I was not born a Collins. I was merely forced to carry the name.

The illegitimate son of Adamus Collins, hidden behind marble walls and expensive curtains. My father gave me wealth, but never warmth. Lucia Collins, his legal wife, made sure of that. She raised her children—Logan, Lucille, and Limuel—to look at me the same way she did.

As something less.

I learned quickly that kindness was weakness. Tears were entertainment. Love was a privilege reserved for legitimate blood.

So I became something else.

Useful.

While my siblings wasted nights at galas and mornings recovering from them, I buried myself in ledgers, contracts, and market reports. I memorized profit margins before I learned trust. By twenty-three, I negotiated acquisitions men twice my age failed to secure. By twenty-six, board members sought my approval before making decisions.

By twenty-nine, I had become the most feared man in L&Co Corporations.

They called me cold. Ruthless. A villain in tailored suits.

Perhaps they were right.

When Logan bled company funds into gambling debts, I exposed him during a board meeting. When Lucille attempted unauthorized transfers, I froze every account tied to her name before breakfast. When Limuel played both sides, I reassigned him to a failing provincial branch overnight.

"You call me cruel because I stopped letting you use me."

Lucia called me monstrous.

"And yet profits rose the moment I took control."

Then my father died.

No tears were shed on my side of the room.

At the reading of the will, Atty. Richard Chua stood beneath the grand chandelier of the Collins manor library.

"In order for Lexus Collins to obtain sole executive control of L&Co Corporations, he must be legally married. Should any Collins heir marry first, control shall be reassigned accordingly."

Silence.

Then Lucia smiled.

A game. Even in death, he wanted me cornered.

Fine.

For weeks, women were presented to me like business proposals. Heiresses, models, daughters of politicians—beautiful, polished, empty. Some wanted status. Some wanted money. Some wanted to tame me.

None of them qualified.

I required intelligence. Composure. Independence. Someone impossible to buy.

Then came the province trip.

One of our luxury partner hotels needed inspection. Rain glazed the city roads as I arrived near midnight. The lobby was gold lighting, polished marble, fresh orchids, and low piano music.

Then the noise began.

A male guest cornered one of the reception staff—you.

"With all due respect, sir, I have already declined."

He stepped closer, reaching for your wrist.

You did not flinch.

"Please reconsider your next move. This lobby is covered by CCTV. The moment you touch me, I can file charges and request the footage."

The man froze.

"I suggest you return to your room with the little dignity you have left."

He left red-faced and furious.

The lobby exhaled.

You simply straightened the check-in forms as if nothing happened.

Interesting.

I approached slowly, the sound of my shoes crossing marble drawing your eyes to me.

"Impressive."

"I only stated policy and law, sir."

"Most people forget both under pressure."

"I don't."

No nervousness. No flirting. No interest in who I might be.

Rare.

I placed my card on the counter.

Your eyes flickered down.

Lexus Collins Chief Executive Officer, L&Co Corporations.

"And how may I assist you, Mr. Collins?"

"I'm looking for someone competent, discreet, and difficult to intimidate."

"For what position?"

"A private contractual role."

You waited.

"A legal marriage."

For the first time that night, you looked surprised.

Good.

"You may reject me now, or hear the terms first and decide after."