Chloe Bishop had no intention of hiding her motives, so she spoke with total frankness. "The Chloe Bishop sitting in front of you is no longer the wealthy heiress of the Bishop Group. Today, I have nothing—no money, no connections, and no one to back me up. You, Rob Stark, have everything. I need to borrow the status of being your fiancée to take back what belongs to me."

As these blunt truths tumbled out of her mouth, a flicker of complexity finally crossed Rob Stark’s usually expressionless face. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

If he remembered correctly, Chloe Bishop had once been the golden child of the Bishop Family, showered with affection. How had she fallen so far in just fifteen years? What exactly had happened to her?

"You don't need to worry about me refusing to break off the engagement later," Chloe added, seeing his silence. "The agreement clearly states that after one year, you will be the one to initiate the breakup. One year is all I need. I won't occupy the position of your fiancée forever."

Rob Stark remained silent, his indifferent eyes fixed on her. This woman was a stranger compared to the girl in his memories. He didn't know what her personality had been like as a child, but he was certain it wasn't this.

Behind her gaze lay a hidden, fragile helplessness. She looked at him with a glimmer of hope—as if he were her last lifeline—though she likely didn't even realize it. It gave Rob the unsettling feeling that if he rejected her, she would truly have nowhere left to turn.

As the silence stretched on, Chloe’s small hands involuntarily balled into fists. She had arrived with a head full of prepared arguments, but facing Mr. Stark now, she had completely forgotten her script.

Minutes ticked by. The massive CEO’s office became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. In this silent standoff, Chloe was the first to break. She took a deep breath and slowly stood up.

"I’m sorry. I’ve put you in a difficult position."

As much as she wanted him to agree, she wasn't the type to force someone. It made sense; probably no man would willingly agree to such a strange arrangement.

"It’s not a difficult position."

Rob Stark’s voice finally cut through the silence, making Chloe freeze just as she was about to leave.

"You..." Chloe wasn't sure what those words meant. Was he agreeing or refusing?

Rob raised a hand, his long fingers tapping the arm of the chair. "Sit."

Chloe sat back down, her ears practically ringing as she waited for his final answer.

Rob picked up her engagement agreement again. Under her watchful eyes, he fed the thick stack of papers—all a dozen or so pages—into the paper shredder. He watched calmly as the document was reduced to strips.

Chloe’s heart sank to the bottom of the ocean. Failure. That was his answer.

Her fists tightened as she fought to keep her emotions in check. She told herself it was okay; hadn't she expected this outcome before she even walked in? If this path was blocked, she’d just find another. She hadn't died in that asylum; surely she could find a way to survive now that she was out.

Comforting herself with these thoughts, Chloe calmed down and accepted the blow. She stood up once more and turned toward the door.

"Let’s get married."

Chloe’s hand was already on the doorknob. Just as she was about to pull the heavy office door open, Rob Stark dropped those three words like a bomb behind her.

Let’s get married!

Chloe gasped for air. He had rejected her fake engagement, only to suggest marriage? Did she hear him wrong, or had Rob Stark lost his mind?

Realizing both were unlikely—especially the latter—Chloe turned back to face him, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

"A... fake marriage?"

"Marriage is not a game. I never treat my own marriage as something fake," Rob Stark said indifferently. His tone was as casual as if he were simply remarking that the weather was nice.

Chloe Bishop felt that if the situation weren't so serious, she might have laughed out loud. Hearing the words "marriage is not a game" come out of Rob Stark's mouth made the whole situation feel like an absolute joke.

How many times had they actually met? Chloe counted on her fingers—she didn't even need one hand. From the first time she met him when she was seven until now, they had met exactly three times in eighteen years. Aside from their names, they knew nothing about each other. You want to marry a stranger and claim marriage isn't a game? Are you sure you're not kidding?

"Rob Stark, did you take your medicine today?" Chloe blurted out before she could stop herself.

Rob Stark: "..."

He pressed a finger to his temple to soothe a mounting headache. With a rare display of patience, he said, "You need a backer. Marrying me is much safer than a fake engagement. If we marry, you become my wife. In New York, you can walk with your head held high, and no one will dare touch you."

"Why would I want to walk like that? I’m not a bully," Chloe shot back, her mouth once again moving faster than her brain.

Rob Stark: "..."

This time, his temple visibly twitched. He couldn't quite keep his composure.

Of course, the moment the words left her mouth, Chloe regretted them. She bit her lip, desperately wanting to slap herself. Why can't you just keep your mouth shut!

Seeing Rob's face darken, Chloe felt even worse. Just as she was trying to think of a way to salvage the conversation, a knock came from the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

The three soft raps felt like they were pounding against Chloe’s heart, making her jump.

"Come in," Rob said, his face still grim.

An assistant twisted the handle and entered. Before even stepping fully into the room, he felt the icy tension in the air. He stole a glance at Mr. Stark, noticed his dark expression, and immediately became more cautious.

"Mr. Stark," he reminded him carefully, "the car is ready. You need to head to the airport now."

Rob gave a low grunt of affirmation. He stood up, scribbled a string of numbers on a sticky note, tore it off, and walked toward Chloe.

As he approached, Chloe realized just how tall he truly was. Standing at nearly 6'1", his physical presence felt like a heavy weight pressing down on her. His perfectly tailored suit accentuated his physique; he looked like a walking mannequin.

"Take this," Rob said, pausing beside her. As he moved his hand, the diamond cufflink at his wrist caught the light, making Chloe squint. "I’ll be on a business trip for a week. Give me a call when you’ve made up your mind."

Chloe took the note as if possessed, clutching it tightly in her hand.

________________________________________

When Jake Tully dragged his exhausted body home from the law firm, he found Chloe Bishop snuggled comfortably on the sofa. Between her slender fingers, she held one of his brand-new crystal wine glasses, filled with the vintage red wine he had been saving for a special occasion. The bottle on the table was already half empty.

Jake’s heart ached at the sight of his lost treasure.

"Chloe Bishop, you better have a good reason for drinking my wine. If this isn't for a celebration, I’m throwing you off the balcony," Jake yelled, hands on his hips.

Chloe looked up. Her pale face now had a soft, rosy flush from the alcohol, making her look much healthier. The sight instantly drained half of Jake’s anger. Sigh. It’s really hard to stay mad at a face that pretty.

Jake sat down defeatedly and snatched the remaining half-bottle, pouring himself a glass. "So? Did Rob Stark agree to the fake engagement?"

Chloe shook her head like a rattle.

Jake let out a very unladylike curse. "And here I thought you were celebrating. You’re just drinking your sorrows away. Chloe, get a grip! So you got rejected—I never thought he’d agree anyway."

"Actually," Chloe said solemnly, nodding her small head, "he said marriage isn't a game and shouldn't be used as a bargaining chip. So, after 'careful consideration,' he said we should just get married."

Pfft!

The wine Jake had just sipped sprayed right back out.

"Cough... cough!" Jake sputtered and choked for a good while before managed to gasp out, "Chloe... you’re not drunk, are you?"

"You know my tolerance better than anyone," Chloe Bishop countered.

Jake Tully raised a hand in surrender. "Fine, half a bottle won’t get you drunk. But does that mean Rob Stark is the one who's crazy? Before today, he probably didn't even remember who Chloe Bishop was. And he says marriage isn't a game? Marrying a literal stranger is the definition of playing games."

"Hmm..." Chloe thought for a moment. "Based on my years of observing psychiatric patients, Rob Stark doesn't seem like his brain is malfunctioning. Besides, it really felt like he made the proposal after careful consideration. Let me think... he was silent for about ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Jake rolled his eyes. "Well, for a CEO whose time is worth millions every minute, spending ten minutes to contemplate marriage is practically an eternity. That’s 'careful consideration' for him, I guess."

Chloe felt the same way; otherwise, she wouldn't have used the word "serious" to describe those ten minutes of silence.

"So, what about you? Did you agree?" Jake calmed down and took another sip of wine.

"I don't know if I should. From a practical standpoint, marrying him is the choice that maximizes my interests," Chloe admitted.

As her best friend for over twenty years, Jake didn't need her to say the rest. Having witnessed the suffering and torment Chloe had endured over the past five years, Jake knew that marrying Rob Stark was, logically, her best option.

"Whatever choice you make, I’ll support you," Jake said, pulling his friend into a hug. "This time, Chloe, I promise I will help you overturn your case. I will wash away every drop of dirty water they ever threw on you."

Chloe’s eyelashes fluttered for just a second before her expression returned to normal. In that brief moment, her resolve hardened. She downed the rest of her wine in one go and, with a voice laced with the scent of alcohol, said, "Jake, help me prepare two more agreements."

________________________________________

The next day, Chloe Bishop slept until the sun was high in the sky. After waking up, she got ready and took the agreements Jake Tully had rushed to draft overnight. She hailed a taxi to the famous Lakeside Villa District on the outskirts of New York.

Though she hadn't been here in five years, she had lived here for ten. As she walked down the familiar path to a specific villa, she couldn't help but marvel at how sharp her memory remained.

She rang the doorbell, and a maid quickly came to answer. The woman was a stranger and didn't recognize Chloe. She looked Chloe up and down, seemingly trying to judge her status based on her clothes.

However, Chloe was a disappointment to her. Today, she was wearing an outfit she had made herself five years ago—it was worlds away from the style of a wealthy socialite.

"Can I help you? Who are you looking for?" Judging that Chloe wasn't anyone important, the maid’s attitude turned dismissive, carrying a hint of condescension.

"David Bishop," Chloe stated. "I’m looking for David Bishop."

"You’re looking for the Lord?" The maid was surprised. "Do you have an appointment? The Lord doesn't just see anyone who wanders by." Hearing that the girl wanted to see the man of the house, the maid grew suspicious.

Chloe let out a cold laugh. Losing the patience to argue, she pushed past the maid and stepped into the villa.

The maid froze for a second before reacting with a loud shout. "Hey! How can you be so rude? You can’t just barge into someone’s home! Get out of here right now, or I’ll have the bodyguards throw you out!"

The maid’s shouting attracted the other staff members and the security detail. Almost as soon as she finished her sentence, several bodyguards in black suits blocked Chloe’s path.

"Miss, please leave," one bodyguard said. He was relatively polite, but his tone carried a clear warning.

Chloe looked at the gathered staff with an expressionless face. Not a single face was familiar. It seemed that over the last five years, the Bishop Family’s old staff had been systematically replaced. In this house, there was no longer anyone who knew that Chloe Bishop was the rightful eldest daughter of the home.

"What’s all this noise? Don't you know the Lord is in a video conference?" Amidst the standoff, a scolding female voice drifted down from the staircase.