I never imagined I'd be invited to a dinner with the city's most powerful elite let alone attend one on the arm of Wu Zihan.
But here I was, standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror in a designer gown I could never afford on my own, hair swept up in soft curls, lips painted in a red so bold it scared me.
Fake wife. Real nerves.
"You look like someone about to walk into war," Zihan said from behind me, adjusting his cufflinks.
"Isn't that what this is?"
He gave a rare smile. "You're not wrong."
Tonight's dinner was hosted by the Liang family — yes, that Liang family. The same one whose only daughter, Liang Yunmei, happened to be the elegant, ruthless woman my fake husband's parents wished he'd marry.
No pressure.
The limousine ride was quiet, but not tense. It was becoming something of a ritual — this silence before the storm. Zihan sat beside me, unreadable as ever, but his hand rested on the seat between us not touching mine. Just… near.
"I won't let them corner you," he said suddenly.
I turned to look at him. "That's generous of you."
"It's strategic," he corrected.
I let the silence answer for me.
But a tiny part of me — the part that remembered him bringing me noodles, the part that noticed how he always stood a little closer when I was around other men wondered if he was lying.
The Liang estate was extravagant. Not just rich — dynastic with marbled floors, crystal chandeliers, and staff who bowed like clockwork.
Liang Yunmei greeted us at the door. She looked like perfection incarnate with tailored silk dress, flawless makeup, and a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Zihan," she purred. "And… your wife. What a surprise."
"I hope it's a pleasant one," I said, offering a graceful nod.
Her eyes flickered. "We'll see."
Dinner was a parade of power plays disguised as small talk. Every word was a test, every smile a weapon. I sat beside Zihan at the long glass table, surrounded by CEOs, investors, and families who ran this city like it was their personal chessboard and I was the newest pawn.
"So, Mrs. Wu," one of the older men asked, swirling his wine, "tell us, what exactly do you bring to the Wu family?"
The table went quiet.
I smiled politely. "Fresh blood, apparently."
A few people chuckled. Most didn't.
"She was top of her class in university," Zihan said flatly, without even looking up. "And she speaks three languages fluently."
He didn't need to defend me but he did and just like that, the room took another look at me. A sharper, more calculating one.
Game on.
Midway through the evening, Yunmei asked to "steal me away for a moment." I knew better than to decline.
She led me to a private lounge with dark walls and soft lighting. No staff, no cameras just us.
She turned, arms crossed. "Let's be honest with each other."
"By all means," I said.
"You don't belong here."
"Maybe not," I admitted. "But I'm here anyway."
She studied me. "Why him? You could've found someone else to play pretend with. Why my Zihan?"
Your Zihan?
I tilted my head. "He wasn't taken."
"Not officially," she said sharply. "But we were—"
"Going to be arranged," I finished. "Like a merger."
She took a step closer. "He's mine, Li Xue. He always has been."
I looked her dead in the eye. "Then why hasn't he chosen you?"
That silenced her but only for a second.
"Enjoy the spotlight while it lasts," she said coldly. "Because if I find out you're after more than just his name, I'll ruin you. No one will believe the girl from nowhere over a Liang."
She walked out, leaving the door open behind her.
I stood still, chest rising and falling.
Because I wasn't after more. At least… I didn't think I was.
When I returned to the dining hall, Zihan's eyes found mine immediately.
He didn't ask what happened.
He didn't need to.
Instead, as we stood to leave, he slipped his hand into mine in front of everyone. His fingers curled gently around mine, and for one breathless moment, it felt like the act wasn't for them.
It was for me.
Back at the penthouse, I pulled off my earrings and set them on the vanity. My reflection stared back at me tired, polished, and oddly proud.
"You handled that better than I expected," Zihan said, walking in behind me.
"Is that another compliment?" I teased.
"Don't get used to it."
I turned to face him. "Why didn't you tell me your family wanted you to marry her?"
He hesitated. "Because I didn't care."
"But she clearly does."
He exhaled slowly. "Liang Yunmei is dangerous and not because she's jealous but because she has something to lose."
"And I don't?"
His eyes locked on mine. "Do you?"
For a moment, I didn't answer.
Then, softly, "I think I might."
The air between us shifted. He took one step closer. I could feel the heat coming off him — a subtle gravity that made it hard to breathe.
But then, he pulled back.
"Goodnight, Li Xue."
And just like that, the moment was over.
Later that night, I lay awake in the master bed, staring at the ceiling, his soft breathing steady beside me.
What was I doing?
Why did his presence calm me?
Why did his approval feel like oxygen?
I had agreed to a fake marriage, a transaction but real feelings don't play by contract rules.
And I was starting to fear that I was falling for my husband.