The gallery was too quiet for Ren's liking.
He tiptoed down the marble hallway, the sound of his worn-out sneakers echoing against the cold walls. Expensive art pieces hung on both sides—bold brushstrokes, glittering gold frames. He didn't belong here, and he knew it.
"Just deliver the coffee and leave," Ren whispered to himself, clutching the cardboard tray like it was a shield. His manager at the café said it was a VIP order—"Handle it properly, or don't bother coming back."
He reached the end of the hallway and spotted a door slightly ajar. Light spilled out, along with the low murmur of voices. Just as he raised his hand to knock—
Crash!
His foot caught on a loose corner of the rug.
Everything happened too fast.
The tray flew. Hot coffee splashed across the floor. And worst of all—
A painting toppled off its pedestal.
Ren's heart stopped.
He stared, frozen, as the massive canvas hit the ground with a dull, tragic thud. Paint smeared, the frame cracked. Silence. Deafening silence.
Then came a voice. Deep. Cold. Calm in the most terrifying way.
"Do you know what you've just done?"
Ren turned.
Standing in the doorway, wearing a black suit sharper than any blade, was the man himself—Li Zeyan, the owner of the gallery. And the youngest CEO in the city's art world.
Their eyes met.
Ren swallowed hard. "I—I didn't mean to... I just tripped and—"
Li Zeyan walked past him slowly, eyes on the destroyed painting.
"That piece was worth four million yuan."
Ren's knees nearly gave out. "F-Four million—?!"
"I should call security," Li Zeyan said coolly, adjusting his cufflinks. "Or... perhaps there's another way you can repay this debt."
Ren blinked. "W-What do you mean?"
Li Zeyan turned to him, gray eyes unreadable.
"Marry me."