Kaya stood frozen in the doorway of Leon Feng's office, the plush silence pressing in around her like the weight of velvet curtains.
The air smelled faintly of cedarwood and something more expensive than anything she could name.
Than anything she currently owned.
Leon watched her steadily, squinting his eyes and then letting out a scoff.
She cleared her throat. "Are you going to tell me what this is about, or am I just supposed to guess?"
He spoke again, finally. His eyes swept over her again, slowly. Intentionally.
"Sit."
"I think I'll stand."
"Sit," he repeated, firmer.
Kaya gritted her teeth and reluctantly sat down. The chair was so soft it swallowed her, but her spine stayed stiff.
Leon walked around the desk and lowered himself into the seat across from her. Then, without preamble, he said, "I want you to marry me."
Kaya squeezed her face, dumbfounded. "Excuse me?"
"Marry me. For one year."
The words hung in the air like smoke and Kaya sat up straighter, convinced she had misheard him.
"I'm sorry, did you actually just ask me to marry you?"
Leon leaned back in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests, fingers steepled like a man who had all the time in the world and not a shred of doubt about the outcome.
"It's a business arrangement," he said, voice smooth, deliberate. "A contract. You marry me, publicly, for one year. You get financial security. I get what I need."
Kaya blinked once.
Then again.
And then she laughed. Short, sharp. Bitter enough to burn the back of her throat."You dragged me out of my apartment, hauled me into your shiny skyscraper, just to insult me?"
Leon didn't budge. "I don't insult people I consider useful."
"Useful," she echoed, her voice rising. "Right. That's what I am to you? Useful? After insulting me yesterday? What exactly do you need a wife for, Mr. Feng? Are you trying to qualify for a dating show? Or just working through a bucket list of humiliations?"
His jaw ticked, just once, so subtly it almost didn't happen.
"Not that it's any of your business, but investors are pressing for long-term leadership optics. Stability. I need a wife on paper. A well-timed engagement. A marriage. A clean, dignified divorce. It's strategy."
Kaya sat very still for a beat, then leaned forward, voice low and tight.
"You don't even know me."
Leon met her gaze without hesitation. "I know everything I need to."
He listed it like a spreadsheet. Cold. Unflinching.
"Your mother's on her third round of chemo and the hospital is threatening to pull care unless bills are paid in full. Your sister is fifteen. You're six months behind on rent. No degree. No stable employment. Three rejected job applications just today. You're out of time."
The words sliced through her like razors. Clean. Cruel.
Kaya inhaled sharply, anger and humiliation flaring like fire across her chest. "You don't get to wave my life in my face like some… like some charity case. You don't get to act like this is a generous offer when it's just manipulation dressed up in a suit."
"It's not charity," he replied, voice still maddeningly level. "You'll be paid. Handsomely. And your family's needs will be handled. All of them."
Her nails dug into her palms. "So I'm just supposed to put on heels and smile for the cameras while you pose as the doting husband? What next? Learn to fetch and roll over on command?"
"Exactly that. Minus the theatrics."
Kaya shot to her feet, fury shaking her voice. "You're unbelievable."
Leon didn't flinch. "And you're emotional."
She froze.
"Excuse me?"
"You react," he said, tilting his head, analyzing her like an interesting but slightly annoying riddle. "Instead of calculating. That's dangerous."
"You think being cold makes you smart? That shutting off your humanity means you win?"
"I think emotions make people reckless. Liabilities. You let them rule your decisions, they'll gut you."
"And I think you're an arrogant, manipulative, soulless robot who thinks money can solve everything."
He actually smiled at that, barely. A flicker of amusement at the corner of his mouth. "Good," he murmured. "I was worried you might be spineless."
The insult landed like a slap. She stood, breathing hard, one part fury, one part stunned.
Leon reached into a drawer and calmly slid a thick folder across the desk.
"This is the contract. One year. No physical requirements. No binding strings. You'll appear at events, interviews. You'll live here."
"Here?" Kaya repeated, staring at him.
"In the penthouse upstairs. We will stay in separate rooms of course. Your privacy will be respected."
"And after the year?" she asked tightly.
"We divorce quietly. Publicly amicable. You walk away with enough money to start over."
Kaya didn't move.
Didn't reach for the folder.
"And if I say no?"
Leon's voice didn't rise. It didn't need to.
"Then you go back to your apartment. The one with broken tiles and no working AC. You keep working minimum wage, praying the hospital doesn't discharge your mother. You keep drowning slowly. But this time, you do it knowing you had a way out and chose not to take it."
A sick, heavy silence filled the space between them.
Her stomach twisted, and her throat burned.
"Why me?" she asked finally, barely above a whisper. "You could have any woman you wanted."
Leon stared at her as if measuring her all over again. His gaze wasn't lecherous. It was clinical.
"Because you didn't beg. Because you didn't cry. Because you slapped a man outside a club and still walked away like you had pride left to lose. And because, unlike the socialites I usually deal with, you don't want to be here. You don't want me."
He said it like a fact.
Not bitter.
Not insulted.
Just real.
"And that," he added, "makes you useful and safe."
Kaya swallowed hard, the fury in her gut flickering, unsure now if it was anger or something else.
Leon stood, tall and precise, and turned away from her toward the glass wall that overlooked the city.
"You have until tomorrow to decide."
He didn't look back.
Didn't say goodbye.
Didn't dismiss her.
He didn't have to.
Kaya stared at the folder, long and hard.
She didn't need to open it to know her signature was already half-written in her mind.
She left the office, fists clenched.
And yet, as she walked back into the polished hall of the Feng empire, one thought rang louder than her footsteps:
She was going to say yes.
And God help her, she already hated herself for it.