Conquering Ladies With My 10x Rebate System

"Our father... he was a drunk," Helene began, her voice cracking slightly under the weight of emotions pressing against her chest.

Caleb didn't need her to say more—after that first line, he could already guess it was the same story as in his past life.

But he didn't interrupt. He knew better. She needed to let this out, and the best thing he could do was listen.

If there was one thing he'd learned after years of working as a customer service agent, it was this: when someone is emotional, they don't need advice right away—they need to vent. Letting them pour out their frustration always worked best.

And Caleb? He was good at listening. He could gather valuable information during moments like these... and maybe, just maybe, find the perfect solution to their problem.

It was a skill honed from his daily work in his previous timeline.

So he sat quietly, giving her the space to continue.

"It's always said that alcohol heals the heart..." Helene's lips trembled as she spoke, her gaze distant. "But Steve never got to confirm that—not until our mother died... And I guess that was when everything changed."

The memories came rushing back as she continued.

For Steve Garcia, losing his wife was like losing the world itself.

After that day, everything about him shifted. He drowned himself in liquor night after night until the man they once knew ceased to exist.

He began leaving the house late, abandoning his two young daughters in a cold, empty home.

Sophia, the older one, stepped up to take care of her little sister.

Their father had become completely useless. Drinking was all he knew, living the same cycle over and over.

Yet, despite everything, the two girls still loved him. They clung to the hope that someday, he'd return to the man he used to be before their mother's death.

But Steve never came home at night. The girls were left to fend for themselves. Sophia took up a side job, and even then, life was barely manageable—every day felt like survival, and everything they earned went from hand to mouth.

Without their father, reality hit hard.

"We still loved him despite everything... We believed all he needed was time. But here's the thing: when someone dives into a life they aren't built for, disaster always follows," Helene said, her voice catching in her throat.

"One night, he came back home. We were happy—we thought he was beginning to recover. But when we saw how he staggered inside, reeking of alcohol so strong it clung to him like a long-lost friend... Sophia warned me something was wrong."

Her voice dripped with bitterness as she spoke, her expression distant, as though reliving that moment.

"'Sophy, you said I shouldn't meet Dad? But this is the first time in a month he's come home!' I remember pouting when my sister dragged me back into our room so we could give him space."

"Helene… Dad's still drunk. We'll greet him in the morning," Sophia said gently, trying to calm my excitement.

She didn't argue anymore. She just laid my head on the pillow reluctantly, while Sophie held me close until I drifted off.

But it didn't take long before my eyes snapped open.

She could hear Sophia's soft but steady snoring beside me.

The poor girl must've been exhausted... Working multiple shifts at her age couldn't have been easy for anyone.

She was out the moment her head hit the pillow, lost in a deep, heavy sleep.

"Hehehe… I'll meet Daddy! I'm sure he brought something back for us!" She whispered with a grin, carefully slipping out of Sophia's embrace.

This was how she always tricked me whenever Dad came home with goodies.

Since he worked late, he'd usually come back around bedtime. Sophia would tuck me in and then wake up earlier than me to snatch the surprise first!

"Your trick won't work this time!" Little Helene giggled mischievously, tiptoeing toward the door like a tiny villain in the making.

She gently pulled it shut behind her, making sure not to wake Sophia.

And then—she ran. Bare feet padding softly against the cold floor as she darted straight to the door opposite theirs.

Her tiny hand reached for the knob, heart pounding with excitement.

It only took a twist of the knob, and the door creaked open.

"Daddy?" Her small voice was barely louder than a whisper, laced with excitement.

The room smelled strange—sharp, bitter, and heavy. A stench that made her tiny nose wrinkle in discomfort.

The light from the hallway spilled in, landing on the man slumped at the edge of the bed.

"Daddy…" she called again, stepping closer.

His head lifted slowly, heavy and sluggish, like a puppet pulled by broken strings. His bloodshot eyes glimmered faintly in the dark, unfocused yet eerily fixed on her.

"Sandra?…" His voice slurred, dripping with something that made her heart skip.

For a second, fear pricked at the edges of her mind—but she shoved it away. He was her father. This was Daddy. He would never hurt her.

"No dad! It's Helene" she replied with a pout, displeased that her father had forgotten her own face. But she didn't let it linger much.

"You came back!" she said with an excited giggle as she ran towards the old man.

"Did you bring us—"

Her words shattered when his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

Helene froze.

"D-Daddy?" Her voice cracked, her small body stiff as his grip tightened like iron around her delicate wrist.

He pulled her closer—too close. The smell of liquor hit her full force, making her stomach churn.

"Sandra... Sandra, y-you left me?... You're back! Come let's have fun... next time you won't leave I promise." he mumbled, his hot breath washing over her face. His other hand reached for her cheek, rough and trembling.

Helene's smile vanished. Terror spread like wildfire in her chest.

"Daddy… you're scarring me," she whimpered, trying to pull away.

But he didn't stop.

His fingers slid from her cheek to her neck, then lower—

He pushed her to the bed....

"You're trying to resist me now?" Steve asked with a voice filled with anger and annoyance.

"NO!" Her scream pierced the silence, loud enough to shake the walls.

She thrashed, kicking and twisting with all the strength her tiny body could muster. Tears blurred her vision as panic clawed up her throat like fire.

The sound of rushing footsteps thundered down the hall.

"HELENE!" Sophia's voice, sharp and panicked.

Then—impact. Sophia slammed into him with a strength Helene never knew her sister had.

The world became chaos—shouting, screaming, the crash of a bottle shattering against the floor.

"RUN, HELENE!"

Her legs moved before her mind could. She bolted, tears streaming down her face, heart hammering so hard it felt like it would break her ribs.

Behind her, she heard Sophia yelling, struggling, her voice cracking with rage and fear.

That night, everything shattered.

Their father… the man they loved… had turned into something else. Something monstrous.

Helene never forgot the feel of his hands on her, the weight of his body when he pulled her close.

From that day on, she swore she would never let any man touch her again.

Until Caleb.

Whenever she saw men, a sense of insecurity and fear clung to her like a plague.

She never showed it outright—yes, she interacted with men. She talked to plenty, in fact.

After all, they lived in the same world as her; avoiding every man was impossible.

But deep down, that fear and unease were always there, tangled with a faint thread of disgust.

Caleb, however… was different.

There was something about him—a quiet charm that drew her in, breaking through the walls she thought were unshakable.

Around him, she felt… safe.

Almost as if she could tell him everything.

After pouring out her story, Helene wiped her tears with trembling hands, erasing every trace of them as if she had never cried in the first place.

Caleb sat there, silent. He didn't know what to say. He had already heard the same story from Sophia once before, and it stirred something deep inside him—a mix of anger and pity.

'One trauma… two paths,' Caleb thought grimly. 'One became timid and withdrawn. The other hardened herself into steel.'

"I'm really sorry about that…" he said softly.

"No, you shouldn't be," Helene interrupted, shaking her head quickly. "I shouldn't shove everyone away because of that… Uhm, I just… I think you're different."

Her voice faltered, and color rushed to her cheeks.

Then, as if realizing what she'd said, she quickly shifted the topic.

"So… what did you come here to ask me?" she asked, her tone a little too hurried.

"Well," Caleb leaned back slightly, his green eyes fixed on her, "I just wanted to know… did you and your sister have any other plans before meeting me and Naya? And why exactly did you both approach us?"

Helene's eyes widened. The question struck like lightning, freezing her in place.

The words caught in her throat.

'What do I tell him?'