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

The interior of the car was spacious, like a private world where two people could quietly lean against each other. Winnie's layered pink skirt contrasted beautifully with the deep redwood accents of the car's interior, creating an atmosphere that was both soft and elegant. Her bare back, delicate as porcelain, showcased refined lines that appeared especially captivating under the dim lighting. Van's hand rested lightly on her waist, as if testing the warmth of her skin.


"Eric, raise the partition," Winnie's voice was gentle, yet carried an undeniable firmness.


Van raised an eyebrow and asked softly, "Why?"


She curved her lips into a faint smile and whispered, "I don't want anyone watching."


He chuckled quietly and casually commanded, "Eric, raise the partition."


"Yes, sir," Eric responded, his tone tinged with helplessness but also understanding.


Chapter 109