NewEraCulture

A high-society romance where pretense turned into reality.
 
Van, the heir to a top-tier fortune and a regular on the front page of the Wall Street Journal, had been mocked for being perpetually single, with even rumors swirling about his "dysfunction."
 
Winnie, a Hollywood superstar desperate to escape her constant barrage of scandals, encountered this billionaire worth tens of billions. To her surprise, Van presented her with an unexpected proposal:
 
"Pretend to date me for a year. You won't have to do anything else. I'll pay you $100 million after taxes."
 
She planned to laugh it off but couldn't ignore the man's chiseled features—the way his shadowed face was lit up as he casually raised an eyebrow and lit a cigarette in the glow of firelight, his voice steady and laced with danger.
 
She remembered their first meeting in a torrential downpour—the man reclining in a silver Maybach, eyes half-closed, exuding charm yet utterly unattainable. She also remembered later, when everyone had believed him to be unshakable and untouchable, he had appeared alone, worn and weary, at her remote desert film set, quietly asking:
 
"Do you really have to shoot this kiss scene?"
 
Behind this contract lay something far deeper than money—a fixation, a love that had turned real, or perhaps an irresistible force neither of them had recognized.
 
$100 million had set the stage for a high-stakes battle of love and hate that would ultimately unravel.

A Love Confession from Las Vegas

Van sat relaxed, relaxed but elegant, his body facing the passenger side, one hand resting on the back of the seat, the other casually gripping the steering wheel. His head was slightly lowered, eyes veiled, with a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.


Perhaps it was because his eyes were closed, but the oppressive air that usually came with his high position had faded somewhat, and a more refined and gentle aura emerged.


"You usually make it hard for people to look at you," Winnie said suddenly.


"No, of course not," Winnie denied, smiling. "It's just that you're so high-ranking. Even when standing face-to-face, you still seem to be looking down from a high place, making it hard to look at you directly."


Her pause in that moment felt strangely long.


"Now that your eyes are closed, I can finally look at you," she added.


Chapter 32