"The CEO's Contract Wife:Married for a Million"
（Synopsis）:
To save her dying mother, Anna Lim agrees to a one-year contract marriage with cold-hearted billionaire Ethan Zhou. He has one rule: no falling in love. But when secrets from the past resurface and hearts begin to waver, will one year be enough to stay apart
· Chapter 1: The Price of a Promise
"One year. No feelings. No exceptions."
Ethan Zhou's voice was cold, his sharp eyes locked on the woman sitting across the mahogany desk.
Anna's hands trembled as she clutched the contract. Her mother was lying in the hospital bed, and the bill was more than she could ever earn in a lifetime.
"I agree," she said, forcing her voice not to break. "I'll marry you for one year."
A smirk tugged at Ethan's lips. "Good. The wedding is tomorrow."
Anna's heart skipped a beat. No love. No freedom. Just one year of pretending to be the wife of a man who didn't believe in emotions.
She had no idea—this contract would change her life forever.
Chapter 2: The Cold Ring
The wedding happened in a blink.
No flowers, no family, no vows—just a cold signature and a diamond ring that felt heavier than chains.
Anna stood in front of the courthouse, wearing a simple white dress that Ethan had picked. He arrived late, dressed in a black suit that matched his eyes—sharp, emotionless.
"You're late," she whispered.
"You're already my wife," he replied. "You'll get used to it."
He didn't touch her hand. He didn't smile for the photos.
After signing the papers, Ethan turned and walked toward his car. A sleek, black Rolls Royce.
"Get in," he said.
She hesitated.
"We're not lovers, Anna," he reminded her, his voice low and indifferent. "Don't expect kindness. Just fulfill your role. One year. Then we go back to our own lives."
Anna swallowed her pride and stepped in. She stared out the window, the city lights blurring as the car moved.
But deep inside her heart, something already felt wrong.
Why did this man—this cold CEO—feel strangely familiar?
She didn't remember.
But he did.
Chapter 3: One Bed, Two Strangers
The penthouse was bigger than any apartment Anna had ever seen.
Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the city skyline. Everything—from the marble floors to the leather furniture—screamed wealth and silence.
Ethan threw his suit jacket on the couch and loosened his tie. "Your room is on the left. Don't enter my office without permission."
"Of course," Anna said quietly, setting her small suitcase down.
"Also," he added, "we'll appear in public once a week. Charity events, company galas—my assistant will brief you. Until then, stay invisible."
Anna turned to him, her eyes steady. "I'm not a ghost, Mr. Zhou. I'm your wife. At least on paper."
Ethan's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
She went to her room—only to find it connected to his.
One large king-size bed. No divider. No second bed.
"Is this a joke?" she turned back to him.
"This is a marriage, Anna. Or do you want me to build you a doghouse?"
Her cheeks flushed with anger, but she forced a calm smile. "I'll take the couch."
That night, she lay curled up in the living room. The leather couch was cold and narrow, but she refused to sleep next to a man who treated her like a business deal.
What she didn't see...
...was Ethan standing silently outside her door at 2 a.m., holding a blanket.
He left it on the couch, then disappeared into the shadows.
Chapter 4: His Blanket, Her Pride
Anna woke up wrapped in a thick, warm blanket.
For a moment, she thought it was a dream.
She clearly remembered falling asleep without one.
Her brows furrowed. She looked around—empty. Quiet. Cold sunlight spilled through the windows, and the apartment echoed like a cave.
She pulled the blanket closer. It smelled faintly like cologne—his.
Did Ethan…?
"You're awake."
She turned sharply. Ethan stood by the kitchen counter, sipping coffee like a scene from a magazine.
"You didn't have to leave this," she said carefully, holding up the blanket.
"I didn't," he replied flatly.
Anna blinked. "Then who—"
"My assistant might have dropped it off."
A lie. She knew it.
But she said nothing. If he wanted to pretend, she'd let him.
"There's a dress in your closet," he continued. "We have a charity dinner tonight. Try not to embarrass me."
Anna stood up and met his gaze. "I never agreed to be your accessory."
"No," he said. "You agreed to be my wife."
—
That evening, Anna stepped out of the bedroom wearing the black velvet dress he'd chosen. It fit her perfectly, hugging her curves like it was made for her.
Ethan looked up from his phone. For a second, he froze.
Beautiful.
He quickly looked away. "We're late."
He didn't offer his arm.
But when she stumbled in her heels walking toward the elevator, his hand caught her waist—firm, quick, like instinct.
Neither of them said a word.
But in that moment, something shifted. Just a little.
Chapter 5: The Ice Queen Returns
The ballroom was filled with diamonds, champagne, and lies.
Anna clung to her small clutch, standing beside Ethan as flashes from the cameras flickered like lightning.
"Smile," he said softly, not looking at her. "We're the perfect couple tonight."
She forced a smile. Her heels hurt. Her heart hurt more.
"Ethan!"
A voice rang out from behind them—smooth, confident, and painfully familiar.
A tall, elegant woman approached, dressed in red silk like blood.
"Clarissa," Ethan said coolly.
Clarissa Chen. The ex. The one the media still whispered about.
She looked at Anna and smirked. "So this is the contract wife?"
Anna froze.
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "You're out of line."
Clarissa laughed, unbothered. "Relax. I was just curious how much she cost you. A million? Two?"
Anna's knuckles whitened around her clutch. Before she could walk away—
Ethan stepped forward, blocking Clarissa's view.
"Watch your mouth," he said coldly. "Anna is my wife. That's all you need to know."
The crowd around them went silent.
Clarissa's smile faded. "I see. The great Ethan Zhou is really falling for her, huh?"
Ethan didn't answer.
But when he turned back to Anna, he took her hand. Gently.
And held it.
"Let's go," he said.
Anna walked with him through the crowd, her hand still in his.
And for the first time, she wondered—
Is he really pretending anymore?
Chapter 6: The CEO's Warning
The elevator ride home was silent.
Too silent.
Anna stood with her arms crossed, heels in her hand, bare feet on cold marble tiles. She had worn the role of "Mrs. Zhou" all night, smiled through gossip, and nodded through fake compliments.
But the words still echoed.
"How much did she cost you?"
Ethan poured himself a glass of whiskey the moment they entered the penthouse.
"You should've let her speak," Anna said finally. "She was only saying what everyone else is thinking."
Ethan's grip on the glass tightened. "Why do you care what anyone thinks?"
"Because I'm not a statue, Ethan!" Her voice rose. "I'm not just your decorative wife. I bleed too."
He turned to face her, his jaw clenched. "This was your choice. You signed the deal."
"Yes. For my mother."
Silence.
Anna shook her head. "I get it. You don't care. You never will."
She turned to walk to her room.
"Don't talk to other men like that again."
She froze. "What?"
"At the gala. That finance guy. Don't smile at him like that again."
Anna slowly turned back to him, her eyes wide.
"Are you… jealous?"
Ethan looked away. "You're my wife. Even if it's just on paper… I don't share."
Anna stepped closer, her voice barely a whisper. "Then don't treat me like I'm temporary."
For a split second, he almost reached for her hand.
But he stopped.
"Go to bed, Anna," he said hoarsely.
She left, but this time—his eyes followed her all the way down the hallway.
Chapter 7: This Is My Home Too
The doorbell rang.
It was 9 a.m. on a Sunday. Anna was in pajamas, hair messy, holding a cup of coffee.
She opened the door—
And nearly dropped the cup.
Clarissa.
Dressed like she was attending fashion week, sunglasses pushed up on her head, lips curled in a smirk.
"Wow," she said, stepping inside without permission. "Didn't expect you'd still be here."
Anna stood her ground. "You weren't invited."
Clarissa circled the living room, eyeing the photos, the marble floors, the wine shelf.
"You really moved in, huh? Playing house must be fun."
Anna set her coffee down. "Say what you came to say."
"Ethan's just… confused," Clarissa said sweetly. "You know how he is. Cold on the outside, lonely on the inside. He always comes back to me eventually."
Anna smiled. "Is that what helps you sleep at night?"
Clarissa's eyes narrowed.
"Let me be clear," Anna continued. "You may know the old Ethan. But the one who gave me this ring, this home, and this name—that Ethan doesn't belong to you anymore."
Just then, the elevator dinged.
Ethan stepped out, briefcase in hand, eyebrows raised.
"Clarissa?"
"Ethan!" she turned, smile bright. "I just came to talk. Nothing serious—"
"Don't come here again," he said flatly.
Her face froze. "I was just—"
He moved past her and stood beside Anna. His hand gently brushed her lower back.
"This is Anna's home," he said. "And she decides who walks through that door. Not me. Definitely not you."
Clarissa's mouth opened. Then shut.
"Goodbye, Clarissa."
The elevator doors closed.
Anna stared at Ethan, stunned. "You didn't have to—"
"She doesn't get to make you feel small in your own home."
He turned to leave.
But this time, she was the one staring after him
Chapter 8: Fever and Frost
Anna didn't remember when the headache started.
The chill had crept in during the night, and by morning, her entire body ached. She shivered under the blanket on the couch, her skin burning and freezing all at once.
Ethan noticed something was wrong the moment he stepped into the living room.
She was curled up tightly, face pale, lips dry.
"Anna?"
No answer. Just a weak groan.
He crouched beside her, touched her forehead—burning hot.
"Why didn't you say anything?" he muttered, frustration flickering in his tone.
She forced her eyes open. "Didn't… want to bother you."
He didn't respond. Instead, he stood up, grabbed his phone.
"Dr. Wen. Now."
—
An hour later, the doctor came and went, leaving behind medication and instructions.
Ethan sat on the edge of the couch, sleeves rolled up, gently pressing a cold towel to her forehead.
"You're being... very gentle," Anna whispered.
"You look like you might die," he said flatly. "I can't afford the PR crisis."
She smiled faintly. "You're still annoying."
"You're still reckless," he said, wringing out the towel. "Next time, speak up."
"Didn't think you'd care."
He paused.
"I don't," he said. But the way he brushed her hair from her face told a different story.
"Sleep," he ordered.
As she drifted off, she felt the blanket shift again—and something warm enveloped her hand.
His hand.
For the first time since their wedding, she felt… safe.
💖
Chapter 9: The Girl in the Photograph
The next morning, Anna was asleep in the guest room.
Ethan stood in the doorway, watching her breathe steadily. The fever had broken, but a faint flush remained on her cheeks.
She looked… peaceful.
He didn't wake her. Instead, he walked into the living room to retrieve his tablet—but something caught his eye.
A small leather notebook had fallen from the couch cushion. It was old, worn, with pages slightly curled.
Curiosity got the better of him.
He opened it.
Inside were faded photos.
A young girl in a school uniform, smiling beside an older woman in a hospital bed. A boy with bandages on his arm. And then—
One picture stopped him.
A younger version of Anna, no more than 10 years old, crouching beside a tree.
Beside her stood a boy. He had a cast on his arm, and a bruised lip. But his eyes—
Ethan's breath caught.
That was him.
Years ago. A time he barely remembered. A summer he spent in a provincial hospital after an accident.
He remembered a girl who used to sit beside him every afternoon.
She brought orange candy. Talked too much. Smiled even when he glared at her.
It was her.
"Why do you still keep that?"
Anna's voice behind him was soft.
Ethan turned. "You knew?"
"I recognized you the day we met. I just thought… you forgot."
He was silent for a long moment. Then he said, almost to himself—
"I don't forget things that matter."
She looked at him, surprised.
He closed the notebook and handed it to her gently.
"Next time," he said, "remind me sooner.
Chapter 10: The Childhood Friend
The doorbell rang again.
Anna frowned—Ethan was at work, and she wasn't expecting anyone.
She opened the door.
"Hi, Anna."
For a moment, she blinked in disbelief. "Nathan?"
Nathan Lee stood there in a dark blue shirt, carrying a small fruit basket and his signature crooked grin.
"Your mom told me you weren't feeling well. Figured I'd drop by."
Anna laughed. "You flew from San Francisco just to check on me?"
"Not just that. I missed annoying you."
Nathan had been her neighbor growing up—a quiet genius who turned into a handsome tech entrepreneur. They'd lost touch after college, but he always felt like home.
"I should warn you," Anna said as she let him in, "the guy I married might not be thrilled."
"Good," Nathan said with a wink. "Let him worry a little."
—
Half an hour later, Ethan walked in.
He froze at the sight.
Anna was laughing. Nathan was on the couch beside her, too close.
"Ethan," Anna stood up quickly. "This is Nathan. An old friend."
Ethan didn't smile. "Clearly."
Nathan extended a hand. "Nice to meet you."
Ethan stared at it. Then shook it slowly. "You always drop in on married women?"
Nathan smirked. "Only the ones I used to love."
Silence fell like thunder.
Anna cleared her throat. "Nathan was just leaving."
"No need," Ethan said, voice ice-cold. "Let him stay. It'll be fun."
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're not jealous, Mr. Zhou?"
Ethan stepped forward, wrapped an arm around Anna's waist.
"Why would I be? She wears my ring."
Anna's heart skipped.
Nathan chuckled. "Well, then. Let's see how long that ring stays on."
💥
Chapter 11: Her Name in the Headlines
The photo spread across the internet like wildfire.
[Tech Genius Nathan Lee Visits Married Heiress Anna Zhou at Private Villa]
[Secret Lovers? CEO Ethan Zhou's Wife Spotted with Handsome Stranger]
[Marriage Contract Exposed?]
Anna stood in the kitchen, staring at her phone. Her fingers trembled slightly.
She hadn't seen it coming. Just one visit. One smile. One fruit basket.
And now, the world thought she was having an affair.
Ethan stormed into the room. His eyes were cold, jaw tight.
"Did you know they followed you?"
"No," she said quietly.
"Then why the hell were you smiling at him like that?"
She flinched. "He's my friend."
"You're my wife."
The words echoed.
Ethan's hands raked through his hair. "I'm handling it."
—
By noon, a press conference was announced.
The media gathered at Zhou Corporation headquarters.
Ethan stood on stage, perfectly composed in a charcoal suit, but his eyes were stormy.
"There have been baseless rumors circulating about my wife, Anna Zhou," he said into the mic. "Let me be clear: I trust her."
Murmurs rose. Cameras clicked wildly.
"Our marriage is none of the public's business," Ethan continued, "but if anyone tries to humiliate her again, I will not remain silent."
A female reporter asked, "Mr. Zhou, is this marriage real or—"
"She's my legal wife," he cut in, voice like steel. "And the only woman I intend to spend my life with."
Silence.
A moment later, the news alert pinged on Anna's phone.
[Ethan Zhou Defends Wife Publicly: "She's the Only One"]
Anna stared at the headline, her heart pounding.
She whispered, "You idiot…"
But she smiled.
Chapter 12: A Past That Can't Be Hidden
Night had fallen, and the city sparkled beneath the glow of neon lights. Cars sped by, but An Wanru sat silently in the back seat, her heart in chaos.
She had just heard something shocking from Su Qing — that Lu Yeshan's ex-girlfriend was the very woman responsible for sending her brother to prison all those years ago.
"He knew all along… and he never told me…" Her fingers tightened around her phone, knuckles turning pale.
When she returned to the villa, Lu Yeshan was already there. He sat casually on the sofa, wearing a soft button-down shirt, a glass of red wine in his hand, calm as ever.
"Where did you go? I called." His voice was slow and measured, but there was a trace of subtle coldness underneath.
"I met with Su Qing." An Wanru raised her eyes, gaze unwavering. "She told me something. Want to hear it?"
Lu Yeshan frowned slightly and put down his wine glass. "What is it?"
"She said your ex was the one who framed my brother. And you knew. You knew all along, didn't you?"
The air turned thick with silence.
Lu Yeshan stood, walked to her slowly, and looked down at her. "I didn't tell you… because the truth is far more complicated than you think."
"Complicated enough for you to lie to me?" Her laugh was cold and bitter. "Do you have any idea? I've trusted you more than anyone in this world."
"An Wanru," he said lowly, brows tightly knit, "I didn't want you to be chained to the past anymore. Do you know how much I've done to pull you out of that pain?"
"But that was never your choice to make!" she snapped, stepping back, her voice trembling. "Who gave you the right to decide for me? What do you take me for?"
He stared at her in silence, weariness flashing in his eyes. "You're the only one I ever wanted to protect."
"Then you shouldn't have lied."
She turned to leave, but as she did, a tear escaped and slid down her cheek.
Lu Yeshan stood still, watching her walk away as if frozen in time.
Soft
Chapter 13: The Silence Between Us
For the next three days, the villa was eerily quiet.
An Wanru moved as if on autopilot—waking, working, eating, sleeping—without exchanging a single word with Lu Yeshan. He didn't try to stop her. Not once. And that silence hurt more than any argument ever could.
At breakfast, she sat across from him, the clink of cutlery between them louder than it should've been. He didn't look up, only glanced at the documents in his hands, pretending not to notice the dark circles beneath her eyes.
And she pretended not to care.
But the silence was unbearable.
That evening, she stood by the balcony, staring into the distant city skyline, lost in thought. The breeze tugged at her silk robe, and for a moment, she looked so fragile, like a paper figure ready to be swept away.
Behind her, footsteps.
She didn't turn.
"I made a mistake," his voice was low, deep, and almost too calm. "I thought keeping you from the truth was a form of protection. But I forgot—what you needed most… was honesty."
Her fingers curled around the railing.
"You didn't forget," she said softly. "You chose control over trust. There's a difference."
He took a step closer, the scent of his cologne mixing with the night air.
"You hate me now?"
She finally turned to face him, her eyes tired, but steady. "No. If I hated you, it'd be easier."
That answer struck deeper than a slap.
Lu Yeshan's chest tightened, but he said nothing. For a long moment, they simply looked at each other—neither able to speak the words they truly wanted to say.
Finally, she looked away.
"I'm going to move out for a while," she whispered. "I need to figure out… what I really want."
His hand clenched, but he nodded.
"Alright."
Just one word. No begging, no stopping her.
Because he knew—if he forced her to stay, he would lose her completely.
As she walked past him, her shoulder brushed his arm. It felt like the end of something… or maybe the beginning of something else.
He stood there long after she left, staring into the same night she had looked into.
And quietly, he made a decision.
If he wanted to win her back, he'd have to give up control… and face his past head-on.
Chapter 14: He Finally Used His Power
For the first time in a long while, Lu Yeshan sat alone in the study—not to review contracts or sign deals, but to open a case file from seven years ago.
The case that destroyed An Wanru's family.
The case that nearly cost her everything.
He lit a cigarette, something he rarely did. The faint curl of smoke drifted upward as he stared at the names on the page—one in particular: Zhao Minyao. His ex-girlfriend. The woman who had once smiled in his arms… and later testified against An Wanru's brother.
He picked up the phone.
"Get me everything you can find on Zhao Minyao's connections to the Shen family, especially her interactions around November seven years ago. No filtering. No limits."
The assistant on the other end paused. "Boss… this will cause a stir. The Shen family's influence—"
"I don't care," Lu Yeshan cut him off. "It's time someone paid for what happened."
He hung up and leaned back. His eyes, usually calm and sharp, were now darkened by something deeper—remorse, perhaps… or rage.
He should have done this earlier.
He should have stood by her side when she cried alone in the courtroom years ago, too proud to ask for help. Instead, he had watched from the shadows, thinking he could protect her by staying silent.
But silence had only caused more damage.
Later that day, Lu Yeshan met with an old contact — a retired investigator who had been quietly digging into corporate corruption cases for years. The man handed him a flash drive and a thick envelope.
"Be careful with this," the investigator warned. "What's in here… it's not just about her brother. It links to something much bigger."
Lu Yeshan didn't flinch. "Then let it burn."
He returned to the villa late at night, the rooms cold and empty without her presence. He walked into her room—untouched, her scent still lingering in the sheets—and sat down at the edge of the bed.
He whispered into the silence:
"Wanru… I'm going to fix this. Even if it means destroying everything I've built."
Outside, the wind picked up. A storm was coming.
But so was the truth.
Chapter 15: Torn but Afraid to Turn Back
It had been five days since she left the villa.
An Wanru sat alone in a quiet café in the old district. The rain outside drew delicate lines down the windowpane, much like her thoughts—blurred, tangled, and too heavy to hold in place.
Across from her, Su Qing sipped her latte carefully, then lowered her voice.
"Wanru… you might want to know this. Lu Yeshan is reopening your brother's case."
An Wanru's fingers stiffened around the coffee cup.
Su Qing continued, watching her closely. "He's using all his contacts. I heard he even approached Old Liu—the investigator who left the force because of how dirty that case got."
For a moment, An Wanru said nothing. Her mind was racing.
Why?
Why would he do that now, after all these years?
"Maybe he's trying to prove something to you," Su Qing added gently. "Or maybe… he just wants to make things right."
Wanru let out a quiet breath, almost a laugh, but it sounded more like a sigh.
"Why now?" she murmured. "Why only after I walked away?"
"Because sometimes," Su Qing said softly, "it takes losing something to realize how much you were willing to fight for it."
The words stung more than she expected.
That night, in the small apartment she was renting, An Wanru sat on the floor with a box of old documents—her brother's letters, court transcripts, yellowed newspaper clippings.
She found one photograph she'd kept all these years. It was a blurry shot, but it showed a young man—her brother—smiling beside her, with Lu Yeshan standing in the background, expression unreadable.
Even back then, he was always watching.
She closed her eyes. Her heart wanted to believe.
That he was doing this not out of guilt, but because he still cared.
That he had always cared.
But trust wasn't so easy anymore.
And love, without trust, was like a house built on sand.
She wrapped her arms around her knees, curling into herself as the rain began to pour outside.
"Lu Yeshan… if you really want to win me back—" she whispered to the dark,
"—don't just dig up the truth. Show me that you've changed. That I'm not just something you want to control."
Far away, in his study, Lu Yeshan stared at a monitor showing a grainy video—security footage from seven years ago.
And in that very moment, both of them, miles apart, were thinking the same thing:
Is it too late… to try again?
Chapter 16: Cracks in the Truth
The drive was quiet.
Lu Yeshan sat in the back seat, eyes fixed on the file in his hand. Beside him lay the flash drive Old Liu had given him—a file that hadn't seen daylight in seven years.
He was on his way to meet someone he never thought he'd seek out again—Zhao Minyao's cousin, a low-level finance analyst who had disappeared from the city soon after the trial. But now, under pressure from Lu Yeshan's men, he had agreed to talk.
In a secluded tea house in the outskirts of the city, the man sat hunched, nervous, glancing at the door every five seconds.
"She told me to keep my mouth shut," he muttered. "Said the Shen family would destroy anyone who talked."
Lu Yeshan didn't blink. "Talk, and I'll make sure you walk out of this with protection. Stay silent, and you'll still be crushed—just slower."
The man hesitated, then finally gave in.
"I have emails. Records. Transfers. The whole thing was staged. Wanru's brother didn't embezzle anything. The missing funds were moved through shell accounts… and then funneled into Shen Zhekai's company."
Lu Yeshan's jaw tightened. Shen Zhekai. The golden heir of the Shen Group. Zhao Minyao's real boyfriend at the time—and the one person powerful enough to rewrite an entire case.
The cousin pushed over a thick folder. "This… this proves he orchestrated everything. And Zhao Minyao? She was paid off to testify."
Lu Yeshan stood up slowly, rage cold and precise in his veins.
Everything clicked into place.
He had once thought the silence of the past was protection. But now he realized—it had only allowed the rot to deepen.
Outside the tea house, rain started to fall again.
He called his assistant. "I want everything you can get on Shen Zhekai. Business dealings, hidden assets, offshore accounts. Leak rumors to the media. Shake him. Let him know… he's no longer safe in the dark."
"Yes, sir."
As he hung up, Lu Yeshan looked into the distance. For the first time, the target was clear. The enemy had a name.
And this time, he wouldn't stop until justice was done.
Chapter 17: She Dialed That Familiar Number
The rain hadn't stopped all day.
An Wanru sat on the living room floor of her apartment, the sky outside a dull, stormy gray. On the coffee table lay the USB drive Su Qing had dropped off—containing copies of the evidence Lu Yeshan had found himself.
She had watched everything. Once. Twice. Three times.
Bank transfers, witness messages, email archives… Words she used to read as cold, logical data now sliced through her like blades.
But the name that hit the hardest was: Shen Zhekai.
So it wasn't just Zhao Minyao who had ruined her brother. It was a man of power. A man no one dared to touch. A man hiding behind influence and silence.
And Lu Yeshan… he had gone after him.
Not with words. Not with empty apologies. But with action.
He had used his power—for her.
An Wanru stood abruptly, pacing toward the balcony. Rain sprayed against her face as she slid open the door, the wind sharp and cold.
Her chest tightened.
He did all this… for me.
The memory of his voice returned, quiet and trembling:
"I thought if I loved you enough, I could carry everything for you…"
She couldn't hold it in anymore.
Her hands trembled as she picked up her phone and dialed the number she had memorized by heart—but had sworn never to use again.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring…
She almost gave up. And then—
"Hello?" came his voice. Calm. Low. Familiar.
Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't speak.
A pause.
Then, gently:
"Wanru… is that you?"
Tears streamed down her face, hot and silent.
"…It's me." Her voice was barely audible. "I saw what you found."
He didn't reply immediately, but she knew he could hear the shaking in her breath.
"Why…" she asked, a whisper full of pain, "why did you wait so long to tell me?"
A beat of silence.
"Because I was afraid," he said softly, "that it was already too late."
She gave a quiet, broken laugh—bittersweet and soft.
"You did well, Lu Yeshan."
In that moment, something inside her—something frozen and stubborn—finally melted.
"Where are you?" he asked.
She hesitated, then answered quietly,
"I'm still in the city… Come find me."
Outside, the wind chime on her balcony let out a soft, clear ring.
And somewhere between silence and rain, the distance between them began to close.
Chapter 18: Their Reunion
The café was small, tucked between a florist and an old bookshop, with warm amber lights and rain tapping gently on the windows.
Lu Yeshan arrived first.
He wore a dark coat, his hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside. As he waited by the window, he glanced down at his watch for the third time—but his expression wasn't impatient, just… tense, restrained.
Then the doorbell chimed.
He looked up.
An Wanru stepped in slowly, umbrella in hand, a soft beige coat wrapped tightly around her. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of them moved.
The world went quiet.
He stood. "Wanru."
She didn't answer immediately. She just looked at him, really looked at him—and saw how tired his eyes were, how much heavier his presence felt.
Not cold. Not distant.
Just… tired. As if he'd been fighting alone for far too long.
She walked toward him. He pulled out the chair, but she shook her head slightly.
Instead, she said softly, "I'm not here to sit. I'm here to ask you something."
He nodded. "Ask."
She met his eyes. "Why didn't you give up on me?"
He didn't answer right away. Then, simply:
"Because I never could."
Silence.
And then, like a thread finally snapping, she stepped forward and hugged him.
It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't fiery. It was quiet—desperate in its stillness. Her arms around his waist, her face buried in his chest. His hands, at first stunned, slowly wrapped around her.
He held her like he was afraid she'd disappear again.
And for a long while, they just stood there, in that small café, rain outside like a lullaby.
"I was so angry," she whispered.
"I know," he murmured.
"I still don't know if I can forgive everything."
"You don't have to," he said, "Just let me try."
They pulled back just slightly, enough to look at each other.
A small, tentative smile curled on her lips. "You haven't changed. Still so sure of yourself."
But before he could respond, she added—almost too softly—
"…But you look lonelier now."
He didn't deny it.
From across the street, through a foggy car window, a figure lowered a camera lens.
Click.
Another photo, then the engine quietly started.
Someone was watching.
Chapter 19: Shadows Closing In
The rain had stopped.
Lu Yeshan walked beside An Wanru under the streetlights, the air damp and cool. The world felt unusually still—like the calm just before something broke.
Neither of them spoke much.
They didn't need to.
Sometimes, after too much pain, silence became the most comforting language. Their fingers brushed. She didn't pull away.
But someone was watching.
Across the street, a black car idled by the curb. Inside, a man in a baseball cap pressed a phone to his ear.
"She met with him," he said. "Just like you predicted."
On the other end, a cold voice replied, "Let them have their little reunion. I want her watched. Not harmed—yet."
The man nodded. "Understood, Mr. Shen."
Back on the sidewalk, An Wanru suddenly slowed her steps.
Lu Yeshan noticed. "What's wrong?"
She glanced over her shoulder, frowning slightly. "Nothing. Just… felt like someone was watching us."
His gaze sharpened immediately. He looked around, scanning the street, the corners, the shadows.
"Get in the car," he said quietly.
She didn't argue.
They got into his vehicle, and he locked the doors. The windows were tinted, but his instincts were ringing.
He started the engine and pulled out slowly, eyes on the rearview mirror.
A moment later, he saw it—a car turning at the same corner, keeping just the right distance.
Too precise. Too cautious.
They were being followed.
He reached for his phone. "Xiao Zhou, I need a tail check. We've got company—possible Shen surveillance."
On the passenger seat, An Wanru's fingers tightened around her coat. "Do you think it's… him?"
"I'm sure of it," he said. "He knows we're working together again."
She exhaled slowly, the tension tightening in her chest. "This time, I'm not running."
He glanced at her—and for the first time in days, something like a smile touched his lips.
"Good. Because I'm not letting you go."
But even as they spoke, the car behind them didn't slow. And neither of them noticed the small GPS tracker quietly blinking beneath the bumper.
They thought they were back in control.
But the shadows were already closing in.
Chapter 20: The Day Everything Broke
Dawn broke in silver light.
In the conference room of a luxury hotel, journalists gathered like sharks smelling blood. The air was thick with tension. On the projector screen stood a name few dared to touch—Shen Zhekai.
An Wanru stood near the podium, shoulders straight, eyes clear.
Lu Yeshan was beside her, calm and poised, his presence as cold and commanding as ever—but this time, he wasn't here for a business deal.
He was here for justice.
"Thank you all for coming," An Wanru began. "Today, I will present evidence that proves my brother, An Cheng, was falsely accused and imprisoned seven years ago… and who was behind it."
Gasps stirred in the crowd.
She clicked the remote, and the screen changed—showing a series of documents, transaction records, fake witness testimonies, and emails tied directly to Shen Zhekai and Zhao Minyao.
"This is not just a case of corporate fraud. It's a personal vendetta, covered up by wealth and power," she said. "But no amount of money can erase the truth."
The room erupted into flashes and questions, but she remained steady.
Across the city, Shen Zhekai watched the broadcast with a dark, twisted smile.
"Impressive," he muttered. "But too late."
He snapped his fingers. A bodyguard stepped forward.
"Make the call. If I'm going down, I'll take her with me."
But just as the man reached for the phone, the door burst open. Police stormed in.
"Shen Zhekai, you're under arrest for obstruction of justice, bribery, and perjury."
His face finally cracked—not rage, but disbelief.
"Lu Yeshan," he growled.
Back at the hotel, as the press conference ended, An Wanru walked out onto the rooftop. The city stretched beneath her—gray, busy, alive.
Footsteps behind her.
She turned.
Lu Yeshan stood there, the morning wind catching his coat. He didn't speak—just stepped forward and pulled her into his arms.
This time, she didn't pull away.
"I promised I'd fix it," he whispered into her hair.
"And you did," she murmured. "But more than that… you stood with me."
They stood like that for a long moment, the past finally behind them, the future uncertain but open.
No more lies.
No more running.
Just them—after everything.
🌟THE END