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

David returned to his office and smoked three cigarettes before finally dialing Winnie's number.


"The lawyers contacted me, and I also spoke with Alan. He's decided to let you go. But let me ask you, were you and your boyfriend photographed?" he asked tentatively.


Winnie had seen the trending news, but she wasn't panicked. In fact, she responded with a hint of sarcasm, "I'm not sure."


Her tone carried a sense of composure, as if she were waiting to see how the situation would unfold—whether there would be more leaks or if other names would be dragged into it.


"The company has made its decision. They won't handle PR in advance," David said.


"Well, that works for me. I'm used to it," Winnie replied calmly.


"Winnie..." David tried to say something else.


"Don't do this, David. We can still be friends. We can even keep in touch during the holidays," Winnie said slowly. "I wish you all the best."


At six o'clock in the evening, the trending list updated.


Chapter 119