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.

Silence.

The air in the room felt too still, too heavy. Leah sat frozen, the weight of her decision settling on her shoulders like cold iron.

This room was stunning marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline, gold trim on every surface. It smelled like expensive cologne and polish, like power and distance.

It didn't matter. No amount of luxury could hide what this was.

A transaction.

She took a shaky breath and gathered her things her phone, a worn leather notebook, and her cracked purse. As she moved to leave, the elevator doors opened, and a tall woman in a navy pencil skirt stepped out, clipboard in hand.

"Mrs. Lu," she said briskly.

Leah flinched. "That's... going to take some getting used to."

The woman gave her a tight, unreadable smile. "I'm Amanda, Mr. Lu's executive assistant. Here's your schedule for the week, along with the key card for your temporary suite. The penthouse will be available tomorrow afternoon."

Leah accepted the folder, her fingers brushing Amanda's by accident. The assistant was icy cold and perfectly efficient just like her boss.

"There's also a nondisclosure agreement inside," Amanda added. "Sign and return it before tomorrow, please."

Leah nodded silently.

Amanda gave a curt nod in return, then turned and disappeared back into the elevator without waiting for further questions.

So that was it. No welcome. No tour. No warm words.

Just orders and silence.

Leah stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the hotel floor. As the car descended, she stared at her reflection in the mirrored walls.

She looked the part, at least. A rented designer dress clung to her slim frame, her dark hair styled in soft waves, makeup light but flawless. On the outside, she looked like someone who belonged in Xavier Lu's world.

But inside?

She was still the girl who sketched portraits in the back of coffee shops for twenty bucks a pop. Still the sister who stayed up all night googling rare medications. Still Leah.

And now... now she was married.

The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open into a lavish hallway lined with expensive artwork and thick carpeting. She found the room number Amanda had noted and unlocked the door with the key card.

The suite was breathtaking marble floors, crystal chandeliers, a grand piano in the corner.

Leah didn't care.

She dropped everything, sank into the velvet couch, and buried her face in her hands.

What had she done?