laughter. “As serious as you want to be about it, King B.” She reaches up and smooths his shirt collar with mock solemnity. “My Baby Boy thinks it would be efficient. Less running around between Beverly Hills and Dreamside. More time for creative pursuits.”
Brian exhales sharply. His fingers twitch at his sides before he catches himself. “Damn, girl. You’re really—“ He stops and clears his throat. “You’re really doing this.”
“Mmhmm.’ Kate nods and steps closer, her fingers trailing down his chest. “Unless you don’t want to?’ She tilts her head, but her nails brushing against his sternum betray her.
“Fuck no,” he breathes. His hands settle on her waist. “Hell yeah, I want to.”