To fend off pressure to get married, I signed a one-year secret marriage agreement with Qin Mo, a rising star in the tech world.
When the agreement expired, I handed him the divorce papers. “Mr. Qin, it's been a pleasure working with you.”
But he tore them up in front of everyone and pinned me against the wall, his voice hoarse:
“For seven years, I've carefully planned every step just to get close to you.”
“You think you can run now? Too late.”
Only later did I learn that every “lucky coincidence” in my life had been part of his long-laid plan.
