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

Just moments ago, he had been overcome with emotion, kissing her as if he couldn't let go. Now, it was already down to a curt 'no need to be polite."


'During the contract period, you're not obligated to fulfill any physical duties toward Mr. Marlowe, nor can he use the contract to coerce you into physical contact. If there's any violation, you have the right to terminate the agreement immediately, and we will pay you the full compensation," Eric continued.


Perhaps it was the overly polite tone of his voice that made it seem so detached and impersonal. Yet, in its own way, his tone was also oddly gentle.


Winnie thought to herself that she was being unreasonable. How could she blame this senior gentleman?


She nodded, replying with a soft 'Okay."


'All you need to do is accompany Mr. Marlowe to necessary events in the role of his girlfriend. Outside of that, there's no set number of times you're required to meet."


Winnie raised her face and smiled at Eric. 'Not strict."


Chapter 68