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

At this moment, Winnie wasn't sure if she was drunk. All she knew was that she had slowed her breathing, and when she heard Van's voice, the strong red wine she had made in the backyard started to rise up her face, making it feel hot all over, and the warmth spread to her cheeks, leaving her eyes burning.


"How did you know?" she held her breath.


Van casually replied, "My ears aren't deaf."


Van could tell she was quite drunk. His voice unconsciously softened, "Feeling bad?"


Winnie, caught out, gave a heavy, nasal "Mm."


Van gave a soft, almost inaudible chuckle, "You're more honest when you're drunk than when you're sober."


Winnie didn't catch his sarcasm, and without much thought, she asked, "Mr. Marlowe, how many pounds of girl do you think you could carry?"


Chapter 40