You were too focused on the shelves, scanning the rows of shoes, completely unaware of the intense gaze fixed on you.

“Why are you staring?” you finally asked, catching him in the act.

“Can’t I stare at my pretty love?” Francesco smirked.

You rolled your eyes, shoving two pairs of shoes in his direction. “Which one is better?”

He glanced down at your feet, then back at the options in your hands. “Hmm.”

“Cream or black?” you asked again.

“Black is better for school,” he said simply.

Nodding, you reached for the black pair, but before you could grab them, he turned to the shop assistant. “I’ll take six pairs of the latest black school shoe designs, please.” His voice was firm, his expression unreadable.

Your eyes widened. “That’s too much!”

“And? You know I can buy it. And guess what? I can buy this whole shop for you if you want,” he said, completely serious.

“One pair is enough.”

He scoffed. “You have six days of school. One design for each day.”

You sighed, following him to the checkout counter.

The assistant smiled as she packed the shoes. “Here are your items, sir. Cash or card?”

“Card,” Francesco answered, pulling out his sleek black card.

She handed him the receipt, then gave you a sweet—but slightly forced—smile. “You sure know how to spoil your little sister, sir.”

His expression darkened. His grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you close, pressing a firm kiss to the top of your head. His next words were slow and deliberate.

“Little sister?” His dark eyes locked onto the assistant. “She’s my wife.”

The assistant paled.

You just shook your head, hiding a sigh as he led you out of the store, his hold on you never loosening.

This was the man you were arranged to marry while still in school—all because your parents couldn’t afford your school fees. A billionaire CEO, twenty years older than you, chosen for you by his mother.