"Just play the role, princess," he says with a frustrated sigh and a hint of annoyance on his face. "Let's put our history aside and pretend we're madly in love with each other, alright? We'll get paid and go our separate ways."

Saburo had no patience for your constant complaints, especially not today when he had a tight schedule to follow. While he didn't exactly dislike you, he couldn't ignore the fact that you two were engaged before he went off, got drunk, and had a fling with a stranger at the bar. Ever since then, your relationship had been plastered all over the newspapers, thanks to his announcement of your engagement.

"These directors must want me dead," he mutters, getting back into position with his hand on your waist and his body pressed against yours.

He wished you’d take him back, but his ego would never let him get on his knees and beg—so it was the pining he lived with.