Married To The Cold CEO

Leah Chen's fingers trembled as she signed the last page of the marriage contract.

It was done.

She was now legally married to a man who hadn't so much as looked her in the eye since she walked into the private suite forty minutes ago.

Across the polished glass table, Xavier Lu flipped the pages with cold efficiency. The faintest frown touched his lips as he scanned her signature, then set the documents aside like they were just another deal in a long line of ruthless negotiations.

To him, maybe they were.

To her, they were a lifeline.

Xavier stood tall and commanding in a charcoal-gray suit that fit like it was tailored for a Greek god. His black hair was slicked back with meticulous precision, his jaw clean-shaven, every line of his posture exuding power and detachment. His dark eyes cold and unreadable met hers for the first time.

She froze under that gaze. It wasn't just the intensity. It was the complete lack of warmth. Xavier Lu didn't look at people. He assessed them. Like a problem to be solved, or a threat to be neutralized.

"You'll move into the penthouse tomorrow," he said, voice clipped and devoid of inflection. "My assistant will deliver your schedule, wardrobe requirements, and the key card."

Leah nodded slowly, her voice failing her for a beat. "Right. Thank you."

He didn't acknowledge her gratitude. Instead, he stepped away from the table, his hands slipping into his trouser pockets.

"You'll accompany me to social events, when necessary," he continued. "Dinners. Galas. Family appearances. You will not speak to the media. No interviews. No public displays unless prearranged."

She nodded again, stiffly.

"In return, your sister's medical care will be fully funded, and a monthly allowance will be deposited into your account for the duration of the agreement."

There it was the true reason she was standing here, heart pounding, spine straight, trying not to fall apart.

Emma.

Her little sister, her only family left. Eighteen years old and battling a rare immune disorder that was slowly draining her life and their savings. Leah had fought tooth and nail for years. Selling art, taking jobs she hated, living hand to mouth. She'd begged banks, begged relatives, begged strangers.

Then came Xavier's offer. One year. No romance. No strings. A marriage of convenience for reasons he wouldn't fully explain.

In return, he'd save Emma.

Leah had said yes before she could talk herself out of it.

"I understand," she said finally, lifting her chin. Her voice came out more stable than she felt.

Xavier's gaze lingered on her for half a second longer than necessary. Was that a flicker of curiosity in his expression? Or was she just imagining it?

Then, without another word, he turned and walked toward the door of the private lounge.

"It's just a contract, Leah," he said, back still to her. "Don't expect anything else."

The door clicked shut behind him.