Entertainment: Starting as a Succubus, Taking Hollywood by Storm

With a devilish figure to boot, Kendall Jenner also boasted a face of pure innocence.

At sixteen, the girl's cheeks brimmed with collagen, now flushed a deep crimson from sheer embarrassment.

Her large Carlsen eyes, cast slightly downward, flicked shy glances at Martin now and then.

Prime beauty in full bloom.

Even Kim Kardashian was floored by her sister's shy, timid allure.

God, Kendall's bashful look is killer—I don't buy Martin not falling for it. This little vixen knows how to reel 'em in!

Martin savored the girl's blushing beauty while fishing the signed collector's edition of Harry Potter from his bag, handing it over to Kendall.

The teen forgot her awkwardness in a flash, clutching the hefty tomes with glee. She flipped open one, revealing elegant cursive script: "To the beautiful little princess Kendall Jenner—may your life be filled with joy."

Martin grinned sheepishly. "Each one's got a unique blessing. Hope you dig 'em."

"Oh, I love them—I adore them."

The girl's face glowed red, but this time from excitement, not shyness.

"Wow, your handwriting's gorgeous, Martin—like a work of art."

Kendall sighed, cracking another volume. Inside: "Wishing the lovely Miss Kendall Jenner ever greater beauty!"

Her cheeks burned hotter, a faint sheen of sweat beading on her nose.

Kim nodded along—Martin's script had her impressed too.

Snapping the books shut, Kendall looked up, eyes sparkling at Martin. If not for the stack in her arms, she'd have launched herself at him right then.

Damn, Kim thought. Should've snatched those books first.

"Kendall, hand 'em over—I'll have my assistant stash them in the car."

Kim scooped up the set.

But the giddy high had crested for Kendall.

Reason kicking back in, the girl felt her shyness and nerves return full force. Sure, she wanted to melt into Martin's arms—but she couldn't muster the guts!

Kim's eyes darted, scheming. "Martin, thanks for coming out tonight. Care for dinner after the show?"

Martin shot Kim a look.

He clocked her game crystal clear.

His gaze slid to Kendall—the girl's flushed face stirring something in him.

Alright, time to save another future "role-trapped" soul, one who won't get the happy ending she deserves!

"Sure—my pleasure!"

Kim whooped internally—Yes!—more thrilled than if Martin had picked her.

The rumors about Kim's control-freak streak? Spot on. She got a real kick out of puppeteering her sister's heart.

Mind racing, Kim pressed: "Martin, dinner's on me. I'll pick the spot—guaranteed satisfaction."

She skipped the restaurant name on purpose. Her plan? Host at—

"So... dinner at your place?"

Martin stepped out, eyeing the red-tiled white villa with amusement.

Kim's LA pad.

Back then, Kim wasn't rolling in dough like later years—no Beverly Hills mega-mansion yet.

"Martin, my place might be modest, but it's oceanfront—killer views. And my cooking? Top-notch."

No brag—back as Paris's lackey, she'd mastered skills to win boss points.

She didn't just cook; she baked cakes like a pro.

Martin turned, gazing out at the distant sea vista. "Sounds good—can't wait to taste your handiwork."

Kim's pulse quickened. That jawline's criminal. No wonder Paris was hooked—enough to overlook his other flames.

Swap me in? I'd look past 'em too. Just for one night. Too bad he wouldn't glance my way...

"Hey, hey—sis, what're you daydreaming about? Open the door already!"

Kendall's nudge snapped Kim from her trance. She shot her sister a glare, cheeks heating, and fumbled for her keys, unlocking in a rush.

Kendall seized the moment—Kim's back turned—to glare right back.

Ugh, not face-to-face guts. She stuck out her tongue instead.

Adorable as hell.

A big hand ruffled her hair, Martin's voice warm with teasing: "Careful—your eyes might pop out!"

Kendall giggled shyly, then zoned:

Martin's hand's so big—it could cradle my whole head.

So warm, too—like a cozy furnace. Feels amazing.

Hope he didn't mess up my hair...

Oh god, did he catch me grimacing? Was that ugly?

"..."

"Earth to Kendall?"

Kim's voice cut through.

Snap!—forehead flick from Kim. Kendall blinked back to reality.

Martin's hand had slipped away from her head who-knows-when.

Instant letdown crashed over her!

They filed inside.

Kim's place felt cozy, far from the sterile minimalism of her future mega-mansion. A touch cluttered, but brimming with lived-in charm.

"Martin, park on the couch—I'll have my assistant grab lobster and steaks. Tonight, you sample my skills."

"Kendall—kitchen, now. Help me out."

"But I wanna watch TV."

"Help."

"Aw, fine."

Kendall trailed her sister's swaying hips into the kitchen, thinking: Sis's ass looks even bigger...

Martin lounged on the sofa, flicking on the TV for news.

"...Local time, April 15, two explosions rocked the Boston Marathon finish line. At least three dead so far, including an 8-year-old child, with over 140 injured and hospitalized..."

"President Obama addressed the bombings, vowing the FBI will treat it as terrorism. Any timed bomb targeting innocents is an act of pure terror..."

"Not long after the marathon attack, Boston PD confirmed a similar blast at the JFK Presidential Library and Museum—no casualties reported..."

The infamous April 15 Boston Marathon bombing?

Martin thought, eyes on the screen.

It had blown up big in Asia too—tons of coverage. An asian exchange student, Ramon Marcos, died in the blast; her classmate Chelsea Gonzales, also from Philippines, was wounded.

Martin tuned out the bombing details, channel-surfing.

"...In a rural farm outside Thurder, southern Texas, authorities found the missing black tourist Santos and family. They're dead—bodies stashed in a grain silo, posed in grotesque shapes, as if part of some dark ritual..."

Weird ritual?

Martin eyed the report, a low-budget indie flick flashing in his mind.

Maybe time to bring that one to life.