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

Outside, a few calls echoed through the hallway.


Winnie regained her senses quicker than Van. She gently pushed on his shoulder, her lips parting as she hurriedly gasped, "Mr... Mr. Marlowe... someone..." but she was silenced again by his kiss.


"M... Mr. Marlowe... someone... someone..." Her words were fragmented, nearly impossible to make out.


Winnie felt powerless, her hands pinned against the door by Van. Her fingers, painted with soft pink nail polish, curled weakly, her palms numb from his thumb pressing into them.


Her phone vibrated again, and Van finally stopped kissing her. He lowered his head, holding her in his arms, burying his face into her neck, breathing deeply as he gently pressed his lips to her shoulder.


Winnie swallowed a few times before asking quietly, "Is someone looking for you outside?"


Van didn't respond. He stayed with his head lowered, pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocked it, and answered the call.


Chapter 127