Kaya stared at her phone screen, unmoving. Her banking app blinked back at her, digits far too large to feel real.
$20,000,000.
She refreshed the screen. Twice.
But it was still there.
She blinked, her hands trembling, then tapped out a message to her sister.
"Hey sis. Check your account. Use it for mum's treatments. Pay everything off. I'll explain later. I just... need to be away for a while."
Her sister replied almost instantly.
"Kaya??? WHERE did you get that money?! Is this safe???"
Kaya stared at the screen, her throat tightening. She couldn't tell her. Not now. Not yet. The contract's confidentiality clause had been very clear: silence, or it all disappeared.
She typed one more line.
"Trust me. I'm okay."
She left it at that and focused on what was in front of her.
The penthouse was insane.
White marble floors, high arched ceilings, and minimalist furniture that probably cost more than her entire childhood. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the skyline of Meiran like a private constellation show.
The walls were a soft, creamy white, offset with silver accents and art that looked far too abstract to understand.
Her heels echoed against the floor as she stepped cautiously through the space, taking it all in, the gleaming kitchen, the glass dining table without a single fingerprint, the living room with a sectional sofa large enough to swallow her whole.
A set of doors on the far side opened into her private suite. Her own suite.
Her breath caught.
A king-sized bed dressed in silk sheets. A vanity she didn't know how to use. A walk-in closet that was already filled with clothing in her size, designer labels she'd only seen on glossy magazine covers. A separate bathroom with a soaking tub, rainfall shower, and the kind of lighting that made her reflection look flawless.
She sat down at the edge of the bed and exhaled.
What am I doing?
The money was real. The contract was signed. Her mother could live. Her sister could go back to school. Rent? Paid for a year in advance. It had all happened in the span of a single day.
Before she could further process any of it, the door burst open.
Two women walked in, tall, elegant, and professional. One carried a rolling garment bag. The other had a small case clutched in both hands like a treasure chest.
Kaya jumped up. "Sorry, who are you?"
"We're from the Feng styling team," one of them said smoothly. "You need to be ready in forty-five minutes."
"Ready for what?"
They exchanged a glance. Then, the taller one said: "The wedding, of course."
Kaya stared at her. "The... what?"
"The wedding," the second woman repeated, like it was obvious.
"You mean, today?!" Kaya blurted. "Already?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Kaya looked down at herself, then back at them, completely thrown. "I haven't even unpacked. I thought I'd have, I don't know, more time to process?"
"The groom doesn't prefer delays," the taller one said. "The schedule is set."
"The schedule, of course he has a schedule," Kaya muttered under her breath.
"Do you need help showering?" the second woman asked politely.
"No, no, I've got that." Kaya turned, practically bolting for the en-suite bathroom. She peeled off her clothes in seconds and stepped into the shower, letting the water scald her skin and snap her thoughts into order.
A wedding.
Today.
No ceremony. No vows written in secret. No flowers she picked herself. Just logistics. Precision. Leon.
She stepped out of the shower and found the women waiting like clockwork. One dried her hair with practiced hands while the other opened the garment bag.
Kaya's breath caught again and she covered her mouth.
The dress was stunning.
Ivory white with silver embroidery, long-sleeved and delicate, the fabric hugging her figure before spilling into a soft train. The neckline was elegant, the bodice structured and smooth. No frills. No lace. It was powerful. Understated. Just like him.
They dressed her quickly, securing the gown with tiny invisible zippers and hooks. Then came the light makeup, flawless, natural, soft enough to not look like a mask. Her hair was twisted into a loose updo with a few tendrils framing her face.
She looked at herself in the mirror and barely recognized the girl staring back.
Then they slipped white satin heels on her feet, handed her a clutch she hadn't asked for, and led her out of the room.
The car was already waiting at the entrance of the tower.
Kaya sat stiffly in the backseat, her hands tight around the clutch, her pulse thundering in her ears. The car moved quietly through the streets, winding toward the city's inner circle where the registry office sat like a glass crown on a hill.
No church. No guests. No music. Just paperwork and signatures.
She wondered if Leon would even be smiling. Probably not.
She bit her lip and tried to calm the knot in her stomach. This wasn't a real marriage. This was business. A signed deal with an expiration date. Nothing more.
When they arrived, she was escorted through a side entrance, away from cameras and public eyes. Inside the private wing of the city registrar, she was met by yet another assistant. "This way, please."
The marble hallway opened into a small room. Clean. Uncluttered. A desk at the center. Two pens laid neatly side by side.
Leon was already there, wearing a charcoal suit with a silver pocket square that matched her dress embroidery.
He didn't look surprised. Or affected. Just… observant.
He glanced at her from across the room, his dark eyes trailing slowly from her heels to her hair. Not lecherous. Not impressed.
Just… precise.
"You're late," he said.
Kaya stared. "I just found out I was getting married twenty minutes ago."
He didn't blink. "And you look fine. Let's not waste time."
They walked to the desk in silence.
The registrar, a man in a navy suit and glasses, looked between them and gave a small, rehearsed speech. Then came the documents.
One signature.
Then another.
Kaya's hand trembled as she signed the last line beside his.
The man stamped it.
"That's it," he said.
Leon nodded once. Then offered her his arm, not gently but formally.
Kaya took it.
And just like that, she was married.
To the coldest man in Meiran City.
And no one, not her mother, not her sister, not even herself, knew what she'd just done.