Chapter 3
“Upset?” Aaron’s voice was calm. “Go ahead, take a minute.But remember—backing out now comes with a price tag you can’t afford.”
Kinsley sniffled, fighting to keep her voice steady.
“I know.”
She remembered the penalty fee clearly; it was a figure she could never hope to afford.
Besides, she had already transferred the payment to her mother to ensure her treatment could continue without delay.
She locked eyes with him.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
She picked up her veil and pinned it back into place.
“So, where to next?”
“We’re already home. Where else would we go?”
“Home?”
She scanned the manicured courtyard and the sprawling luxury of the villa, then looked back at him. The weight of it finally settled in—this wasn’t just another low-budget set.
This was real.
“I should probably head back to my place,” she murmured. “I’ll pack and be back first thing tomorrow. That works for you, right?”
He let out a cold, sharp laugh.
“My bride disappearing on our wedding night? I’m not in the mood for a PR nightmare.”
Without another word, he turned and headed toward the house.
He’s impossible to please.
Tugging at her heavy skirts, Kinsley trailed behind him, swallowing her frustration.
He’s the employer. This is work. Just endure it.
The moment she stepped into the upstairs suite, she froze.
A floor-to-ceiling glass wall turned the moonlit garden into a living masterpiece.
There was warm, ambient lighting, and an oversized bed…
It was the master bedroom！
Her feet felt rooted to the floor, leaving her with nowhere to go and no way out.
“What are you standing there for? This is where you’ll be staying.”
Aaron yanked his tie loose and shed his bespoke suit jacket.
Kinsley stepped inside slowly, her gaze fixed on the bed.
“But there’s only one bedhere…”
The words were barely out of her mouth before she wished she could swallow them.
Her face began to burn.
Aaron stepped toward her, his gaze chilling.
“You knew what you were signing up for.”
“I did.”
He acted as if he hadn’t heard a word and disappeared into the walk-in closet.
Emerging a moment later, he held his loungewear in hand, chest bare.
The sudden sight of his broad shoulders and hard muscle hit her like a physical force, making her heart skip a beat.
“Get out of that gown. Dinner’s downstairs in tenminutes.”
She stared, almost forgetting to look away. It took a while before she could snap her gaze back to safety.
“I don’t have any of my clothes here.”
Aaron walked toward her, looking down at her from his towering height.
She lowered her eyes, only to have her vision filled by the defined lines of his abs.
“The essentials are already in place,”he said, “The rest will be arriving in waves.”
“Okay,” she whispered, her breathing shallow.
This job... might not be as difficult as I thought...
Aaron tilted her face up, his thumb—rough and calloused—brushing lightly against her cheek.
“Nervous? Or scared?”
“Neither.”
She avoided his gaze.
He let go, his voice laced with a touch of frost.
“I’m not interested in being a tabloid scandal for infidelity. but don’t expect me to play the celibate monk for the sake of this charade.
“I understand.”
“I don’t do ‘forced.’ If I wanted a warm body in my bed, I’d have a line out the door from here to Paris. I’m patient, Kinsley—but I have my limits.”
“Alright...”
His gaze pinned her, as if he were reading every thought inside her head.
Then, he took two steps back. The crushing pressure finally lifted, and she let out a quiet breath.
High salaries truly don’t come easy.
“Relax. It’s a six-month deal. Play your part well, and the time will fly by.”
--
Late that night, the bedroom lights were extinguished. Moonlight flooded through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Kinsley pressed herself against the very edge of the mattress—the furthest possible distance she could put between them.
Aaron watched the silhouette of her curves in the dim light, his thoughts drifting back to the afternoon.
He had spent the entire morning locked in meetings, enduring endless, circular arguments that had left him agitated.
He drove to a small café, desperate to clear his head and escape the suffocating weight of his duties.
Outside, the sun was bright.
A film crew was shooting a micro-drama on the street corner.
The actress was beautiful, though her talent was raw.
Over and over, the director barked “Cut!“, each time unleashing a fresh barrage of insults at her.
She didn’t fight back.
She simply stood her ground and adjusted her stance.
Once. Twice. Again.
For a split second, her lashes fluttered, as if she were on the verge of breaking.
Aaron raised his cup, but his eyes locked on her.
He watched as she stood there, waiting, until the director shouted “Ready!”—and the mask of the professional clicked back into place.
Only then did he finally bring the cup to his lips.
His phone vibrated.
Albert’s name flashed on the screen—his lawyer and closest friend.
“Where the hell are you?” Albert’s voice was frantic.
“Taking a breather. Tell me the filing is done.”
“We’ve got a problem,” Albert lowered his voice. “Your father’s will has two conditions for you to claim the Chairman seat. First, you have to be twenty-eight. You hit that milestone a last week.”
Aaron sat up straight.
“And the second?”
“You have to be a married man.”
“Are you kidding me?” Aaron’s grip tightened on the phone. “Why wasn’t I told?”
“I only took over the file recently,” Albert whispered. “You know how it works—the second your father’s heart stopped, the vultures started circling your uncle.”
His tone turned deadly serious.
“You need to get married, Aaron. Now. I hear your cousin Ethan is planning to turn his birthday party next month into a media-circus wedding.”
He paused.
“Even though he doesn’t even have a steady girlfriend.”
Aaron’s gaze turned cold as he looked into the distance.
“Thanks, Albert. I’ve got it.”
“You only have two weeks…”
The call ended before Albert could finish his sentence.
Aaron grabbed his suit jacket and stepped out of the café.
The crew had already wrapped; the street corner was empty except for the girl.
She was on her phone, her shoulders slumping as the conversation went on.
Aaron approached her, driven by a clear objective, yet wary of the gamble he was about to take.
He saw the girl catch a passing colleague by the arm.
“Chris, are there any other gigs?” her voice was urgent, desperate. “I need the money.”
“There’s a shoot casting for ’mature’content. The pay is double.”
The light in her eyes died instantly.
“No. No, thank you.”
“You sure? It’s fast cash.”
“I’ll... I’ll wait for the next one.”
She sank onto the curb, clutching her hair.
Tears pooled in her eyes, but she was too stubborn to let them fall.
Aaron stepped closer, offering her a tissue.
“Rough day?”
She took it.
Beneath her damp lashes, her eyes shimmered like gemstones.
Aaron looked away, a fraction of a second slower than he had intended.
In the café, the soft music and the scent of coffee seemed to loosen Kinsley’s guard.
After a brief conversation, Aaron’s suspicions were confirmed:
She needed money, even if she wouldn’t say the words aloud.
For a moment, he’d thought he was insane—plucking a stranger off the street to finalize a massive power transition.
But with the clock ticking, he didn’t have a choice.
Marrying a socialite from his own circle would involve too many strings, too many hidden agendas.
This girl’s simple. She’s compliant.
No hidden agendas, no messy family ties.
She’s the solution.
Aaron could tell she wouldn’t be a liability, nor would she try to leverage him for more.
As long as he used the legal contract to mitigate risk—strictly defining what she could and couldn’t do—it would work.
He’d set the term for six months.
He could secure his seat, and they wouldn’t have to tolerate each other for long.
It’s the perfect transaction.
Aaron had always excelled at making decisions.
He ran through the details in his mind, then instructed his assistant to draft the contract.
As for her?
She would receive a massive payout, a respectable title, and six months of luxury.
It was a golden ticket. There was no way she’d walk away from a deal this sweet.
--
On the drive to his office to “verify” the terms, Kinsley cracked the window open.
She stared out at the passing city, lost in thought.
With the wind catching her hair, her profile held a trace of haunting melancholy.
Aaron found himself drifting, his gaze lingering on her for a beat too long.
The world outside the car seemed to blur until a sharp, frustrated honk shattered the silence, snapping him back to reality.
--
Late at night.
Kinsley’s breathing was steady; she seemed to be asleep.
Aaron’s gaze remained fixed on her blurred silhouette in the darkness.
Tomorrow, he would begin the formal process of the power transition. It was going to be a grueling day.
He should sleep, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes.
She was so tense, huddled on the far edge of the mattress, that even he felt his muscles grow sore and tiredin that gesture.
He reached out, intending to pull her closer, but his hand froze in mid-air.
Let her be. He had enough patience.
Six months...
Itpricked at his conscience like a needle.
A faint sensation, but one that refused to be ignored.
He told himself repeatedly that this was all a charade.
Once the six months were up, everything wouldreturn to the status quo.