Kaya bolted upright, tangled in silk sheets she hadn't meant to fall asleep in. Her head spun, and for a split second, she forgot where she was, then the cold slap of reality hit her.
The contract. The wedding. The twenty million dollars sitting like blood money in her account.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Her phone lit up for the third time in a minute and she glanced at it. Her sister had called over 3 times, and had just sent another message.
"KAYA! I saw the news. WHAT IS GOING ON?! Answer me!! Please!"
Kaya's thumb hovered. She wanted to call her sister. She wanted to scream. She wanted to tell them every detail.
But the terms were clear. If she spoke about anything going on besides what the media showed, the money would be retracted, and the contract void.
She set the phone down like it burned, moving her hand through her already messy hair. She turned around, taking note of the light that spilled into the room like invaders from space.
It was probably past eight, or maybe nine?
As she was wondering what she would use her day to do, there were three sharp knocks on her door.
"Miss Kaya? Are you awake?" came Yuyan's voice, smooth as ice. "The master has been waiting for you."
Her stomach twisted, and she cleared her throat.
"Waiting? Yes, I am awake!" She quickly flew out of the bed, remembering that one of the many duties she was to carry out was to attend meetings with Mr Feng. She rushed to the bathroom and showered, and afterwards she dressed quickly in the first thing she could find, sleek, black, and understated, and rushed to the door.
The hallway outside was quiet. Too quiet. She wondered if Yuyan had perhaps left.
Until she turned the corner, and froze.
Leon stood in the hallway, already dressed in a razor-sharp charcoal suit, every line on his body crisp with power. His eyes, dark and unreadable, locked onto her the moment she appeared.
"You're late. I have been here for 20 minutes," he said flatly.
She swallowed. "Good morning to you too."
Leon didn't respond at first. His jaw ticked once, sharply, then again, like he was biting back the urge to snap. He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, a predator scenting blood.
"Do you think this is funny, Kaya?"
His voice was low and polished, like a piano played with a blade.
Kaya folded her arms. Her pulse was loud in her ears, but she held his gaze. "I think you're used to the world kneeling when you speak," she said quietly. "I'm not built like that."
A glint of cold amusement flickered in his eyes and he chuckled.
"I see. Built like what?" he murmured. "Proud? Difficult? Loud? You were built to survive, Kaya. Nothing more."
Her breath hitched.
Leon's lips curled into a cold, calculated smile. "Don't mistake your circumstances for strength. You were bought. Lifted out of the dirt. And you think that makes you an equal?"
He stepped closer, towering now.
"You were drowning in debt. Begging hospitals to give your mother another day to live. I signed a check, and the world bent for you. And this—" he gestured between them, voice softening dangerously, "—is the price. So don't pretend you're still free."
Kaya's jaw clenched. "I never begged you for anything."
"But you took it," he said, voice cutting. "Every penny. Every luxury. You sleep in silk sheets now because I allow it. You wear shoes worth more than your old rent because I put them there."
"I signed the contract. That doesn't make me yours."
"It makes you mine enough to own your mornings," he snapped. "And in case you've forgotten, I don't tolerate disobedience."
"Oh?" she scoffed, her voice wobbling despite her effort to steady it. "Did the fake wife forget her cue?"
She tried to push past him, brushing his shoulder with her own. But his hand shot out, catching her wrist.
Tightly.
"Kaya," he said, voice low, dangerous, almost velvety in the way it sliced. His fingers curled tighter around her wrist, and she froze, breath hitching.
He stepped in again, his presence wrapping around her like a noose. His gaze dropped to her mouth, then lower, tracing her silently like a claim he already owned.
"I am Leon Feng," he said, each word deliberate and heavy. "I built empires from ash. I crushed men three times your size and twice as clever. Do not test me, wife. You won't like what happens."
Her free hand curled into a fist as they stared at each other. Her chest was tight with fury and something she refused to name. His cologne, dark, clean, expensive, coiled around her, disorienting.
Still, she lifted her chin.
"You think I'm scared of a man who hides behind contracts and control?" she whispered.
His grip pulsed once, hard.
Then, he leaned in, breath brushing against her lips like a dare. His eyes didn't soften, they sharpened.
"Scared?" he echoed. "No. But you should be careful. You married a man who doesn't lose."
Kaya swallowed back the lump in her throat.
And then smiled, slow and razor-edged. "We'll see about that."
For a moment, nothing moved, and his gaze burned into hers, unreadable.
Then, his eyes dragged down to her lips again, slow, possessive, and she felt it. That unspoken thing. That line between power and want.
But instead of closing the space between them, Leon released her wrist, and cold air rushed in where his hand had been.
He stepped back.
His voice, when he spoke again, was once more steel.
"Let's go. We're late."
And just like that, he turned his back on her and walked away.
No apology. No hesitation.
Just ice.
Kaya stood frozen for a moment, heart pounding so hard it hurt. Her wrist throbbed faintly where he'd held it, and her pride burned hotter than her humiliation.
Tears prickled at the edge of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
This man.
This life.
This marriage.
It was a war zone. And if Leon Feng thought he could shatter her just because he'd saved her?
Then he didn't know her at all.