Harem Investment System: Getting Money And Women-Chapter 213: Natalie Wren

Ethan continued eating, taking slow bites of his filet mignon and savoring the taste.

He had to admit — the food was incredible.

The steak was tender, cooked to perfection, and seasoned just right, while the mashed potatoes were smooth and buttery.

It was the kind of meal that reminded him why people were willing to pay so much for fine dining.

Around him, the quiet hum of conversation filled the air. Unlike the usual loud chatter of casual restaurants, this place had a certain etiquette.

Everyone was focused on their own affairs, engaged in business talks or simply enjoying their meals. Nobody interrupted the other.

There were no rowdy customers or unnecessary distractions — just the soft clinking of utensils, the occasional sip of wine, and the murmuring of voices.

The air conditioning was cool but not overwhelming, providing the perfect atmosphere for a relaxed meal.

Ethan noticed surprisingly that there were younger individuals too, not just the rich successful older men.

Some high school or college students were scattered around, sitting with laptops open, typing away as they sipped on overpriced coffee.

"Probably working on assignments or projects," Ethan thought. He could see why they would come here.

The ambiance, the free Wi-Fi, the quiet — it was the perfect place to focus.

Everything seemed too perfect.

And then, just as he was about to take another bite, someone pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.

Ethan's grip on his fork tightened slightly, his instincts kicking in before his brain could process what was happening.

He lifted his gaze, meeting the eyes of a woman who had settled comfortably in the seat across from him.

She wasn't someone he recognized, but the confidence in the way she sat down, the way she leaned slightly forward with a small, knowing smile — it was as if she had been planning this.

"How are you doing?" she asked, her voice smooth, casual, yet carrying an undertone of curiosity.

Ethan didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied her.

She was in her mid-to-late twenties, with shoulder-length chestnut brown hair styled in loose waves.

Her eyes were a striking shade of green, sharp and observant, like she was always analyzing everything around her.

She was dressed in a dark red blouse that fit snugly against her frame, paired with tailored black slacks. Expensive-looking earrings dangled from her ears, subtle yet elegant.

She looked like someone who belonged in Silicon City — someone who was used to getting what she wanted.

Ethan sighed internally. He had been enjoying the peaceful atmosphere, and now, this.

He set down his knife and fork, wiping the corners of his mouth with the linen napkin before finally responding.

"I'm fine," he said simply. "And you?"

The woman smirked slightly, as if amused by his short reply.

"I'm doing quite well," she replied, resting her chin on her palm. "Though I have to say, it's not often you see someone like you eating alone in a place like this."

Ethan arched a brow. "Someone like me?"

She tilted her head slightly. "Young. Dressed in a hoodie. Sitting in a high-end restaurant, eating filet mignon like it's just another Tuesday."

Ethan could see where this was going. She was trying to figure him out.

"I'm just passing through," he said, deciding to keep things vague.

"Passing through, huh?"

She tapped a manicured finger against the table, her expression thoughtful.

"That's interesting. Most people who come to a restaurant like this either live in Silicon City or have some kind of business here. But you… you don't seem like the typical businessman."

Ethan exhaled quietly. He didn't owe her an explanation, but something about the way she spoke made him feel like she was used to getting answers from people.

Instead of responding directly, he leaned back in his chair slightly. "You always sit at random people's tables and interrogate them while they're eating?"

She laughed at that, the sound light but full of amusement. "Only when they seem interesting."

Ethan wasn't sure whether to be flattered or annoyed.

"Alright," he said, humoring her. "Since you're so curious, why don't you tell me who you are first?"

She smiled. "Fair enough. My name is Natalie. Natalie Wren."

The name didn't ring any bells, but something about the way she said it — like she expected him to recognize it — made Ethan think she was someone important.

"Nice to meet you, Natalie," he said neutrally. "I'm Ethan."

"No last name?" she asked, her green eyes twinkling with intrigue.

He smirked slightly. "Just Ethan."

Natalie studied him for a moment before nodding. "Mysterious. I like it."

zHe wasn't sure what she wanted from him, but he also wasn't in the mood to play along.

"So, Natalie," he said, picking up his glass of water and taking a sip. "What exactly do you want?"

Natalie leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "I just wanted to talk. You see, I have a habit of noticing people, and you stood out."

"Because of the hoodie?"

She chuckled. "Because you don't fit in here. And yet, you're completely comfortable. That tells me you're either rich enough to not care, or confident enough that you don't need to prove anything to anyone."

Ethan didn't respond to that.

Natalie took his silence as confirmation. "So, which is it?"

Ethan glanced at his plate, then back at her. "Why do you care?"

Natalie smirked. "Curiosity. And maybe a bit of professional interest."

Now that caught his attention. "Professional interest?"

She tapped her fingers against the table again. "Let's just say I deal with people who have potential. And I have a good eye for spotting interesting opportunities."

Ethan narrowed his eyes slightly. "Are you trying to recruit me for something?"

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Natalie laughed. "Not necessarily. But I am wondering what you're doing in Silicon City. A guy like you doesn't just pass through without a reason."

Ethan exhaled slowly. He hadn't planned on drawing attention, and yet, somehow, he had.

Maybe it was just bad luck.