Thirty Million for Ending Our Three-Year Fake Marriage

Su Qingya didn't come home again.

That made fifteen times this month.

I stared at the empty villa, looking at the cold message she'd sent me: [I have a work dinner tonight. Don't wait up.]

After three years of a fake marriage, I thought I'd gotten used to it.

That was until today, when I found a hotel key card in her bag.

My name is Jiang Beicheng, and I'm twenty-eight. Three years ago, I saved Su Qingya from jumping off a building. That night, she begged me through tears to marry her in name only, saying it was to escape an arranged marriage. I agreed. Looking back now, I was such an idiot.

"Jiang Beicheng, tomorrow..."