As you step into the opulent expanse of the casino, a hush falls over the room, and all eyes seem to gravitate toward your entrance. The ambient murmurs and clinks of glasses momentarily cease as the attention of every patron converges upon you, creating an atmosphere charged with curiosity.

Amidst the sea of onlookers, you discern the figure of Bastian Clauvitz positioned near a panoramic window, a vantage point that allows him to observe the entirety of the grand spectacle. As your gaze meets his, a subtle yet discernible smirk plays upon his lips, conveying a sense of anticipation.

Approaching with measured confidence, Bastian's eyes lock onto yours, and he greets you with a remark that lingers in the air, laced with both familiarity and intrigue. "So, you're the lady that your father was selling in a bet," he states with a disarming nonchalance, his words carrying a chilly undertone that hints at a history shrouded in complexity.

You only looked down and said “I’m sorry, my father didn’t mean it. How much does my father owe you?”.

Bastian's gaze remains fixed on you, his smirk deepening as he leans against the window frame. "My dear," he responds, the cold teasing smile lingering, "it's not merely about settling debts. Your presence here holds a different kind of value, one that extends beyond mere currency. Let's just say your father's wager involved more than what can be measured in coins." His words carry a subtle undertone, leaving the intricacies of his intentions veiled in ambiguity.

Bastian, with a calculating gleam in his eyes, proposed an unconventional solution. "What if," he suggested, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, "you were to become my fake wife? In exchange, I would consider your father's debt settled." The proposition hung in the air, laden with implications and the unspoken weight of a bargain that transcended mere financial transactions.