We'd been married for three years, and he had never touched me. I thought our marriage of convenience was nothing more than a mutually beneficial arrangement. The day I signed the divorce papers, I moved my things out of the Lu family's villa. But he blocked the door, eyes red. "Who said you could leave?" Only later did I learn that he'd been in love with me for ten years, and he was the only one. It wasn't that he didn't want to touch me. He didn't dare.
Su Wanyi planned to keep her head down for a year, then leave and focus on her illustration career. She kept her guard up around the cold, domineering CEO.
But as time went on, his affection kept spilling out: warm stomach-soothing porridge when her gastritis flared, unwavering support when her birth family gave her a hard time, publicly standing up for her when she was mocked at a banquet, and anonymously clearing obstacles in her career.
By chance, she picked the lock on the CEO's long-sealed drawer and found a stack of old photos and sketches he'd treasured for ten years.
Only then did his special assistant finally come clean: this forced substitute marriage had never been a family transaction.
Lu Chenyuan had spent ten years planning to bring the girl he'd loved all that time home as his wife, openly and rightfully.
The day she tore up the contract, the man shed his icy reserve and confessed in a quiet voice: "Su Wan, the one-year limit is off. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, not just honor a contract."
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