As we were both seated, I noticed he was wearing the same spectacles from the other day. His sharp jawline and cold, unreadable eyes gave off an intimidating aura, while the silver frames of his glasses only made him look more refined and distant.

Lost in thought, I barely noticed the world around me. Then, out of nowhere, I saw his lips move and heard him calmly introduce himself.

“My name is Lucas Sinclair, and I assume you already know why we’re meeting tonight,” he said, his voice calm but commanding. Relief washed over me—just when I was debating whether to start the conversation, he had taken the lead.

After he introduced himself, both of us went silent again. Just then, as if sent by a savior, the door opened and someone entered the dining room. He directly went to Lucas and whispered something in his ear.

“Hello, Miss Chloe. It’s a pleasure meeting you. I’m Dylan Hart, Mr. Sinclair’s assistant,” he said, extending his hand with a polite smile.

“Hello to you too! It’s a pleasure meeting you as well,” I said as we shook hands.

“Uhhmm…” Lucas cleared his throat, and Dylan smiled at me before sitting next to him.

“So, Miss Chloe, this is the contract that you have to sign,” Dylan said, handing me the file. I took it with slightly trembling hands.

“So, Chloe, check it out. If you feel you want to add something or remove anything, let us know,” Lucas said while looking directly at me.

“Ohhk,” I said and started going through the file.

Contract for one year—that was the first thing I saw when I opened it. Then I went through the rules, which were simple: making sure to act as a perfect couple so that Lucas’s parents wouldn’t doubt our contract, respecting each other, and a few other points. But what caught my eye were the last two lines.

The first line stated that after the divorce, I would get 20% of his company shares, a building in New York, and an additional 10 billion dollars. The second line said he would cover all the medical expenses for my father’s treatment now and even after the divorce.

When I read those lines, I was shocked. Tears filled my eyes, and I looked at Lucas—only to find him already looking at me. Embarrassed, I quickly looked back at the file, though I could still feel his gaze piercing through me.

“So, Miss Chloe, do you want any changes or want to add anything?”

“Huh? Oh… no,” I said in a daze. “Uhh, actually yes. I don’t want the 20% of the company shares or the money. All I want is for you to treat my father. That’s all I need,” I said, looking at Lucas.

“That can’t be changed, Miss Chloe. These are the things you deserve,” Lucas said, still staring at me.

“Actually, Miss Chloe, Mr. Sinclair wanted to add more. But I advised him to limit it to this agreement, as I thought you might be scared away after going through the file,” Dylan quickly explained.

“Ohhh…” I said, amused by how fast Dylan reacted.

“Now then, if Miss Chloe is okay with it, let’s sign the contract,” Dylan said as he stood and offered me a pen.

“Ohh, okay,” I said, taking the pen.

Then I signed the contract, and Dylan took the file and placed it on the table toward Lucas. Lucas so elegantly signed his name compared to me, who just wrote mine plainly. Uff, the difference, I thought.

After signing, a waitress came, and Lucas asked me to order some dishes. As I was hungry, I ordered pasta, he ordered a medium steak, and Dylan ordered grilled salmon.

Before the dishes arrived, Dylan and I talked about random things, and then Lucas asked me if I had completed my studies. I answered no, and he just hummed. After a minute, he asked if I wanted to continue my studies, to which I said yes.

Then he told Dylan to look for a college and give the director’s phone number to him.

“Huh? No—I mean, it’s okay. I want to continue my studies, but not now. I’ll continue after my father is completely healed and once our contract is over,” I said.

Lucas looked at me, and I noticed Dylan blinking his eyes at me. It was funny, but I couldn’t understand what he was implying, so I ignored it.

Then Lucas said, “You don’t need to worry about your father, and about our contract—don’t feel restrained. You are free to do anything. I’ll talk to the director, and you’ll continue your studies.”

I knew there was no turning back.

“But… what is your major?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m doing Fine Arts—painting,” I replied.

“Alright then,” Lucas said while looking at Dylan.

“Noted,” Dylan said, giving a thumbs-up to Lucas. Sometimes I felt Dylan was funny.

Then our dishes came, and we ate in silence. Once we were done, Lucas said he would drop me off, which I refused.

“Sit,” he said firmly, and I complied, getting into his car. Dominating, I thought, glancing at him.

The car started, and Dylan, sitting in the passenger seat, asked me for my address. I gave him the location of the hospital. The rest of the ride was as quiet as a calm sea.

As we neared the hospital, Lucas said, “We will get the marriage certificate tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 10 a.m.”

“Huh? Tomorrow? But isn’t it too fast? I know we’re marrying for show, but to make your parents believe, shouldn’t we be more careful?” I asked, my voice nervous.

“You don’t need to worry about these things. Everything is already prepared. All you need to do is be present tomorrow,” he said in his deep voice.

“Alright then,” I said softly.

The car stopped at the hospital entrance, and I got down, closing the door slowly. I looked at Lucas, who sat looking breathtaking as ever in the car.

“Don’t worry about tomorrow. Sleep early. I’ll pick you up,” he said.

“Okay,” I replied. “Goodnight, Mr. Lucas.”

“Goodnight,” he replied, and I watched the car drive away. After it disappeared, I went inside the hospital to see my father.

“Dylan, what do you think about Chloe?” Lucas asked as he looked out the window.

“I think she is well-mannered and not like the other girls who come after your money,” Dylan replied, glancing at Lucas from the rear-view mirror.

“Hmmm…” Lucas muttered. “We’ll find out once we start living together.”