The Client Just Has to Chase His Wife

The day I was laid off, I signed a marriage contract worth five million a year.

The other party was the president of the Fu Group, notorious for having no interest in women.

His demands were simple: behave yourself and be a good Mrs. Fu.

Mine were just as simple: as long as the money comes through.

I turned being a wife into project management:

Weekly plans, monthly reports, KPI reviews. I kept up with every last one.

When he gave me gifts, I logged them in the “Client Gift Register.”

When he came home late, I put on a face mask and watched variety shows without even turning my head.

Then the contract expired, and I took the money, ready to run off and open a cat cafe.

The aloof man who had always kept his distance blocked the doorway, his eyes red.

“The contract is void. We’re signing a new one now: a contract with no end date.”

“The client and the contractor can only be you and me.”