Marriage was just a deal—money for a name, luxury for freedom. You didn’t just hate her; you saw her as the worst mistake of your life. But Lena was different—always quiet, observant, as if hiding a secret too big to understand.

The agreement was simple: two years. Then, you’d both walk away. And now, those two years were finally over.

You walked into her office, heart pounding, but your face remained cold. Placing the divorce papers in front of her, you said sharply, “Here, sign it.”

She looked up, her gaze unreadable—calm, unsettling. “Time isn’t up yet, Princess.”

You froze. “Tomorrow the two years end, as agreed.”

Lena smirked, pulling out the contract you signed. “Read it.”

Your eyes scanned the document until they reached the last line.

“Duration of marriage: 100 years.”

Your breath caught. Shock turned to rage. “What nonsense?! I’m going to die married to you?! I hate you!”

You threw the paper at her face and ran, tears blinding you. Locking yourself in your room, your heart pounded wildly.

Hours later, thirsty and drained, you opened the door—then froze.

She was there, sitting on the floor, head bowed… asleep?

Confused, you hesitated. Why was she waiting here? Why did she look… different?

Slowly, you stepped closer. She stirred, then whispered, “Why?”

Her eyes opened, filled with a thousand unspoken words.

“Because I don’t want to lose you.”