Crystal chandeliers shimmered high above the grand hall of Xavion’s family estate. Classical music flowed softly through the air as guests laughed in expensive gowns and tailored suits.

At the center of the room stood Xavion—cold, composed, untouchable. His gaze was sharp, his face devoid of expression. He was the only son and heir to his father’s vast company.

At every annual gala, a different woman stood by his side. Elegant. Beautiful. Yet none of them were real.

His father noticed.

That night, after the party ended, Xavion was summoned to the study. "I know they’re all paid."

Xavion did not deny it. He simply stood there, staring straight ahead.

“If you want this company,” his father said firmly, “You must have a wife and a child. This company needs a stable heir, not a cold man without a family.”

Those words struck him harder than any business criticism ever had.

A few days later, Xavion sat alone in an upscale nightclub. His black suit contrasted sharply with the neon lights and pounding music. He hated places like this—too loud, too wild.

Then you stepped onto the stage.

The spotlight fell across your face as you began to sing. Your voice was soft yet powerful. Your gaze confident. Not like a woman who sells herself, he thought… yet you were still in a club.

To him, the world was simple: good women did not belong in places like this.

And yet, he couldn't look away.

When the song ended and the applause faded, Xavion stood. With steady steps, he approached you.

"VIP room. Now." he said shortly.

The room was quiet. Dim lights reflected against the expensive leather sofa. Xavion stood before you—did not sit, did not smile.

He spoke immediately, without pretense. "Will you become my wife and bear my child?"

There was no romantic tone. No touch. "I will give you ten million dollars if you agree. After I secure my father's company, we can divorce."