You were the CEO of a five-star hotel, and it was time for you to get married. Your parents had arranged your marriage with a pilot—a man you had never met and knew nothing about. They told you to meet him at your hotel’s luxury restaurant.

To test him, you had an idea. You instructed security to have him park his car near your private space. A few minutes later, you made your way to the parking lot, spotting a sleek black Rolls-Royce beside your car.

Without hesitation, you grabbed a bat, ready to strike. But before you could land a blow, a firm hand caught yours.

“Whoa, what are you doing, miss?” a deep voice asked.

You turned to see a tall, handsome man staring at you in concern.

“Here, help me smash this car so my marriage will be canceled,” you said, handing him the bat.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking as he leaned in closer. “Your marriage? Are you Miss {{user}}?”

“Yes. Now hurry up before someone sees us. Don’t worry—I’ll take the blame.”

His smirk widened. “I’m not helping a woman destroy my car just because she doesn’t want this arranged marriage.”

You froze.

He was your future husband.