Gangster to Idol

Everyone in the salon froze, especially the men, who couldn't help but gawk at the new arrival.

She was a vision of unparalleled beauty, wrapped in a body-hugging red dress that accentuated every curve, her shoulders draped in a luxurious white fur coat that exuded wealth and power.

She was adorned with millions of dollars' worth of jewelry, each piece sparkling under the salon lights, and carried a limited edition Hermès clutch, the kind only the elite could possess.

Her hair, a cascade of pink curls, was styled elegantly to one side, perfectly complementing her striking ruby-red eyes that gleamed with an icy detachment. Her face was a masterpiece of cold perfection — unapproachable, indifferent, and yet irresistibly captivating.

There was nothing soft or warm about her demeanor, but the sheer force of her presence was undeniable, leaving a trail of awestruck silence in her wake.

Victor was visibly flustered, and he lowered his head even further, while Cain instinctively stepped aside as the woman approached Mr. Richardson.

It was a narrow escape — if he hadn't moved, they might have collided, and that would've been disastrous, at least for him.

No matter how stunning she was, Cain couldn't bear the thought of being touched by her.

The woman briefly glanced at Cain, noticing his exaggerated sidestep. When she saw him relax with a visible sigh of relief, an inexplicable annoyance flickered within her. She didn't know why though.

"Father," she called, her voice smooth but firm. "Are you done here?"

Mr. Richardson laughed as he stood up, his salon gown sliding off to reveal the tattoos snaking up his neck and arms.

"Ah, my beautiful daughter," Mr. Richardson teased, his tone light. "How do I look?"

Usually, Felice would brush him off, saying he looked the same as always or that she couldn't care less. But this time, Carl was taken aback when his daughter actually responded differently.

"The hairstyle . . . It looks different. It suits you better this way."

Mr. Richardson gasped, tears nearly welling up in his eyes. He immediately began doting on his only daughter with exaggerated affection. "Felice? Do you really mean it? Is Daddy really handsome now?!

Do you like your father's face now?"

"Stop it. You're annoying," Felice replied, turning her back on him. "If you're finished here, let's go. You promised to buy me a new set of jewelry today."

"Ah, yes! Yes!" Mr. Richardson quickly adjusted his collar, then smiled at C.C for the first time, even giving him a pat on the shoulder. "This is for you. I expect to see you at my next haircut, young man."

Mr. Richardson handed Cain a stack of bills — ten thousand dollars just like that.

Cain hesitated. "This is too much," he said, knowing it wasn't really his skill but the [Celestial Comb] that deserved the credit.

Mr. Richardson laughed, but his expression quickly shifted to one of seriousness, his eyes narrowing to slits. "You're new, so I'll let it slide. But let me make something clear . . ." His voice dropped as he leaned in closer to C.C, whispering, "No one refuses anything I give them.

Got that?"

Cain froze for a moment before nodding and accepting the money. There was a dangerous glint in Mr. Richardson's eyes that sent a shiver down on his spine. His instincts screamed that this man was extremely dangerous.

"I'll remember that," Cain replied, not backing down from Mr. Richardson's intense gaze.

Mr. Richardson was intrigued — C.C. hadn't flinched or retreated, even under his intimidating stare. Others would simply look away and most would shook in fear from where they stood. He found himself both amused and curious about who this young man really was.

"Good. Good. Let's see each other again in my next visit," Carl said, turning his attention back to his daughter. Right now, his priority was doting on her, as promised.

"Wait, Felice! Wait for your father!" Mr. Richardson called out, bounding after his daughter with a clumsy urgency.

Felice was clearly annoyed, and gave him a sharp kick to the leg. Mr. Richardson was undeterred, and continued his affectionate fussing, completely unbothered by the jabs.

"What an odd father-daughter pair," Cain remarked, watching the scene unfold.

Victor still maintained his professional façade as he spoke up, "You should be grateful Mr. Richardson liked your style. It would have been trouble if he hadn't."

He gestured for the staff to clean up the area, his eyes still fixed on Cain.

Cain faced him with a scowl. "You know the stakes, and yet you assigned me to him on my first day. What's the deal? Trying to get me fired before I even start?"

Victor's face was impassive as he expertly flipped a pair of scissors, and replied, "Alexander may believe in your skills from just watching your videos, but many of us here had doubts. Is it so wrong to clear that doubt first?"

Cain was taken aback, glancing around at the staff. Their smiles seemed genuine now.

"Not many could impress Mr. Richardson like that. Good job, C.C."

"Sorry, we thought most of your videos were edited, so we had our doubts."

"I guess you really do have the skills."

"Welcome to the team, C.C."

Cain swallowed hard, trying to quench the dryness in his throat. What's with this sudden wave of goodwill? He felt uncomfortable with their affection.

Fifi beamed from the sidelines, and commented, "Well, what do you know. I thought they're just snobbish because you got in through the back door. They're actually good people."

Cain was even more surprised when Victor extended his hand to him.

"Welcome to Daddy's Salon."

Cain blinked in surprise before a small smile stretched across his face as he accepted Victor's handshake.

This was the start of his new life, and he hoped that everything would went well.

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