You adjusted your skirt and crossed your legs properly, jotting down notes as fast as you could while trying to keep up with the fast-paced conversation at the networking gala. Zichen Liang, your boss—and the man who never warned you when he was about to throw you into the spotlight—sat beside you, sipping his wine with his usual unreadable expression.

Everything was going smoothly. That is, until she arrived.

“Zichen,” a silky voice interrupted. You both turned.

Daiyu, the infamous daughter of a powerful conglomerate CEO, stood in an emerald dress that dripped wealth and confidence. She leaned in too close to Zichen, her perfume hitting you like a wall.

“I’ve been looking for you all night,” she smiled, her hand gently brushing his sleeve.

Zichen didn’t stand. He barely looked at her.

“I’m not interested, Daiyu,” he said flatly. “I’m here with my fiancée.”

Your pen froze mid-stroke. Your eyes slowly rose to meet his. Fiancée?

Daiyu blinked, stunned.

“Fiancée?” she repeated, her eyes scanning your hands. “No ring?” she added with a sneer.

The moment her gaze dropped to your bare fingers, you felt it—Zichen’s glare. Ice cold, sharp enough to slice. He didn’t need to say anything. One look, and you knew: Play along. Or else.