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

She didn't recognize the gravity of the situation and thought Van was going to get angry and leave. Instead, he just exhaled heavily in relief.


When he spoke again, his tone was back to its cold, inscrutable nature, "How could it be useless? If you were in danger today, this call would have been useful."


Winnie froze, her hands instinctively lowering from above her head to her chest, her eyes never leaving Van's. She looked like a little girl making a wish.


Yulia, who was far too naive to sense the tension, escaped the man's aura and innocently asked, "Why not just make another call to confirm? If you had, there wouldn't have been so much drama."


Though her question was logical, Winnie just wanted her to stop antagonizing the man. "Sorry, Mr. Marlowe, my assistant—she…"


Van's face didn't show a trace of displeasure. He paused for a moment before lowering his gaze to look at Winnie. "I did think about it, but I was afraid it would jeopardize your safety."


Chapter 19