The climate-controlled wine cabinet in the penthouse apartment in Manhattan emitted an almost imperceptible hum—the six-figure compressor was maintaining the perfect storage temperature for the Bordeaux.
Li Fei gently swirled the stemmed glass in his hand. Beneath the refraction of the crystal, the dark red wine gleamed with the profound luster of a ruby.
Monica Bellucci's alluring body, carrying the rich scent of rose perfume, pressed tightly against his back. Her long, pale fingers slowly slid down along the contours of Li Fei's broad, sturdy lat muscles, feeling the perfect, explosively powerful lines of muscle, like those of an ancient Greek sculpture.
"Your business instincts are even more accurate than your blocks on the court."
Monica rested her chin on Li Fei's shoulder, her red lips parting slightly, her voice filled with undisguised admiration and infatuation.
Li Fei smiled faintly. His deep gaze passed through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows and looked down upon the bustling metropolis beneath his feet, known as the "Crossroads of the World."
The endless stream of yellow taxis along Fifth Avenue resembled gold coins flowing through the city's veins.
In this highly commercialized modern society, basketball had long ceased to be merely a sport. It was the core of a massive industrial chain, the ultimate battlefield where capital fought for supremacy.
Li Fei knew very well that the reason he could command such influence in this league was not merely because of his freakish 2.24-meter, 120-kilogram body with a Titanium Alloy Physique. It was also because he understood how to monetize that dominance.
The "Li Fei Sports Brand" that he had built together with his agent and brand operations officer, David Falk, had successfully rung the bell for its NASDAQ listing.
Signing Charles Barkley to launch the "Flying Pig" line had been a test of the