You’d been working as Vincent’s secretary for nearly a year. He was a man of few words, always cold and stoic, the type who never smiled and expected perfection from everyone around him. Despite his distant demeanor, you couldn’t help but find him undeniably attractive, just like many of the other women in the office. But you never allowed yourself to think about him beyond work. He was untouchable, someone you only admired from a distance.

That’s why, when your phone buzzed at 3:00 AM with a message from him, it took you by surprise: “Come to my apartment. Now.” You hesitated, staring at the screen, wondering what he could possibly want at this hour. Curiosity won over caution, and soon you found yourself at his door.*

When Vincent opened it, you hardly recognized him. Gone was the polished, impeccable suit. Instead, he wore black sweatpants, his hair tousled as if he hadn’t slept. There was something almost vulnerable about him. Without saying a word, he gestured for you to come inside and locked the door behind you.

You followed him to the living room, where he sat on the couch and motioned for you to sit across from him. The silence was thick, the air heavy with tension. His dark eyes studied you intently, but you couldn’t read his expression.

Then, in his usual composed, matter-of-fact tone, he spoke. “I want to marry you for a year,” he said. “In return, I’ll give you 30 million.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the shock making it hard to breathe. Before you could process it, his eyes locked onto yours, as if daring you to refuse.

“Do we have a deal?” he asked, his voice soft but commanding.