Liang Ruoxi stood in the cold marble lobby of Mo Corporation, the towering headquarters of the man she intended to make her temporary husband. Her heels clicked crisply against the floor as she walked toward the private elevator, watched by curious secretaries and guarded security.
She was used to the stares by now. But today, she didn't shrink under them.
She wore a sleek black dress that hugged her curves like confidence incarnate. Her long hair was pulled into a low ponytail. Her lips? Crimson war paint.
She wasn't here to impress.
She was here to seal a deal with the devil.
The elevator door opened. A suited assistant waited inside. "Miss Liang, President Mo is expecting you."
The ride up to the top floor was eerily silent, the soft hum of the elevator masking her rapid heartbeat. She wasn't nervous. No. Not nervous. Just... aware.
Because once she entered Mo Zeyan's world, there would be no turning back.
The office was massive — all glass, steel, and shadows. Behind a desk of obsidian black sat the man himself.
Mo Zeyan.
Tall, immaculately dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, eyes like winter frost locked onto her the moment she stepped inside. He didn't stand. Didn't offer a greeting. Just studied her like a lion observing a curious gazelle that had wandered into his den.
"Miss Liang," he said finally. "You're punctual."
"I don't like wasting time," she replied, meeting his gaze without flinching.
"Then let's not waste mine," he said, motioning to the chair across from him. "You proposed a contract marriage last night. Bold. Desperate. Intriguing. But I don't work with people who beg."
"I didn't beg," Ruoxi replied smoothly. "I offered a deal."
Zeyan leaned back in his chair. "And why should I tie myself to a spoiled heiress whose family I despise?"
"Because I'm no longer one of them," she said.
She placed a folder on his desk. "These are internal audit records from the Liang Group. Hidden offshore accounts. Unreported bribes. Board-level betrayal. All compiled quietly over the past three years—by me."
He raised an eyebrow. "Interesting bedtime reading."
"Consider it a sample," she said. "I have more. Information that can dismantle their network from the inside out."
Zeyan flipped through the pages, and for the first time, something flickered in his eyes.
Satisfaction.
"And what do you want in return?" he asked.
"Protection," Ruoxi said. "Public affiliation with your name. Enough to keep the Liang family from retaliating while I burn their empire to ash."
He closed the folder, steepling his fingers. "And the price?"
She hesitated, just for a breath. "A one-year contract marriage. Strictly business. No intimacy. No expectations."
Mo Zeyan laughed. It was a dark, smooth sound that echoed through the glass office like thunder before a storm.
"You think you can make deals with me and set terms?"
Ruoxi stood her ground. "You're not the only one with leverage, President Mo. If I go public with this," she tapped the folder, "your enemies will trace the source. I become a target. They'll come after me. And if I fall… your evidence falls with me."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Zeyan stood.
He was taller than she remembered from the press and business photos. His presence filled the room with a heavy, commanding pressure. He walked around the desk slowly, his gaze sweeping over her with unsettling precision.
"And if I say yes?" he murmured. "If I agree to this sham marriage, what do I get beyond information?"
Ruoxi met his eyes. "I become your shield. Your insider. And your weapon."
Their eyes locked.
He stepped closer. So close she could smell his cologne—something cold, clean, and dangerously male.
"Most women would kill for a chance to be in my bed," he said. "Yet here you are, practically running from it."
Ruoxi's voice didn't waver. "I'm not most women."
A tense pause.
Then, he smiled.
It wasn't warm. It wasn't kind.
It was lethal.
"Good," he said. "Because I'm not most men."
He walked to the window, looking out over the city skyline. "You'll move into my residence tonight. We'll have a joint statement prepared by noon. Our engagement will go public by tomorrow morning."
Ruoxi blinked. "That fast?"
"You wanted protection. That means appearances. You'll play the role of my fiancée until the wedding ceremony, which will take place within 30 days."
Her pulse skipped. "You already planned this."
"I always plan ahead."
He turned back to her.
"But remember this, Miss Liang—once you step into my world, there is no escape clause. If you betray me, if you cross me, not even your ashes will remain."
"I could say the same to you," she said softly.
Another long pause.
Then, unexpectedly, he held out his hand.
She took it.
The deal was sealed.
Not with affection.
But with fire.
That night…
As her taxi pulled up in front of Mo Zeyan's private estate, Ruoxi stared at the mansion looming ahead. Black gates. Stone lions. Lights glowing through long corridors.
Her old life had ended at the altar.
This one began at the gates of a man far more dangerous than her ex-fiancé ever was.
She stepped out, gripping her suitcase.
The butler was already waiting. "Welcome to your new home, Miss Liang."
She stepped through the threshold.
Unaware that somewhere within these walls… her fate was already entwining with secrets far beyond her revenge.