The chandelier sparkled above them like frozen stars, casting shadows over the hundred elite guests gathered at the Zhao family's private wedding.
Lin Yuyan's smile was perfect.
Perfect makeup. Perfect posture. Perfect lies.
She clutched the bouquet tighter, fingers trembling beneath white silk gloves. Across the aisle, her soon-to-be husband stood tall in a tailored black suit. His face calm, unreadable. His eyes locked on hers like he already owned her.
It was strange. She had spent the last three months exchanging polite texts, even sharing laughter over phone calls with Zhao Lemin—the gentle man she agreed to marry. But today... he felt different. Cold. Sharp.
Still, she smiled. For the cameras. For the press. For her ruined image.
"Do you, Lin Yuyan, take Zhao Lemin—"
"I do."
"—and do you, Zhao Lemin, take Lin Yuyan—"
"I do."
The kiss was brief. His lips barely brushed hers. His hands cold against her waist.
Later, at the grand hotel suite prepared for the couple, she stood at the vanity, slipping off her earrings.
"I guess we're married now," she said softly, glancing at him through the mirror. "You've barely spoken a word all day."
He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "You wanted a marriage of convenience. Isn't this convenient?"
She frowned. "What—"
"I'm not Zhao Lemin," he said coldly.
The blood drained from her face.
"What?"
He stepped forward, closing the distance. "I'm Zhao Luchen. My brother decided to run away the morning of the wedding. Our father insisted you wouldn't know the difference. And he was right."
"You—" Her voice broke. "You tricked me!"
"No," he said, voice like ice. "He did. I simply cleaned up the mess."
Her knees wobbled. "This isn't legal. This marriage—"
"It's already registered. Signed. Sealed. The public thinks you're my wife, Lin Yuyan. And now, so do you."
She slapped him.
Hard.
His head turned slightly from the force, but his expression didn't change. No anger. No shock. Just quiet, bone-deep indifference.
"Feel better?" he asked.
Tears pricked her eyes. "Why would you do this?"
He walked to the bar, poured himself a drink. "My father wanted an alliance. My brother didn't. I don't care either way—until you make me care."
"You bastard."
"Possibly," he said, sipping calmly. "But I'm the bastard you're legally tied to for the next three years."
She stormed toward the door.
"Leave now, and tomorrow's headlines will say: 'Lin Yuyan Abandons Groom on Wedding Night.'"
Her hand froze on the doorknob.
He was right.
They'd rip her apart. Her career—barely surviving a scandal from a year ago—would crumble.
She turned slowly. "You're blackmailing me."
"I'm offering you what you asked for," he said smoothly. "A convenient marriage. I'll give you your space. You give me obedience. It's simple."
She walked up to him, looking him dead in the eyes.
"I'll play your game," she whispered. "But one day, Zhao Luchen… I will make you regret ever tricking me."
For the first time, a flicker of something passed through his cold gaze—amusement? Curiosity? Lust?
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I'm looking forward to it, Mrs. Zhao."