Juri

After scrambling to put together a passable outfit, I rushed downstairs to the parking lot.

I spotted him immediately. He was leaning back against his sports car, completely dressed in all black with his hair styled down. My heart skipped a violent beat. I had never seen him look so casual before, and it was devastatingly handsome.

The moment our eyes met, I diverted my gaze and stared at the ground as I walked up to him.

"Good evening, sir!" I blurted out, dropping into a deep, formal bow.

He tilted his head, looking a little amused. "You don't need to be so formal outside of work."

I snapped back up and stood straight. "Okay, sir-I mean, sure."

Internally, I cringed so hard I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, "About my proposal. I hope you pondered enough to go through with it."

I clenched my fists and nodded firmly, "I do want to marry you.”

The heat in my ears got even hotter, the words feeling incredibly foreign on my tongue.

He gave a slow nod, turning to open the passenger door of his car. He reached inside and pulled out a sleek manila folder, which I immediately assumed contained the contract.

"Here is the contract," he said, holding it up slightly. "Do you mind if we sign it inside?

My eyes widened, "I-Inside?"

He nodded, completely unfazed.

My inner voice screamed in terror. My apartment was a complete mess!

But before I could invent a single excuse to keep him out, he was already walking past me toward the building entrance.

I screamed internally.

I scrambled around my apartment while Mr. Lee waited for me outside. I had practically shut the door in his face the moment we reached my floor because of how messy my living room was. I mean, the literal successor of a billion-dollar company was standing right outside my door.

About to sign a marriage contract with me.

Even if it wasn't love, I don't think I had taken enough time to fully process who I was marrying.

I stared at the mess and rolled up my sleeves. It would be much faster if I just shoved everything into my bedroom. With a plan set, I scooped up everything that didn't belong in the living room and threw it into my room.

Satisfied, I opened the door and smiled awkwardly as I gestured for him to enter.

"Sorry about that," I said.

He hesitated for a second, his sharp eyes briefly scanning my apartment before he finally stepped inside.

I let out a quiet sigh as I pushed up my glasses and closed the door behind him.

I gestured for him to sit in the living room. "Would you like tea? Coffee?"

He shook his head. "No, thanks," he said, taking his seat.

I bit my lower lip. The African roots within me screamed at me to at least offer something to a guest. Sighing, I decided on a glass of water anyway, placing it on the coffee table just as he pulled out the contract.

He laid it on the table before interlocking his fingers, "This isn't a financial agreement," Sunjae explained, his deep voice filling the quiet room. "It's a marriage contract. If we are going to do this, we need boundaries."

He tapped the first page, "Rule number one: No physical contact without explicit consent.”

I cleared my throat in embarrassment.

He continued, unfazed, “Rule number two: We must make this marriage look entirely genuine in public. Meaning, people need to believe we married for love. Rule number three: No interfering in one another's personal affairs. Rule number four: we live in the same residence."

He paused, his sharp eyes locking onto mine with an unreadable intensity.

"And rule number five: No falling in love. Once a year passes, so does our marriage."

He slid a sleek pen across the table toward me, his mischievous yet business-like gaze locking onto mine. "I've left the bottom section blank. You have the total freedom to add whatever rules you see fit."

I picked up the paper and scanned through it. These rules weren’t bad at all.

"I do have a few things I want to add," I said, and he nodded firmly.

"We have to visit my parents at least once before our wedding. They won't believe it's authentic otherwise. Especially my African mother."

His brows arched in curiosity, "What are your parents like?"

I sighed and leaned back into my seat, "My dad is Korean, so his values almost align with yours."

"Almost?"

"He's been married to my mom for over thirty years, so he's obviously adopted some of her values."

He nodded, paying close attention to every word I said as if this were the most important business meeting of his life.

I continued, "My mom, on the other hand, moved to South Korea during her twenties, so she isn't very traditional. But she trusts her intuition more than anything. And she's almost never wrong."

His gaze narrowed as he pondered my words, "So, we have to convince her that we're genuinely in love."

I nodded.

"When do we need to have this dinner?"

I placed my index finger on my chin, "I need to introduce you to them as early as possible. Maybe next week?"

He nodded firmly.

I picked up the pen and added a line directly beneath Rule 2: Act especially in love in front of my parents.

"Anything else you would like to add?" he asked.

I tapped the pen against my lips as I pondered. Then, it clicked.

"Neither of us can date others to avoid scandal while we're married. Not even for at least a year after our divorce."

He nodded as if that rule were entirely irrelevant. I assumed it was because of his naturally cold personality. He truly looked like someone who wasn't interested in anything outside of work, including romantic affairs.

I wrote the final rule down and signed the bottom of the page. Handing the document over to him, he quickly signed it as well.

"What about your family?" I asked.

His hands paused, the sleek pen hovering just above the paper as his eyes slowly met mine. His hair dangled over his eyelids, making my heart flutter.

"D-Don't I have to meet them too?" I asked.

He placed the pen down on the wooden table with a quiet, deliberate click.

"No," he said sharply, his tone dropping several degrees. "You'll meet them on the day of the wedding. Your identity will be hidden from everyone until then."

I nodded, a chill running down my spine. I decided not to press any further. From the sheer ice in his voice, it was painfully obvious that he wasn't close to his family at all.

"Then it's official," he said, looking as if he had finally closed the major corporate deal he had been anticipating for a while.

He stood up from the couch, and I instinctively scrambled to my feet right after him. I was already bending forward to drop into another formal bow when he suddenly offered his hand.

I froze. My eyes darted between his face and his extended palm.

“Don’t leave me hanging," he murmured, a subtle, rare trace of amusement in his voice. "We're partners now."

I swallowed hard and nodded. Slowly, I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his. His hand was large, firm, and incredibly warm, which was a shocking contrast to my ice-cold fingers. For a second, his phantom touch seemed to quiet the lingering anxiety in my chest. We exchanged a single, deliberate shake, but neither of us let go immediately. The silence stretched between us for a heartbeat too long before he finally released his grip.

He picked up the leather folder from the table, sliding the pages neatly inside. I bowed before leading him toward the front door. But as his hand reached for the doorknob, the question that had been burning in the back of my mind all evening finally spilled out.

"Why did you ban that woman yesterday? You didn't have to do that."

He paused, his fingers resting on the metal handle, before he slowly turned his head to meet my gaze.

His expression was completely unreadable, but his dark eyes held a weight that made my breath catch. For a long moment, he didn't say a word, as if calculating exactly how much of his true intentions he wanted to reveal.

I swallowed hard, as my past job flashed behind my eyelids: the whispers, the glares, the terrifying memory of a manager's wife screaming in my face.

"Ms. Kim," he finally spoke, his voice dropping into a low tone that vibrated right through the space between us.

I met his gaze.

"For as long as we're married, I'll protect you. From my family, from the world, and from our workplace. I needed you to trust me. That's why I did it."

My heart skipped a beat. My brain knew that he only meant those words in a corporate sense. Yet, despite my logic, my heart still flickered at his declaration.

How on earth could he say something like that so casually?