Chapter 10: The Androgynous Siren

Skylar Vance had never been ugly, nor was she afflicted by low self-esteem. On the contrary, her facial features were exquisitely refined and strikingly dimensional—a true testament to delicate bone structure and flawless symmetry. Her skin was porcelain smooth, and her large, clear eyes, framed by long lashes, curved upward in a graceful arc. She was a world away from the common image of a rough country girl, often cursed with dry, chafed skin or perpetually flushed cheeks.

The virulent jealousy that drove Tina Vance, Mia Vance, and Tiffany Reid to torment Skylar had always stemmed from the moment they first saw her unadulterated beauty during their initial days of middle school. A woman’s envy, fueled by inadequacy, could twist into something far more toxic and corrosive than any conventional malice.

Now, as the breeze feathered through the short, choppy layers of her new haircut, Skylar lifted her gaze to the vast, open sky. A profound sense of relief washed over her. She had shed the psychological weight of the past, physically manifested in the curtain of dead hair. The transformation was complete.

For years in her past life, she had maintained a short hairstyle for the practical necessity of constant disguise and easy maintenance during missions. It was the uniform of an efficient killer. Paired with her newly acquired, crisp white jacket and black denim jeans—the modern silhouette emphasizing her lean, almost too-thin frame—her stunning features lost their naive softness, gaining a cold, commanding handsomeness.

She was now perfectly androgynous. Unless one observed her closely, she could easily be mistaken for a devastatingly handsome young man—a delicate, exotic ‘flower boy’ of immense, subtle power. Her gender was beautifully, lethally ambiguous. And she knew that in a year or two, once her body had fully matured and grown taller, she would be an utterly irresistible figure of masculine charm.

Alan Sterling had risen before dawn, his gut churning with anxiety. The printouts of the detailed contract lay ready, the official seal and documents arranged perfectly on his desk. He had been alone in the quiet jewelry store since before his staff arrived, constantly glancing at the door, half-convinced the encounter with the teenage phenomenon had been a stress-induced hallucination. If the rare, apple-green jade wasn't safely locked away in his safe, he would have dismissed the whole affair as a fever dream.

His staff began to arrive, bustling with their morning tasks, and continued to speculate in whispers about the mysterious person their usually calm boss was so desperately awaiting.

It was exactly 9:30 AM when a slender figure appeared in the doorway. The white jacket sculpted itself around a body that looked delicate yet taut, and a curtain of fine, dark hair brushed lightly over sharp cheekbones. A pair of eyes—clear and unnervingly bright, like bottomless wells reflecting the morning light—scanned the interior. She stood poised, radiating the silent perfection of a living masterpiece.

“Wow, what a beautiful face,” one assistant whispered.

“I know! We’ve seen plenty of rich young clients, but none as striking as this one,” another agreed.

“Wait, is that a boy or a girl?” a third wondered aloud.

Skylar’s natural beauty was staggering, but it was the combination of the sharp haircut, the neutral styling, and her inherently cold, detached expression that created the immediate gender confusion.

Alan Sterling noticed the commotion. His eyes flickered toward the beautiful, androgynous visitor, but he quickly dismissed the young client. He lowered his gaze to his wristwatch. Almost nine-thirty. Why isn’t she here?

A dark shadow fell over his desk. He looked up, his gaze connecting with the luminous eyes of the gorgeous visitor. For a brief, confusing second, Alan simply registered the youth’s presence as a beautiful distraction. “Can I help you?” he asked politely. He hadn't recognized her at all.

Skylar was not given to games. Her personality was sparse, direct, and cool. “Alan, it’s Skylar Vance.”

The effect of the words was immediate and devastating. Before his staff could even register how musically perfect the handsome stranger’s voice was, their boss vaulted out of his chair with such force that he sent it crashing to the ground.

“Y-You… you’re Skylar Vance? The one from yesterday…” His throat, already dry from hours of anxiety, seized up. He stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Skylar gave a slight, wry twitch of her lips—the ghost of a predatory smile. “It is me.” Did people react this intensely just because she changed her hairstyle? It wasn’t as if she’d undergone reconstructive surgery.

That small, knowing smile, however, was enough to make Alan’s vision blur again. He cleared his throat twice, recovering his professional veneer. “Ahem. You simply… look quite different from yesterday. I apologize, I didn’t recognize you. I have everything prepared. Please, come in.”

“Thank you.” Skylar walked toward the back office Alan indicated, utterly unconcerned that the owner of a prestigious jewelry shop was openly deferring to her.

To the shop assistants, the scene was pure, baffling drama. A man in his thirties, the established owner of the renowned Jade Fortune Jewelry, was bowing slightly and gesturing an intense young teenager toward his private office. It was a bizarre inversion of status. Skylar, however, was oblivious to Alan Sterling’s local prestige; she only cared about his utility.

She quickly scanned the partnership agreement, noting the meticulously drafted clauses and legal requirements. She was satisfied with Alan’s efficiency and professionalism. With a decisive sweep of her hand, she signed her name—a beautiful, firm script. Due to her minor status, she then applied a clear, sharp thumbprint next to the signature.

Alan watched, genuinely wondering if the girl had absorbed even a single commercial term from the dense document.

The contract was signed. Skylar Vance was officially a shareholder in Jade Fortune Jewelry.

Alan was about to launch into a detailed overview of the shop's operational status when Skylar beat him to it, her voice cutting through the space with quiet authority. “Alan, you used a significant portion of the shop’s working capital to secure that apple-green jade. Why the urgency?”

She cut straight to the core financial anxiety. $300,000 USD in cash plus the cession of 30% equity was a massive sum for a small jewelry business in this era. Alan loved jade, but he was a businessman first. Such a risky gamble had to be driven by intense pressure.

Her observation stunned Alan. He sighed, his earlier excitement replaced by a look of weary strain. He settled onto the sofa. “The city isn't lacking wealthy buyers, Skylar. The problem is our location. We are too far from the source—the raw jade market. We're at a major disadvantage in acquiring high-quality materials.”

He explained that the flow of resources was always centralized, spreading outward. The farther a business was, the weaker its supply lines. “The market holds a major auction every few months. If we can present a truly spectacular piece, like your jade, we can re-establish our reputation, gain influence, and secure better supply channels in the future.”

The city's jewelers were struggling because they couldn't compete for raw materials. Alan’s desperate attempt to secure the apple-green jade was a Hail Mary pass—a bid to impress the core of the industry.

Now, Jade Fortune Jewelry was partly Skylar’s. She would not permit her asset to fail. “When is the auction?” she asked.

“Tonight. I was planning to leave right after you signed the documents,” Alan admitted.

Skylar nodded, placing the documents aside. “Then I will accompany you tonight. We need to stock up.”

Stock up? Alan momentarily forgot his financial stress and almost chuckled. He had to remind himself that this was the girl who treated stone gambling—a trade even experts couldn't fully decipher—with the casual indifference of grocery shopping. “Very well. We should leave immediately. It’s a long drive—about three hours. We will need to stay overnight. Do you need to inform your family?”

Alan was trying to adopt a protective, paternal tone, sensing her youth. Skylar, however, dismissed the notion with a quick shake of her head. “We can leave now.”

She was completely certain of one thing: her family might curse her absence, but they would never bother to look for her. She was a non-entity to them, a burden happily gone.

Alan started to object again, but something in her cold, fixed expression made him stop. He knew instinctively that she hated his interference.

The raw jade market was located near the border of a neighboring city, nearly three hours away. When Alan finally pulled his car into a cheap, functional roadside inn, it was two o’clock in the afternoon.

After a quick, simple meal, the pair decided to rest before the evening auction. As they walked out, Skylar’s steps faltered. Her eyes fixed on a brightly lit sign across the road.