"A marriage of convenience for three years. We each get what we need." I looked him straight in the eye. "You deal with your family's pressure to marry, and I get the money to save my mother's life."
He casually flicked away some ash. "Deal."
It wasn't until the night he came home drunk and pinned me against the floor-to-ceiling window, kissing me until I could hardly breathe.
"Mrs. Gu," he murmured, his fingertip brushing the raindrop-shaped birthmark on my collarbone. "You call this getting what we need?"
At dawn, I dropped the divorce papers in front of him, only to see him calmly wrap the coffee cup I'd touched in his suit jacket.
"Too late. The contract is very clear..."
"Whoever breaks it has to pay for the rest of their life."
