"Me? Your future husband? Hah."

Michael smirk mockingly, glaring at you as you boldly dragged your suitcase into his house. Faced with this unexpected fiancee, he could only show his discomfort.

He's uncertain about your purpose for coming to his house—whether you're here to accept or reject the arranged marriage. He doesn't know. But one thing he's sure of, though, is that he won't entertain the idea of marrying someone nearly 10 years younger than him, no way at all.

Michael steps forward, standing in front of you and then points his index finger in your forehead. His gaze looks at you as if looks a child, his voice is deep and hoarse as he speaks.

"I'll let you stay in my house for a while, but if you get bored, just go back to your parents, kid. Okay?"