I thought he was joking. A stranger offering marriage in the middle of a rainstorm? Absurd.But the way Lu Shiyuan said it—calm, assured, like a deal already sealed—made my heart race in spite of myself.
"You can't be serious," I muttered, pulling my damp coat tighter. "Marriage isn't something you toss around like a business contract."
He tilted his head, eyes glinting beneath the lamplight. "Isn't it? Marriage is the oldest contract in the world. Yours just got broken. I'm offering you one that comes with power, protection… and revenge."
Revenge.The word lodged deep, echoing louder than the rain.
I swallowed, my voice barely steady. "And what do you get out of it?"
For the first time, his smile vanished. The warmth drained, leaving behind the sharp edge of something dangerous. "You."
My breath caught. Not because I believed him—no man like him fell for broken women shivering under café awnings—but because the way he said it carried weight. As if he meant every syllable.
He straightened, offering me the umbrella. "Come with me, Miss Shen. Tonight doesn't have to end in humiliation. Tomorrow, they'll regret ever discarding you."
I should've refused. I should've clung to pride and walked away. But I had nothing left to lose.
"…Fine." My voice cracked, but my gaze held his. "I'll marry you."
His car was waiting at the curb, sleek and black, the kind of vehicle that screamed wealth without a word. Inside, the leather seats still smelled new. He handed me a towel, his movements unhurried, as though ferrying abandoned brides was his nightly routine.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"To draft our contract." His tone was light, but his eyes were sharp, assessing me like an investment. "You want revenge. I want a wife. It's a fair trade."
I twisted the towel in my lap. "Why me?"
"There are a thousand women in this city who'd kill to marry you."
"I don't want them," he said simply. "I want you."
I stared at him, searching for cracks, but his face was unreadable. Either he was the best liar I'd ever met, or he really was insane.
We arrived at his penthouse shortly after midnight. The building itself loomed over the city, glass and steel gleaming even in the storm. Inside, the marble lobby smelled faintly of lilies, and a private elevator whisked us up to the top floor.
His home was spacious, modern, and immaculate, every line sharp and deliberate. The kind of place where nothing was accidental—like its owner.
A stack of documents waited on a polished table. He poured me a glass of water before sitting across from me.
"Read it."
The contract was brief.
Marriage would be legally registered.
In public, we would act as husband and wife.
I would have access to his resources and protection.
In return, I was to stand by his side, no matter what storms came.
My hand trembled as I turned the pages. "And when does it end?"
"When you no longer want revenge," he said. "Or when I no longer want you."
His eyes locked on mine, warm again, almost gentle. "But I don't think either will happen soon."
I laughed bitterly. "You don't know me at all."
"I know enough." He slid a pen across the table. "You want to stop hurting. You want them to kneel. I can give you that. The only question is—do you have the courage to take it?"
The pen felt heavy in my hand. I thought of Zeyan's cold eyes, of Rou's mocking smile, of my father's turned back. My chest burned with the memory.
And then I signed.
The next morning, the city buzzed with news. Shen Rou's wedding to Xu Zeyan was splashed across every headline. "The Tragic Love Story," the papers called it. "The dying beauty and her devoted groom."
No one mentioned me—the abandoned bride. That silence stung worse than gossip.
But by noon, the silence broke.
Because when the cameras rolled at the hotel ballroom, when the guests turned toward the entrance expecting a pale, fragile bride clinging to her groom's arm…They saw me.
I walked into the hall in a scarlet dress that clung to every curve, my hair swept high, diamonds glittering at my ears. My hand rested lightly on the arm of Lu Shiyuan, who looked devastating in his tailored black suit. His smile was warm, but the aura around him was lethal, the kind that made people step back without realizing it.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Murmurs spread like wildfire.
"Isn't that Shen Liya?"
"Didn't her fiancé leave her?"
"Wait—is she with President Lu?!"
I kept my chin high, every step deliberate. The humiliation of last night was gone. In its place was steel.
At the front of the hall, Zeyan's expression curdled the moment he saw me. His hand froze on Rou's waist, his jaw tightening.
"Liya…" He whispered it, but I caught it across the room.
I let my gaze sweep over him—once the center of my world, now a stranger in a cheap play. Then I smiled, the same smile he'd given me when he discarded me.
The cameras caught it all.
By the time Shiyuan pulled out a chair for me, settling me at his side like I belonged there, the narrative had already shifted.
Not abandoned. Not pitiful.Upgraded.
As the ceremony dragged on, Rou's hand trembled in Zeyan's grasp. Her eyes darted to me, wide with disbelief, her painted lips trembling.
This was supposed to be my shame. Instead, it was her wedding being overshadowed, her groom's attention fractured, her triumph stolen.
I leaned toward Shiyuan, my voice low. "You really enjoy theatrics."
His lips curved close to my ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down my spine. "Only when they serve a purpose."
"What purpose does this serve?"
His gaze swept across the hall, landing briefly on Zeyan before returning to me. "Showing them that you were never theirs to discard."
The words lodged deep, dangerously comforting.
Zeyan's eyes never left me the entire ceremony. By the time the vows ended, his face was carved with something I hadn't seen before.
Regret.
And I savored it like the finest wine.
But as the night ended, and the lights of the ballroom dimmed, Shiyuan took my hand, his smile unreadable.
"This is just the beginning, Mrs. Lu," he murmured.
Mrs. Lu.
The title rolled over me, foreign and frightening, yet laced with power.
And for the first time in twenty-four hours, I didn't feel like I was drowning.
I felt like I was finally learning to swim.