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

"Thank you," she said, slightly tilting her chin, forcing a smile at the corners of her lips.


Van gave a deep, low chuckle. "Good. I just happen to need a woman to help me fake a forced marriage. We know each other well, and with Terry as a guarantor, you're the perfect candidate."


"You're testing me?" Winnie froze for a moment. "That's no different from being a mistress."


"I won't touch you," Van lowered his gaze, his demeanor distant, as if he looked down on her. "You don't have to do anything."


"I don't believe you." Winnie swallowed, turning her face away, her eyes red. "Then what was all that just now? You have no credit."


"100 million," Van said, loosening his shirt collar with one hand while the other rested on his waist. He walked a few steps around the room, irritated, and added, "Think about it yourself."


Chapter 51