The long rectangular dining table was packed with ten dishes. Matthew and Serena took their seats across from Vivian, sitting side by side.

Matthew looked totally at ease, casually filling Serena's plate with food with that gentle, caring manner of his.

Serena tried her best to hide how on edge she felt, putting on an innocent, slightly shy face.

She was seriously impressed by this broody CEO she'd just met. This guy sure knew how to put on an act-maybe he'd majored in drama or something.

Today had been absolutely exhausting. Thinking back on everything still felt surreal, like she was stuck in a dream she couldn't quite wake up from.

The dishes on the table looked and smelled amazing, and Serena had to fight the urge to just dig in like she hadn't eaten in days. She forced herself to eat slowly and politely, head down, keeping that lady-like image alive.

Then, out of nowhere, Vivian paused and looked at Serena with a smile. "Ms. Dawson, how long have you and Matthew been dating?"

Serena quickly swallowed the food she was chewing, then started coughing from having wolfed it down too fast.

Crap. Panic mode activated. Questions already?

She hadn't rehearsed for this. No script to go by. What was she even supposed to say?

Pulling herself together with a tight smile, she answered softly, "You can just call me Serena. 'Ms. Dawson' sounds way too formal."

Vivian laughed warmly. "Look at me! Getting old and forgetful. Don't take it personally, Serena."

"Of course not. You actually look more like Matthew's sister than his mom," Serena said, trying to dodge the earlier question smoothly.

Vivian caught the deflection instantly, and her suspicions about Serena and Matthew's relationship deepened a little more. But she sensed Serena was getting wary, so pushing further might be too obvious.

Switching topics casually, she asked, "So, do you and Matthew work together now?"

Feeling the tension ease just a bit, Serena responded in a clearer tone, "Oh no, I'm still in school-junior year at Veriton University."

"No wonder you look so young."

"Well... not that young. I'm twenty-one already," Serena said with a cheeky little tongue-out smile.

Vivian looked puzzled. "Twenty-one? And how long have you two been dating? I don't recall Matthew ever mentioning you before."

And there it was-the question she'd hoped to escape. Serena's nerves started buzzing again. How long had they supposedly been together?

As she scrambled for an answer, Matthew quietly tapped her foot twice under the table.

Two taps? What was that supposed to mean-two years?

That couldn't be right. A guy like Matthew, cold and calculating, dating someone for two years? Seemed way too unlikely.

But saying two days felt like a joke. Too fake.

Two months-yeah, that felt safer. That sounded just right.

Blushing a bit, she held up two fingers and smiled. "Two months."

And right then, completely wrecking her story, Matthew said without missing a beat, "Two years."

Serena wanted the ground to swallow her whole. She quickly tried to patch things up, her cheeks burning, "Well... technically, it's two years and two months."

Vivian let out this exaggerated laugh, "Oh wow, that long already? You two should seriously start planning the wedding. So, when are you two making it official?"

"Make it official?" Serena blinked, turning sharply to Matthew, who just kept eating like none of this phased him at all. Was he seriously playing this game all the way?

Vivian continued, "Yep. According to Matthew's father's will, 42% of Quinn Group's shares are temporarily under my name, and they'll only be transferred to Matthew after he gets married. The lawyers need to see the marriage certificate to make it official. He's been running the company for almost three years now without owning a single share-that's just not right. So, I've been pushing him to get married."

Serena gave a weak "Oh..." and fell silent, totally unsure how to respond.

If Matthew had originally agreed to marry Chloe, it must've been to lock in that chunk of the company.

So what made him cancel last minute?

Could it be he hadn't known until today that the shares couldn't be transferred without a marriage certificate?

These high-society power plays were starting to feel like a real-life soap opera. Way too complicated.

Serena felt a wave of regret wash over her-she'd just escaped one mess, only to fall into another.

"Damn it, Serena, what kind of messed-up luck do you have?" she silently complained to herself.

Vivian wasn't giving up. She kept smiling and staring at the pair, asking again, "So, when are you two planning to make it official?"

"Uh...well..."

Serena swallowed hard and cleared her throat awkwardly. Under the table, she gave Matthew a subtle nudge with her foot, hinting at him to say something.

Matthew calmly wiped his mouth with the warm towel on the table and answered coolly, "Within ten days, I'll take the marriage certificate to the lawyer and get it done."

Ten days?

Then, as if nothing had just shocked the room, he gently pulled Serena into his arms and placed a light kiss on her forehead. "You've got a sensitive stomach. Don't eat too much tonight. I'll have Susan warm up some milk for you later."

A thunderstorm of mental curses raced through Serena's head.

Excuse me?! Who said my stomach's bad? It's working just fine! I didn't eat all day, and if your mom hadn't been bombarding me with questions, I could've cleared all ten of these dishes by myself!

Noticing her silence, Matthew stood up, plucked the fork from her hand, and started wiping her mouth with a towel, mumbling as he did, "You've got food all over your mouth."

Vivian teased with raised brows, "Wow, can't believe this is the same Matthew I've known-so sweet and caring."

Serena could feel how over-the-top the act was getting-it was starting to spiral.

With a strained smile, she said, "I can do it myself."

Matthew, seemingly satisfied, sat back down and gave a subtle smile. "I'm taking Serena to Bali tomorrow morning."

Bali?

Now where did that come from? Was that improv?

Vivian paused, obviously taken aback. "Oh... vacation, huh? And get the license within ten days..."

"Set up a time to meet Serena's parents. Both sides can talk about the wedding-date, details, all that. Gotta hear what her folks want; can't skip the formalities."

Matthew, ever composed, didn't flinch. "Let's talk about it after she graduates. That's about two years away. There's no rush."

Vivian was stunned. She jumped to her feet. "Wait, you're saying the wedding's in two years?!"

Realizing how off-script this dinner had gone, Serena just wanted it over and done with.

Hearing Matthew say her stomach wasn't well and she shouldn't eat anymore earlier, she immediately clutched her belly, frowned, and let out a soft moan. "Matthew, my stomach hurts..."

"She's not feeling well. I'll take her back to her room so she can rest," Matthew said in a flat, dismissive tone.

Then, without warning, he picked Serena up in a bridal carry and started toward the elevator. "Susan, send up some stomach medicine and warm milk."

Wow, he's really going all in! Even got the medicine part down-talk about full-on commitment to the bit!

This dinner had Serena sweating bullets. It was a full-on brainpower and acting showdown.

She hadn't even gotten to really enjoy any of the food-now her stomach was rumbling loud enough to echo.

Frustrated, she thought, Seriously? A glass of hot milk is supposed to fix this?

As soon as they stepped into the elevator, Serena began to struggle. "Matthew, put me down right now!"

But the gentle act was gone now-Matthew's voice turned cold. "Stop moving."

Serena followed his sharp gaze and looked toward the elevator's glass wall. She could see Vivian watching them intently, a puzzled expression on her face.

Serena instantly went quiet.

Matthew carried her up to a room on the third floor of the villa and gently set her down.

Before she could get her balance, he wrapped an arm around her slim waist and teased, "Not bad back there. Want a reward?"

Serena shot him a glare and gave him a quick poke to the chest with her index finger, pushing him away.

Thinking back to what Vivian said at the dinner table about the will, and the conversation she'd overheard between him and David, Serena had a pretty solid idea of what kind of person Matthew was: part cold, part roguish, mostly manipulative, and undeniably handsome.

But deep down? Probably still a decent guy. At least he didn't leave her high and dry.

She relaxed a bit and joked, with a hint of drama in her tone, "As far as performances go, you win, hands down. That acting? Smooth as butter."

Matthew flopped down onto the couch, casually flipping open a magazine on the coffee table. "Likewise," he said without looking up.

Just then, a knock came at the door. "Mr. Quinn, the antacid and warm milk you asked for."

In the middle of their half-hearted flattery, the two exchanged a glance.

Serena immediately flopped onto the bed with an exaggerated groan of pain, playing along. Matthew opened the door, calm as ever, and took the medicine and milk.

"Get up," he said, nudging her gently, "drink the milk. We've got some real business to do."

She opened one eye warily. "Business? What kind of business?"

Ignoring her question, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the walk-in closet.

Turns out this place wasn't just big-it was massive.

She'd already thought the room was huge with the giant bed, the couch, and the bookcase. But the closet? A whole new level. Rows of tailored suits, crisp white and pale blue shirts, polished leather shoes in military order...

When he opened a drawer, she saw neat rows of ties, some paired with cufflinks packed in sleek cases. The layer underneath held watches, over a dozen of them, each sitting snug in its own velvet box.

Serena rubbed her eyes. Was she seeing this right?

This was a man's closet. And not just any man's. It was spotless, luxurious, and honestly, kind of jaw-dropping.

She was at a loss for words.

Matthew grabbed a white dress shirt and handed it to her, tilting his head toward the door across the room.

"For me? You're giving me clothes? Uh... but it's a guy's shirt?" she asked in confusion.

"Go take a shower."

Her eyes widened. "Sh-shower? Wait... what are you planning?"

Matthew shot her a look of pure judgment. "Ms. Dawson, so you just climb into bed straight from the street?"

With a sulk, she snatched the shirt and headed into the bathroom.

If she had to describe this bathroom in one word, other than "big," it'd still be "big." She was honestly out of energy to complain.

Her wedding makeup today was uncomfortable as hell. Normally she was all about that bare-faced life.

After making sure the door was securely locked, she pressed her ear to it-no sounds outside. Only then did she really relax and start her shower.

She was wiped. A long, hot soak was exactly what she needed to rinse off the chaos of the day.

Rich people's shampoo and shower gel were on another level-it all smelled ridiculously good. She couldn't resist playing with the foamy bubbles, giggling like a kid.

But her little bubble party was cut short by a sharp knock: "Thump thump thump!"

Freeze. "Who's there?" she called out, tense.

"You evolving in there or what? Hurry up already!" Even through the door, she could sense all the no-chill in his voice.

She rolled her eyes so hard they almost got stuck. "Sorry we're not all in-and-out like you guys, okay? And you, Mr. Quinn, being a whole thirty-something year old man, don't tell me you've never waited for a girl to finish up?"

No response. But Serena grinned to herself. "When it comes to talking back, I'm nearly undefeated. Hmph! Try rushing me again. Keep waiting!"