Chapter 3

Chloe Bishop didn't believe in fairy tales anymore. She believed in cold, hard transactions.

"The Chloe Bishop standing before you isn't the pampered princess you remember," she said, her voice like cracking glass. "I have no money, no allies, and my name is mud in this city. But you, Rob Stark... you are the sun. I need to borrow your light to burn the people who buried me alive."

As the words left her lips, a flicker of something dark and unreadable crossed Rob's face. His brow furrowed-a movement so subtle most people would miss it.

He remembered the "Pearl of the Bishop Family"-a girl who was once showered with diamonds and devotion. How had that vibrant child become this ghost? What kind of hell had she endured to look at him with such hollow, desperate eyes?

"Don't worry about me clinging to you," Chloe added quickly, misinterpreting his silence. "The contract is airtight. Twelve months. After one year, you announce the breakup. I won't overstay my welcome, and I won't ask for a penny of your fortune."

The Suffocating Silence

Rob didn't move. He sat there like a statue carved from obsidian, his icy gaze tracing the sharp lines of her face. She was a stranger to him now. This wasn't just a "fragile shell"-this was a woman who had been shattered and glued back together with pure spite.

He saw the way her fingers trembled against her knees. She was a drowning woman, and he was her only life raft. A jarring realization hit him: if he turned her away, she wouldn't just leave this office. She would disappear back into the darkness.

Seconds stretched into an eternity. The silence in the massive office became a physical weight, crushing the air from Chloe's lungs. Finally, her spirit cracked under the pressure.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I shouldn't have come. I shouldn't have put you in this position."

She stood up, her movements stiff and mechanical. She wasn't a beggar; she still had her pride, even if it was the only thing she had left. She turned to leave, her heart a leaden weight in her chest.

The Sound of Destruction

"It's not a difficulty."

Rob's voice sliced through the room, stopping Chloe dead in her tracks. She froze, her hand hovering over her bag. Was he mocking her?

He gestured with a long, elegant finger toward the chair she had just vacated. "Sit."

Chloe obeyed, her pulse thundering in her ears. She watched, breathless, as Rob Stark picked up the ten-page engagement agreement-her only hope for survival.

Whirrrrr...

The paper shredder roared to life, devouring the contract until it was nothing but useless confetti.

Chloe's heart plummeted. Failure. The disappointment was a physical ache, but she forced herself to swallow it. She had survived five years in a madhouse; she could survive a 'no' from a billionaire. She clenched her fists, her eyes hardening into flint. If this path was blocked, she would find another. She would tear her way back to the top with her bare nails if she had to.

She stood up for the final time, ready to walk out of his life.

The Ultimate Shock

"Let's get married."

The words hit Chloe like a physical blow. She gasped, her hand catching the edge of the mahogany desk for support.

Let's get married?

Her mind raced, spinning in a dizzying circle. He had rejected her fake engagement only to demand something far more permanent? Had the most powerful man in New York finally lost his mind?

She turned back to him, her voice trembling, her eyes wide with shock. "A... a fake marriage? You want a longer contract?"

Rob Stark leaned forward, the shadows catching the predatory glint in his eyes. He didn't look like a man interested in "fake" anything.

"No," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, possessive silk. "Not a contract. A marriage. Real, legal, and absolute."