CHAPTER TWO

She had seen the setup before it happened, her father's twitching fingers at lunch as he drafted his plan, the too-perfect timing of the butler's whisper, the unusual tension in the household staff. Yet, knowing the pattern didn't mean she could stop it. Not when her father had already decided her fate.

Not when Liang Zeyan had unknowingly stepped into the trap.

She sat motionless on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees. A strategic position—one that made her look vulnerable. Weak. Exactly how her father wanted her to appear. The fabric of her silk dress hung loosely off one shoulder, the result of the butler's earlier grab when he'd forced her in here.

The moment Liang Zeyan's eyes met hers, she could read his thought process in real time.

Confusion. Recognition. Calculation.

He was weighing the possibilities. Analyzing the probability of this being an elaborate scheme versus an unfortunate accident.

Then came the final piece—the realization.

This was exactly what he wanted.

Liang Zeyan's stance was rigid, his expression unreadable, but there was a sharpness in his eyes—cold, assessing. The kind of sharpness that cut through deception, yet even he knew there was no easy way out of this.

It was a scandal waiting to explode.

"CEO Liang," Feng Lian's voice trembled with well-rehearsed disbelief. "I… I invited you here as a guest, and this is what you do?"

Zeyan didn't flinch. He straightened his sleeves, his face impassive, as if he hadn't just been caught in a web meant to ruin him. "I believe there's been a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?" Feng Lian let out a bitter laugh. "You expect me to believe that my daughter, my own blood, would throw herself at you like some desperate woman?"

Mian stiffened. The words, though not unexpected, still cut deep.

Her father didn't even try to mask his disgust.

"I never said that," Zeyan replied smoothly. His voice was a blade—calm, cold, dangerous. "But I will say this: if this was meant to be a trap, you should have been more subtle."

A flicker of something dark flashed through Feng Lian's eyes before he sighed, his expression twisting into something that resembled reluctant disappointment. "It doesn't matter what I believe, CEO Liang. The staff has seen. My daughter's reputation… it's already ruined."

Mian clenched her hands into fists, nails digging into her palms. Ruined? As if she had ever had a reputation worth saving.

Feng Lian turned to her with a sigh of exaggerated regret. "Mian, my poor child… I tried so hard to protect you."

Protect her? The man had spent her entire life trying to erase her.

Her lips parted, but no words came. Even if she spoke, who would believe her?

Zeyan remained silent for a moment. A long, assessing moment. His mind worked in calculations, weighing the consequences, the risks, the possible solutions. He could walk away, let the media frenzy tear the Feng name apart, but he knew what that would mean.

If Feng Mian was declared 'disgraced,' it wouldn't end with her. It would reflect on the Liang name too. Feng Lian would spin the narrative, and the business deal—his last lifeline—would be dust before morning.

Checkmate.

His jaw tightened.

"Name your price," he said finally, his voice flat.

Feng Lian's lips curled into a victorious smile. "I only ask for one thing." He turned, eyes gleaming. "Take responsibility."

Silence stretched between them.

Liang Zeyan wasn't a fool. He knew exactly what this was—a forced marriage, an attempt to tie his empire to the Fengs permanently. But as much as he despised being manipulated, he also knew that rejecting this 'responsibility' would only make things worse.

Besides… something about this woman unsettled him.

Not in the way he had expected.

He had never met her before tonight, yet there was an eerie familiarity in the way she watched him. As if she knew him—knew far more than she should.

Finally, he let out a breath, the weight of inevitability settling over him.

"Fine," he said. "I'll marry her."

Mian's heart stopped.

The words hit her like a strike to the chest, knocking the air from her lungs. She turned to him, her vision blurring slightly at the edges.

Marriage?

She had always been unwanted, ignored, a mere shadow in the Feng household. Now, she was to be married off like a bargaining chip?

No.

Her body reacted before her mind could stop it. She scrambled to her feet, her voice coming out sharp, desperate.

"I don't need—"

Her father's hand came down on her shoulder with a crushing grip. "Silence, Mian."

She stiffened, the weight of his fingers digging into her fragile frame.

"This is for your own good," Feng Lian murmured, low enough for only her to hear. "If you refuse, you'll be discarded completely. Is that what you want?"

Mian trembled.

She didn't bother giving an answer.

She knew what he meant. If she rejected this, he would make sure she disappeared. Completely.

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. 

 another voice cut through the air.

"What is going on here?"

Two figures appeared in the doorway.

Feng Rui and Feng Ruyao—the adopted twins. How laughable was it. That while her father still had her, he went on to adopt a pair of twins who he dotted on and loved more than he could ever love her. 

Rui, the older of the two, was dressed in a sleek black suit, his hair perfectly styled to match his effortless charm. He was the favored son, the one groomed to inherit the Feng empire. A master of deception who could wear any mask necessary to achieve his goals.

But it was Ruyao who drew Mian's attention.

She stood just behind her brother, draped in an emerald gown that accentuated her delicate features. She was stunning, as always. But the moment her eyes landed on Liang Zeyan, something in her expression shifted.

Fascination. Longing.

Mian could almost hear the equation forming in Ruyao's mind: Powerful. Wealthy. Untouchable.

And then, when Ruyao's gaze flickered back to Mian, admiration turned to disgust.

Mian watched her pupils constrict. The tightening of her jaw. The way her manicured nails dug into her palm.

Envy. Resentment.

It was instant, violent.

She had seen it before. The way people despised her for existing in spaces they believed she didn't deserve. But Ruyao's hatred would be different—because Ruyao wanted what Mian had just been given.

Not the arranged marriage. Not the contract.

Liang Zeyan.

Ruyao's lips curled into something that was meant to be a smile. "Sister," she said, stepping into the room, her voice laced with artificial concern. "Are you alright? What's going on?"

Mian didn't respond. There was no point. Anything she said would be twisted against her.

Instead, she observed.

Feng Rui's gaze flickered between Zeyan and their father, calculating his next move. Ruyao, on the other hand, had already made up her mind.

Her delicate fingers reached for Zeyan's sleeve. A light, testing touch. A flirtation disguised as concern.

"CEO Liang, you must be so confused by this mess." Her tone was sweet, laced with unspoken promises. "My sister… she's a bit—" She hesitated, crafting the perfect insult in real time. "Unusual."

Zeyan didn't acknowledge her.

Ruyao's smile tightened.

Feng Lian cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the situation. "CEO Liang, please don't misunderstand. There must have been a miscommunication among the staff. Mian is… not quite suited for social interactions, you see."

Mian felt Zeyan glance at her.

She hated that her father was right. She wasn't suited for this. Not for conversations laced with double meanings. Not for the way Ruyao's fingers lingered on Zeyan's sleeve, a deliberate show of possession over something that wasn't hers.

Zeyan finally moved. He took a single step forward, his presence suffocating, overwhelming. Ruyao stilled, her breath hitching in anticipation.

And then—without sparing her a glance—he extended his hand.

To Mian.

"Get up," he said. Not a request. A command.

Mian blinked up at him. She wasn't used to touch. To physical proximity. But something about Zeyan's presence was… different.

Steady. Unshaken.

She hesitated, but after a moment, she placed her hand in his.

Ruyao's nails dug into her palm, her carefully crafted expression cracking.

Mian felt the shift in the room. She almost withdrew her hand. This was strange, foreign. She didn't like this. The way her hands felt in his. The way her father's frustration simmered beneath his mask. The way Ruyao's hatred calcified into something dangerous.

And in that moment, she understood something.

This was no longer about business.

It was about power.

Her father wanted her gone. Ruyao wanted her erased. And Zeyan—

She couldn't read him yet.

But she would.

Feng Lian let out a tight breath. "Three days."

Zeyan turned his attention back to him. "Excuse me?"

"In three days, you will take her," Feng Lian said, his voice clipped. "You're a busy man, CEO Liang. Let's not drag this out. The sooner you marry her, the better."

Mian's fingers twitched in Zeyan's grip.

Three days.

Her father had spent her whole life pretending she didn't exist. And now, he was handing her off like she was a problem to be discarded.

She should have been relieved.

So why did it feel like she was walking into a different kind of trap?

Zeyan's grip on her hand tightened slightly. Just enough to ground her.

His voice was calm when he finally responded.

"Fine."

Feng Lian looked triumphant. Ruyao looked murderous. Rui looked mildly entertained.

And Mian?

She looked at Liang Zeyan and knew one thing for certain.

This was just the beginning.