World Domination Begins With Getting a System in a Modern World-Chapter 161: Rachel Cobb [Power Stone Goal Bonus - ]

Rachel chased after James as he disappeared down the side deck. Her steps were fast, her breaths uneven, but James didn’t stop.

James noticing that Rachel was still chasing, sighed. He’d had enough.

He halted abruptly, spinning to face her.

"Back off," he said sharply, his tone laced with irritation.

Rachel stopped in her tracks, blinking. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she hesitated—watching the man she had dismissed earlier now look at her like she was an annoyance he didn’t have time for.

James turned away, intent on walking off.

But then she said it.

"Wait. Please... wait."

The words stopped him—not the plea itself, but the weight behind it. Her voice wasn’t sharp or theatrical. It was genuine. And that was what made him pause.

James paused, exhaled slowly, and turned his head halfway.

"Say whatever it is you need to say. Quickly. I’m hungry. I left my food back there with that idiot, and I can’t be bothered to take it with me."

Rachel opened her mouth... then closed it again.

James raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

She sighed, her shoulders dropping as if letting go of years of pride. Her eyes flicked away, to the sea. Then finally, she spoke — so low he almost didn’t hear it.

"I need your help," she said quietly.

James stared at her like she’d just spoken another language.

"You need my what?"

"Your help."

He blinked, incredulous.

"You... want my help. The same man you couldn’t even look in the eye less than two hours ago? The one who apparently didn’t belong at your table?"

Rachel flinched, just slightly. Her perfectly composed mask was beginning to crack.

"What could you possibly need from someone like me?" James chuckled, humorless.

"Yeah, no. I’m not interested." He turned to leave.

But just as he stepped away, he felt a tug at his shirt.

He looked back, startled to find Rachel holding onto him, her delicate hand clinging to the edge of his shirt.

Her expression wasn’t cold or dismissive now. It was... desperate. Eyes wide, mouth trembling.

James felt his stomach twist—not from pity, but discomfort.

Disgust even. It felt like he was being manipulated.

He pulled away from her grip.

"Let me be for a while," he said. "I’m starving. Whatever game this is, save it."

"I’m not playing games—"

"I said let me be."

Rachel’s lips parted to speak again, but James raised a hand and added, "Also? Don’t follow me. Your presence is creeping me out. Just... wait somewhere. I’ll find you if I feel like it."

Rachel’s brows pinched together. For someone used to controlling every room she walked into, the words stung.

She was beautiful—effortlessly so. Her figure was graceful, lean, her curves sculpted with elegance.

Everything about her from the cut of her white sundress to the faint sheen on her lips radiated quiet, expensive poise.

To be told her presence was "creepy"? It shook her. But she didn’t protest.

She simply sighed and nodded once. "Okay."

James shook his head and walked off, muttering under his breath.

He found his way back to the food station, grabbed a fresh plate, and took his time. The hunger had come back with a vengeance.

As he ate, he let his mind wander.

Rachel Cobb.

He still couldn’t believe she’d said she needed help. From him. Whatever the hell that meant.

Ten minutes later, James returned to the lower deck and scanned the crowd.

To his surprise, Rachel was still there.

Standing by one of the side railings, far from the crowd, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes fixed on the darkening horizon.

James tilted his head slightly. He thought she’d have left. But no, she was waiting for him.

And when she saw him approaching, she quickly straightened up, brushing her hair back and walking halfway to meet him.

She didn’t say anything at first. Neither did he.

They stopped a few feet apart, bathed in the soft glow of overhead lights.

"So?" James asked, crossing his arms. "What exactly do you want help with? I’m not making any promises until I hear what this is about."

Rachel hesitated, then looked away. Her voice was low, almost ashamed.

"My position in my family... isn’t what it seems."

James waited, saying nothing.

"My older brothers," she continued, "are wrecks. One’s a gambler with three failed startups. The other’s a trust-fund parasite who hides his incompetence behind charity boards and fake foundations. But they’re both men. And my father..." Her jaw tightened.

James studied her closely, catching the flicker of pain in her voice.

"He doesn’t believe in daughters inheriting. He believes in dynasties. Male-led ones."

She took a deep breath, steadying her emotions and her slightly, shaky breath.

"They’re already circling. Trying to freeze me out. Legally, socially, even emotionally. My father’s beginning to shift shares quietly, and I know one of them is angling to be written into the succession plan.

I’ve worked my ass off — quietly, in shadows — to hold our downtown REIT portfolio together. And now they want to reward me with nothing."

James frowned slightly. "That’s a problem, but not mine."

Rachel met his eyes. "I’m not done."

James gestured for her to continue.

"They’re planning to marry me off."

That made James stop. His brows lifted.

Rachel scoffed bitterly. "To a wastrel from another family. Someone whose father my dad owes a favor to. It’s an exchange — reputation, alliances, consolidation. I’m part of the deal."

"So what do you want from me?" James asked, tone flat.

Rachel swallowed, hard.

"You walked in here, no name, no legacy — and now everyone’s watching you like you’re someone they should pay attention to. You also humiliated William without caring about his family background like others. Even I..."

She faltered.

"I need someone like that in my corner. Not because I want protection. But because I need leverage."

James tilted his head.

"You’re asking for an alliance?"

Rachel nodded slowly.

"Call it whatever you want. I just... I need someone who can help me change the board my family’s playing on. Someone they’ll take seriously."

James stayed silent for a long moment.

Then, finally, he said: "You want a seat at the table. But you’re outnumbered. So you’re asking me to throw my weight behind you — no questions asked — because I embarrassed a frat boy with a superiority complex."

Rachel didn’t flinch.

James chuckled softly. "Why not go to Logan?"

"He’s... too tied to the system. His family wouldn’t risk this kind of blowback." freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

James let out a slow breath and leaned back slightly, studying her.

"You do realize what you’re asking me to step into, right?"

"I do," she said.

"I won’t be your knight. I don’t do saving."

"I’m not asking to be saved," she said. "I’m asking to fight back. And I need help. Yours."

Another long pause.

James smirked, then shook his head.

"You know what the funny part is? I believe you."

Rachel blinked.

"But I don’t trust you."

She tensed.

"Still," James added, "I’ll think about it. You’ll get my answer soon."

And with that, he turned and walked back toward the lounge — leaving Rachel standing under the yacht’s lights, a breathless gust of wind brushing her hair back.

As for what Rachel, honestly, it didn’t stick.

Now, it’s time for him to enjoy this party. At least, that’s what he’s supposed to do.