PRESIDENT'S CONTRACT WIFE

Chapter 1 She doesn't love money Nina Morrison finishes her late-night shift, exhaustion weighing heavily on her. She changes out of her waitress uniform and stares through the rain-streaked window. Her heart sinks. It's well past the last bus, and she knows a taxi would cost more than five dollars-money she needs for her father's dinner. Sighing, she braces herself for the long walk home. Pulling her thin coat tighter around her, Nina steps into the storm. Cold rain pelts her face, and gusts of wind whip her hair into a mess. Her shoes, already cracked and worn, squelch with each step, but she presses forward, determined. "I have to get home," she mutters under her breath, ignoring the sting of water seeping into her shoes. Suddenly, a blinding flash of headlights cuts through the downpour. Tires screech on the wet pavement, and the loud "Creak!" of brakes fills the air. Nina freezes as a silver car careens toward her, barely stopping in time. Her body je**s, and before she can react, the force of the near-collision knocks her to the ground. Pain explodes in her knees and arms as she hits the pavement hard. Wincing, she struggles to push herself up, but her legs tremble beneath her, refusing to cooperate. The car door slams, and a man storms toward her, his voice a growl. "Are you crazy, you bi**h? Trying to get yourself k**led?" Nina looks up, her vision blurred from the rain and pain, but fury quickly replaces her shock. "You ran a red light!" she shouts, her voice shaking with both fear and rage. "You think because you're rich you can break the law? I've got your license plate. I'll report you!" The driver sneers, but before he can respond, the car window rolls down slowly. A deep, commanding voice cuts through the tension. "Give her $100,000. Let's be done with it." The driver instantly switches tones, bowing his head slightly. "Yes, sir." Without warning, a thick pile of cash is thrown at Nina, the bills slapping her cheek as they hit the wet ground around her. The in**lt stings more than the impact. Her hands shake as she glares at the driver, his smirk daring her to pick up the money like a beggar. Rage surges through her. With a swift, furious motion, Nina grabs the crumpled banknotes and hurls them back at the driver. "I don't need your filthy money!" she yells, her voice cutting through the rain. The bills hit him square in the back, and he spins around, eyes burning with fury, his fists clenching. "Ryan!" The voice from the car halts the driver's advance. The man in the backseat speaks with a chilling calm that instantly commands attention. Nina looks into the car, her eyes locking onto the man's face. His features are sharp, almost too perfect, like a sculpture carved from stone. The streetlight glints off his black eyes, which glimmer with amusement. "Come here," he says, his voice low but compelling, his finger beckoning her forward. Against her better judgment, Nina finds herself drawn to the car, her feet moving as if under a spell. Her heart pounds in her ch**t, a mixture of fear and confusion rising inside her. Just as she nears the window, his hand shoots out like a viper, grabbing her chin in a painful grip. "What the-" Nina gasps, trying to wrench herself free, but his hold is ironclad. The man's lips curl into a mocking smile. "How could there be a woman who doesn't love money?" His voice drips with condescension, as if she's just another pawn in a game only he understands. Nina's eyes blaze with defiance. "Let go of me!" she spits, her voice shaking with fury and humiliation. "You think you can get away with this just because you're rich? I'll go to the police! You ran a red light and now you're ha**ssing me!" His grip tightens, and Nina feels the sharp pain shooting up her jaw. She winces but refuses to look away, glaring at him with every ounce of strength she can muster. The man's dark eyes narrow, and for a moment, something flickers in his gaze-something cold and dangerous. "A brave little mouse," he murmurs, almost amused, before finally releasing her. Nina stumbles back, barely catching herself as her legs give way. Her heart races, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she rubs her aching jaw. Before she can respond, a sleek gold card is tossed from the window, landing in a small puddle at her feet. "Take that to the police if you want," the man says, his tone dripping with arrogance. "Or if you need medical care, you can come find me at Gray Group." Chapter 2 Not for me A Lamborghini sped off, splashing muddy water onto Nina Morrison's already drenched clothes. She sat in the dirt, her clothes clinging to her body, feeling the cold seeping in. Tears of frustration welled up and spilled down her cheeks. Grabbing the golden business card the man had tossed at her, she tried to tear it, but the thick, glossy material resisted her efforts. Even his business card mocked her! Her phone rang suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts. She shoved the card into her pocket and checked the screen. The name made her stomach twist: Doris Lauren, her stepmother. "Nina Morrison! Do you know what time it is? Why aren't you home yet? You want us all to starve?" Before Nina could answer, Doris's sharp voice rattled her ears. Of course, she would be home by now if it hadn't been for the accident. Her heart tightened at the thought of her bedridden father. With a grunt, she pushed herself off the ground and limped toward home, her soaked skirt clinging to her legs, and her wet hair sticking to her skin. The night wind bit at her, sending shivers down her spine. She pushed open the creaky gate and stepped inside, her shoes squelching on the floor. As she bent to take them off, she heard the familiar angry voice coming from inside. "Eat, eat, eat! That's all you're good for! Can't earn a dime but sure know how to pile up debts!" Nina winced. Her stepmother was berating her father again. The words stung like a s**p, but she swallowed her emotions, hurrying to change out of her wet clothes. As soon as she was dry, she darted into the kitchen, washing her hands quickly and beginning to cook. Her hands moved swiftly, years of habit guiding her through the motions. In no time, she laid out a simple meal on the table-mixed pickles, stir-fried vegetables, and tomato egg soup, the only dish with any hint of meat. She ladled out a bowl of rice and soup, picked up some vegetables, and carried the tray to the back room. Her father, Barry Morrison, lay on the bed, his eyes half-open, his mind foggy. Ever since the collapse of the Morrison Group and his heart attack, he had been in a semi-comatose state. Gently, Nina cradled his head and fed him spoonful by spoonful. Each labored breath he took tugged at her heart, deepening the ache inside her. The piercing voice of her stepsister Grace cut through the silence. "Mom, we're supposed to eat this? For dinner?" Nina glanced toward the kitchen, recognizing Grace's voice. She hadn't been around much since their father's bankruptcy. Why was she here now? "If you don't like it, then go find yourself a rich husband. Then you can eat whatever you want," Doris snapped, her tone just as venomous with her own daughter. After dinner, Nina washed the dishes mechanically, her mind wandering. She showered, changed into fresh clothes, and started on the pile of laundry. "Nina! Where did you get this?" Grace's excited voice startled her. Nina turned to see Grace holding the business card-the one from earlier. "Oh, I got hit by a car today. The driver gave me that card," Nina said nonchalantly, folding a shirt. Grace's eyes widened. "Do you know who this is?" she nearly shrieked, waving the card like it was made of gold. "Lucien Gray! He's the president of Gray Group!" Nina blinked, unfazed by Grace's dramatic reaction. "And?" "The Gray Group is one of the biggest corporations in the world! They own everything-property, entertainment, oil, even mi**tary arms! Lucien Gray is the most powerful man in the world, and he's rich as sin! He's also the number one guy every woman wants to marry according to POWER magazine!" Nina stared at her, unimpressed. Grace's enthusiasm seemed almost si**y to her. So what if he was rich and powerful? "Okay. What's that got to do with me?" she asked, stifling a yawn. Grace looked at her in disbelief. "This card means you can get into T.S. Private Club-Lucien Gray's personal hangout! Do you even know what that means?" But Nina wasn't paying attention. There was still laundry to be done, and this conversation was wasting time. "Uh-huh," she mumbled absently, reaching for another wet garment. Chapter 3 A Dearing idea At night, the T.S. Club is dazzling with lights. A seven-story firework fountain sprays mist into the air, synchronized to elegant music. Fancy cars line the entrance, while men and women, dressed in the latest designer fashions, stride confidently toward the golden glass doors. Amid the luxury vehicles, a taxi comes to a sudden stop. Out steps Grace Lauren, her long legs emerging from the door first. Dressed in a tight black dress, her wavy brown hair falls down her back, and her bright red lips curl into a smile. With her stunning figure, she exudes confidence and al**re. The doorman, noticing the taxi and Grace's entrance, sneers slightly. "Another woman looking for a rich husband," he mutters under his breath as he watches her approach. Grace walks toward the door, her hips swaying, but the doorman steps in front of her. "Miss, this is a private club. Only members are allowed inside," he says coldly, though maintaining a polite façade. Without a word, Grace holds up a golden card, the light catching its surface. The doorman's eyes widen. A golden card-one that can only be held by someone connected to Lucien Gray himself. His attitude changes in an instant. "My apologies, miss. Please, go right in. Enjoy your evening," he says, bowing slightly as he steps aside. Grace flashes a satisfied smile, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she strides through the golden doors. As soon as she enters, a voice calls her name from the side. "Grace!" Surprised, Grace turns to see Ryan, an old high school classmate. "Ryan! What are you doing here?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. She remembers Ryan as a guy who once pursued her, though she had never paid him any attention. Ryan beams with pride. "I'm driving for the president of Gray now! We're here for a private party tonight." Grace's heart skips a beat at the mention of Lucien Gray. "Lucien Gray? You mean the president himself?" Her eyes sparkle with excitement. She had come to the T.S. Club to try her luck, but this-this was fate delivering her an opportunity on a silver platter. Later, inside a dimly lit suite, Ryan is pressing close to Grace. The room is filled with the heavy scent of de**re. "Ryan," Grace whispers, her voice low and breathless, "you promised. You have to help me." Ryan smirks. "I can slip something into the president's drink, but that's all I can do. He only sl**ps with vi**ins, though." Grace's body freezes, her breath catching in her throat. "What? He only sl**ps with vi**ins?" Ryan chuckles. "Yeah. Didn't you know? The president's got a rule-no matter how beautiful the woman is, if she's not pure, she's not worth his time. And even then, she only gets seven days with him before he moves on." Grace feels a chill run through her veins. Seven days? Vi**ins only? This wasn't part of her plan. She grits her teeth, her mind racing. How could she get around this? But then, an idea forms in her mind-a bold and dangerous idea. Her lips curve into a sly smile as she pulls back slightly. Later, as the two lie in the aftermath of their encounter, Grace passes Ryan a small pill. "Here. Make sure you do your part, Ryan. If I become Lucien Gray's woman, I'll make sure you're rewarded." Ryan hesitates for a moment but ultimately nods, taking the pill from her. Meanwhile, at a bustling restaurant across town, Nina Morrison is finishing up her shift. Her phone vibrates in her pocket, pulling her attention away from the customers. She answers quickly. "Hello?" A man's voice comes through the line. "Your sister's drunk. Come get her from room 1806 at the T.S. C**b." "Wait, what?" Nina asks, confused. But before she can say anything more, the call disconnects. She tries calling back, but no one picks up. Nina frowns, anxiety bubbling in her ch**t. Grace never mentioned going to the T.S. Club. Why would she be there? And dr**k, no less? Nina hurriedly explains the situation to her coworker Jennie, who offers to cover her tables. Throwing on her jacket, Nina rushes out into the cool night air and hails a taxi. As she speeds toward the club, her mind is filled with worry. Something didn't feel right. Grace was always calculating, always after something-but this? Going to the T.S. C**b and getting drunk wasn't like her. What had she gotten herself into this time? Nina leans back in the taxi seat, her heart pounding as the lights of the city blur outside the window. Whatever mess Grace had gotten herself into, Nina would have to clean it up. And she had a sinking feeling that tonight, things were about to get a whole lot worse. Chapter 4 Dearing result In the dimly lit lobby of the T.S. Club, the thick, perfumed air clung to the walls like an unseen haze. Nina, dressed in a faded blue dress that clung loosely to her slim frame, hurried inside. Her straight black hair swayed behind her, and her wide, clear eyes darted nervously as she approached the doorman. The contrast of her anxious expression against her youthful, tender features was striking, and her small, pale hands twisted the fabric of her dress as she approached. The doorman, a tall man with a stoic demeanor, gave a nod as she approached. Behind his silent acknowledgment, his mind churned with judgment. "Ah, yes, just like Ryan, Lucien Gray's driver, said. This is the woman set to meet Mr. Gray tonight," he thought, eyeing her faded attire with mild distaste, yet recognizing her natural beauty. She was the type that would easily attract the attention of a man like Lucien. "Excuse me! How do I get to Room 1806?" Nina's voice broke through her own unease, her tone urgent. The doorman's lips curled into a polite smile. "Are you Miss Nina?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of gallantry that betrayed his inner thoughts. "Pure as water," he mused. "Lucien Gray is a lucky man to have her tonight." "Yes," she replied quickly. "How do I get there?" "The elevator to the left," the doorman gestured, his voice smooth. "It will take you to the 18th floor. Room 1806 is at the end of the corridor, the largest suite there." Nina muttered a hurried thank you and rushed toward the elevator, her breath quickening as her questions mounted. Why had a strange man called her about her sister? Why would Grace be at a place like this, a high-class club so far out of their reach? The elevator doors slid open silently, and Nina stepped inside, her heart pounding harder with each passing floor. As the doors opened on the 18th floor, she stepped out into a hallway lined with expensive wallpaper and priceless paintings from around the world. Normally, such an elegant setting would have left her wide-eyed with wonder, but tonight, her focus was singular-finding Grace. Her steps on the thick, plush white carpet were noiseless, adding to the growing tension in the silent corridor. The atmosphere felt oppressive, the air thick with something intangible, and her nerves tingled with each step toward the door marked 1806. Her pulse raced as she reached the suite at the end of the hall, her breathing shallow. She raised her trembling hand and knocked gently on the door. Silence. Her heart skipped a beat, and she knocked again, harder this time. Still nothing. Her anxiety deepened. With a shaking hand, she pushed the door, startled when it creaked open. It wasn't locked. The room beyond was shrouded in darkness, a void where sound and light seemed to vanish. Nina hesitated at the threshold, her instincts screaming to turn back, but worry for her sister propelled her forward. "Sis? Grace, are you there?" Nina's voice echoed faintly in the oppressive silence. No answer, only the vague sound of someone's ragged breathing, as if they were in pain. Her heart lurched. "Poor Grace, she must be drunk," Nina thought as she crept forward, her fingers outstretched toward the faint sound. She could imagine her sister, slumped on the floor or sprawled across the bed, needing to be taken home. Nina's mind raced, planning to get her back safely, to sober her up. The breaths grew louder. Closer. Suddenly, a wave of unease washed over Nina, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Something was wrong. Before she could react, large, hot hands wrapped around her from behind, their grip firm and unrelenting. "Ah! Who are you?" she shrieked, panic seizing her as she struggled violently. These hands weren't Grace's-they were male, and their touch was rough, suffocating. Nina's breath hitched as the man pressed against her, his body overpowering hers. She thrashed, kicking her legs, but his muscular frame trapped her effortlessly. His hands ro**ed her body, and she screamed in terror. "Let go of me!" Her voice broke as her struggles became frantic, but the man remained silent, his actions more aggressive. Desperation clawed at her ch**t, and she bit down hard on his lips, tasting bl**d. He let out a low gr**t of pain, but instead of releasing her, he tightened his grip. "No!" Nina's scream was raw, her voice hoarse. She clawed at his face, at his arms, her nails digging into his flesh, but it was futile. He was unyielding. In the dark, his cruel strength overwhelmed her, his assault brutal and merciless. Time seemed to blur, and the agony that followed shattered her. The pain was blinding, ripping through her body and mind. Her cries faded into the heavy silence of the room, and all that remained was the dull throb of her broken spirit. A tear slid down Nina's cheek, her soul drowning in the darkness surrounding her. She was lost, her innocence stolen, her world irreparably shattered. The weight of the moment pressed down on her until all she could feel was numbness-the ache of loss etched deep into her very being. Chapter 5 Where did you go The early morning sunshine, with a soft touch of warmth, spilled through the gauze curtains onto the luxurious queen bed. Nina's long, silky hair, now tangled, sprawled across the snow-white sheets, her body littered with br**ses. Her lips, pink but stained with traces of dried bl**d, contrasted with her otherwise flawless face. She stirred with a soft gr**n, a dull ache coursing through her limbs. The pain in her head pulsed with each heartbeat, and as she blinked her bright, clear eyes open, a cold realization washed over her. Her hand instinctively flew to her mouth, stifling the scream lodged in her throat. Her eyes widened in terror when she noticed the man lying beside her, his presence jolting a flood of memories from the previous night. It all came rushing back like a nightmare she couldn't escape. Her body shuddered uncontrollably, each recollection making her tremble. Tears welled up and fell, unbidden, sliding down her bruised cheeks. She scrambled off the bed, her legs weak and trembling as she stood. With shaky hands, she reached for her dress, only to find it t**n to shreds on the floor. What should I do? Her thoughts raced wildly. The man beside her could wake at any moment. She had to get out-now. Her eyes darted across the room, scanning the mess of clothes. Among the debris, she spotted a white male shirt. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hide her ex**sed skin, and moved carefully off the b*d, crawling on her knees toward the shirt. Her heart pounded in her ch**t as she gingerly picked it up, making the smallest movements, terrified that any sound might wake the stranger. The man remained motionless, his breathing steady. Relief washed over Nina, allowing her to breathe a little easier, though the fear lingered in the pit of her stomach. She tied a strip of her torn dress around her waist, fashioning the oversized shirt into a makeshift dress. Her fingers combed through her tangled hair as she spared one final glance at the man's sl**ping form. Then, without a second thought, she fled from the suite. In a dark, dilapidated room in a rundown urban area, Nina frantically changed out of the shirt. Its fabric still carried the scent of the man-cold, dominating, and suffocating. The faint smell was a cruel reminder of the horrors she'd endured, and it clung to her skin like a curse. The scenes from last night replayed in her mind, and her hands trembled as she hastily st**pped it off. She had lost everything-her innocence, her control-yet she didn't even know who the man was. Suddenly, the door banged open, the noise echoing through the small room. Nina flinched violently, her heart skipping a beat. Grace stormed in, her perfume overwhelming the stale air. "Nina! Where were you last night? You didn't come home!" Grace's voice was sharp, tinged with mock anger. She surveyed Nina, taking in the sight of her half-na**d body, the br**ses, the hi**eys littering her skin. Beneath her mask of concern, a flicker of satisfaction gleamed in Grace's eyes, though it was laced with jealousy. Grace knew the ap**odisiac she'd used on Nina was potent. The man who had ra**ged Nina last night had been dr**ged as well. Grace smirked inwardly. Nina might have suffered, but Lucien Gray was the one who had touched her-Lucien, the man every woman longed to be with. Grace's narrow eyes gleamed with malice, though she hid her true feelings behind a forced smile. Nina's heart sank at her sister's words. Does she not know? Panic tightened in her ch**t. Someone had led her to the club under Grace's name, but she couldn't reveal what had happened. The shame, the confusion-no, she couldn't tell anyone. She didn't want another person to know. Her gaze dropped, her long lashes casting shadows across her pale cheeks. She looked fragile, broken, yet there was a haunting beauty in her pain. "It was a classmate's birthday," Nina whispered, pulling the shirt tighter around her body. Her voice was small, trembling with the effort of maintaining composure. "We celebrated all night." Grace's lips curled into a dark, cruel smile. Nina was hiding the truth, and it suited her just fine. Less explaining to do later. Her eyes caught sight of the white shirt Nina wore, and without warning, she snatched it from her. She examined the garment, noting its high-quality fabric and elegant craftsmanship. It was just a plain white shirt, yet the refinement in its design spoke of wealth and status. At the cuff, embroidered in fine gold thread, were the initials "L.G." Lucien Gray's initials. Grace's heart skipped. This shirt belonged to him. Lucien had given it to Nina? Jealousy surged through her, mingling with nervousness. Her voice sharpened as she demanded, "Nina! Where did you get this shirt?" Chapter 6 Such bad taste Nina's heart raced as she quickly realized that Grace could never learn the truth. The thought of her sister exposing her secret to the world sent a wave of dread crashing over her. Grace, with her spiteful nature, would take any opportunity to humiliate her, and Nina couldn't bear the shame. "Oh, well, I borrowed it from my classmates. I stained my clothes last night..." Nina's voice wavered slightly as she spoke, her eyes darting nervously to Grace's face, trying to gauge her reaction. She knew she was walking a fine line, and any misstep could unravel everything. Grace's eyes narrowed, considering Nina's words. After a moment of silence, she seemed to reach a conclusion, her lips curling into a sly smile. Clearly, Nina had no idea who Lucien Gray really was. Grace's pulse quickened with excitement. This was her chance. "Nina, this shirt is a little dirty. I'll take it and wash it for you," Grace offered, her tone unusually sweet. Nina blinked, confused. Grace never did housework. Ever. Suspicion flickered in her mind as she watched her sister leave the room with the shirt clutched in her hands. What is she up to? She wondered, but soon shrugged it off, relieved to be rid of the man's shirt. She was going to throw it away anyway. It was a symbol of everything she wanted to forget. The sleek glass façade of Gray's Company Building shimmered in the sunlight, its 27 stories towering over the bustling city below. Inside, the front hall exuded understated luxury, with elegant decor chosen to reflect the company's powerful reputation. It was said that Lucien Gray himself had designed the layout, each detail a testament to his impeccable taste. Grace Lauren strutted through the lobby, her h*ps swaying with calculated precision. Her tight, deep V-neck dress hugged her cu**es, flaunting her figure. Today, she had chosen her most expensive outfit, confident it would catch every eye. She knew how to draw attention, and she reveled in it. The young receptionist glanced at Grace with a knowing look, barely concealing her disdain. She had seen women like Grace before-many of them. Another one of the president's so-called lovers, she thought. "Miss, how may I help you?" the receptionist asked, her tone professional but distant. Grace, with a haughty tilt of her chin, replied, "I'm here to see Lucien Gray." She tossed her hair over her shoulder, her eyes flickering toward the male staff passing by, enjoying the way they looked at her. "Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist inquired politely. Grace rolled her eyes. "Do I need an appointment? Tell the president that the woman who spent the night with him is here." Her voice dripped with arrogance. In his office on the top floor, Lucien Gray leaned back in his chair, listening to his secretary's voice over the phone. He had a full schedule of meetings today and wasn't in the mood to entertain some woman's nonsense. His brow furrowed in irritation, his finger hovering over the button to dismiss her. But then, the secretary mentioned last night. Lucien's lips curled into a wicked smile. So she came after all, he thought, amused. There had been something different about her, a certain rawness that set her apart from the usual women he entertained. If other women were rich French cuisine, she had been like a simple bowl of porridge-unexpectedly satisfying in its plainness. He was intrigued. "Send her up," Lucien said, his tone light but commanding. "President Gray!" Grace's voice was sickly sweet as she sauntered into his office. Lucien lifted his head from his laptop, his eyes narrowing slightly as they took in the sight before him. The woman standing in his doorway was dressed in a tight, re**aling dress, the neckline pl**ging so low it nearly reached her na**l. Her eyes, heavily lined with makeup, gleamed at him with an overdone al**re. Lucien frowned, his mind racing. The woman from last night had been different-soft, innocent, unassuming. The garish woman in front of him didn't fit the image he had in his head. What's going on? he wondered. Has she dressed like this to impress me? How wrong she is. His dark eyes locked onto Grace, his expression hard and unreadable. The tension in the room thickened as Grace began to feel the weight of his gaze. Her confidence faltered under his silence, and she shifted nervously, her se**ctive smile wavering. Does he know? Does he see through her façade? Panic flickered in her ch**t, but she quickly masked it, pulling out the neatly folded white shirt from her bag. She stepped forward, her hips swaying as she approached his desk. "Sir," she said, her voice laced with false sweetness, "I came to return your shirt." She pointed to the embroidered initials on the cuff-L.G. Lucien's eyes flicked to the shirt, then back to Grace. He remained silent, his expression unreadable. Grace took another step forward, wriggling her body as she did so, her vo**ptuous figure now mere inches from Lucien. She leaned in slightly, her breath catching as she tried to catch his attention with her proximity. But Lucien didn't move. His eyes, cold and calculating, bored into her as if seeing right through her pathetic attempt. Grace's heart pounded in her ch**t. Why isn't he reacting? She began to second-guess her plan, the confidence she'd walked in with slowly crumbling under his unyielding stare. Chapter 7 Do you want me Lucien Gray leaned back in his chair, slouching lazily as he closed his laptop with a soft click. His lips curled into a se**ctive smile, one that seemed almost deliberate. His slightly narrowed eyes gave nothing away, their depths too dark to read A few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing the strong, wheat-colored skin of his ch**t, radiating a potent, dangerous charm. Grace Lauren felt heat rising to her cheeks, a flush spreading like wildfire. In her mind, Lucien's relaxed posture and that smile were a clear invitation. It's time to show him what I've got, she thought, her heart racing with anticipation. She strutted confidently around the wide desk, her h*ps swaying as she approached Lucien, her heels clicking softly against the floor. Her gaze locked onto him, her vision slightly blurred with de**re. He was everything she had dreamed of-handsome, wealthy, powerful. If she could capture his attention, she would never have to worry about her future again. She would escape the shantytown she despised so much. But Lucien didn't move. He remained lounged in his chair, that same faint smile playing on his lips, though his eyes stayed cold, unblinking, like shards of ice. Grace felt a flicker of unease. Why isn't he doing anything? She wondered, her confidence wavering. Anxious now, she made her move, sliding into his lap, her body pressing against his. Lucien didn't stop her. In fact, his arms casually wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, his fingers brushing against her skin. He smiled, but there was something unsettling about it-a smile that never reached his eyes. Grace's heart leapt. Her face flushed deeper, and a spark of triumph lit in her eyes. The rumors were wrong, she thought, giddy with excitement. All that talk about Lucien Gray only wanting big stars or untouchable women? Nonsense! She wriggled against him, her body moving se**ctively as her hands ro**ed over his ch**t. But there was still no real response from Lucien. His expression didn't change, his hands didn't explore her in return. The lack of reaction unnerved her, but she pressed on, desperate to break through his cold exterior. Leaning in close, she brought her lips to his ear, her voice dripping with se**ction. "Lucien, don't you want me?" In an instant, the atmosphere shifted. Grace barely had time to react before a strong hand gripped her hair from behind, yanking her head back sharply. Pain shot through her scalp, and she gasped, her eyes wide with shock. Lucien's face was suddenly inches from hers, his eyes no longer cold but blazing with something far more dangerous. His breath, hot and heavy, brushed against her lips, sending a shiver down her spine. Grace trembled, her mind racing, trying to understand what had just happened. Before she could say a word, Lucien stood, lifting her effortlessly from his lap. His grip was unyielding, his black eyes piercing as he stared down at her. His voice, when it came, was low and filled with venom. "Get out." Grace's heart plummeted, her mouth falling open in disbelief. What just happened? she thought, confusion and humiliation washing over her. A second ago, she had been so sure of her control, so confident that she had him wrapped around her finger. Lucien's expression showed no sign of warmth or indulgence. If anything, it had hardened. His grip tightened on her, and with a swift motion, he tossed her onto the wide sofa across the room, her body landing with a dull thud. Grace lay there, stunned, her mind reeling. What went wrong? She couldn't understand how the situation had turned so quickly. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and her heart pounded in her ch**t. Lucien, now standing behind his desk, pulled out a checkbook with the same ease as if this were just another business transaction. Scribbling down a few numbers, he tore the check from the book and flung it onto her lap. His voice was as cold as steel. "Get out. Now." Tears of humiliation stung at Grace's eyes. She looked at the check, her fingers trembling as they reached for it. The amount was more than enough to make her problems disappear, but the sting of rejection cut deep. Lucien didn't even care to look at her as she gathered herself up. She rose slowly from the sofa, clutching the check in her hand, her pride shattered. One last glance at Lucien told her all she needed to know-there would be no second chances. His back was already turned to her, his attention elsewhere, as though she had never even existed. With her head hanging low and her cheeks burning with shame, Grace walked out, the door closing behind her with a heavy finality. Chapter 8 Daydreaming Nina sprinted through the streets, her breath coming in short gasps as she raced toward the Prague Restaurant. She was already twenty minutes late for her shift, and panic gnawed at her stomach. This was her third job, and by far the most rewarding. The Prague Restaurant wasn't just any establishment-it was the best Western restaurant in the city, with strict rules to match its reputation. Three late arrivals or one guest complaint, and you were out. No exceptions. Clad in her light blue waiter uniform, Nina burst through the back entrance and hurried toward the passing area, her shoes squeaking slightly on the polished floor. Sunny must have been waiting forever, she thought, guilt surging through her as she spotted her coworker. "Sunny! I'm so sorry! The professor ran over time in class today!" Nina panted, repeating her apologies as she straightened her uniform. Sunny glanced up with a bright smile, her face lighting up with a mix of anticipation and excitement. "No worries, Nina! Actually, I kinda wish I was on duty tonight!" Nina blinked, confused by Sunny's enthusiasm. "Ah? Why's that? Is the manager handing out bonuses today?" Sunny rolled her eyes playfully and made a face. "No! Something way better than a bonus. I heard the president of Gray Enterprises is coming tonight!" Nina's heart skipped a beat. The president of Gray Enterprises? The name stirred something in her, a sense of familiarity that gnawed at the edges of her mind. *Gray... Where have I heard that before?* It had been popping up around her lately, but she couldn't quite place it. Sunny leaned in and squeezed Nina's cheek affectionately. "Lucien Gray! Haven't you heard? He's ridiculously handsome and generous. I swear, his fans could line up around the globe!" Nina snorted, shrugging off the idea with a dismissive wave. "That's got to be an exaggeration! Besides, what's it got to do with us? He's handsome and rich, sure, but we're just serving tables." Sunny wasn't ready to let the fantasy go. "Oh, come on, Nina! What if it's your turn to serve him tonight? Then Lucien Gray sees your pretty face and your tiny waist, and BAM! He falls madly in love with you, sweeps you off your feet, and next thing you know, you're married to the president of Gray Enterprises! Just don't forget me when you pull up in a Ferrari, rocking a 20-carat diamond and Chanel's latest fashion." Sunny's dramatic storytelling had Nina rolling her eyes and laughing. "You bad influence! I'll tell everyone about your crazy daydreams!" The two girls dissolved into giggles, playfully shoving each other as they made a mess of their uniforms. "Nina! Soda for table 12, let's go!" the manager called from across the room. Nina made a funny face at Sunny before grabbing the tray and heading toward the vestibule. Despite the pay being good, the job was exhausting. The restaurant's clientele consisted of powerful, demanding people, and Nina couldn't afford any mistakes. Her family was still in debt, and losing this job would be devastating. As she approached table 12, her professional smile faltered for a brief moment. Sitting at the table was none other than Sulia, the actress who had taken by storm in the past month. Wow, Sulia's even more stunning in person, Nina thought, trying to keep her composure. A month ago, she had been a barely-known actress, but after starring in a romantic movie, she'd shot to fame overnight. Rumor had it she was backed by a powerful consortium, and her publicity team was second to none. Sulia's beauty was undeniable. Her long, soft hair was casually pinned up, leaving her delicate neck exposed, and her bold makeup accentuated her striking features. She wore a flowing white gown with a deep V-cut back, revealing smooth, eye-catching skin. "Excuse me, here's your soda," Nina said politely, placing the glass on the table with a smile. "Thank you," Sulia replied, her voice polite but distant. There was no warmth in her tone, no real acknowledgment of the service. As Nina was about to step away, the phone on the table rang, catching her attention. It wasn't just any phone-it was a Vertu, one of the most exclusive luxury phones in the world, encrusted with diamonds. There were only 200 of them in existence, and owning one wasn't just about having money. That's worth more than I'll probably make in years, Nina thought, curiosity tingling inside her. Sulia was a rising star, sure, but even with her newfound fame, a phone like that seemed excessive. Maybe the rumors are true. She must really have some serious backing. Still, it wasn't her place to wonder. Nina forced herself to refocus on her work, turning away from the table with the same professional smile, but the brief encounter lingered in her thoughts. "People like her live in a completely different world," she mused. One I'll never touch. Sulia glanced down at the massive screen of her diamond-encrusted phone, her lips curling into a sweet smile as her manicured fingers pressed the call button. Her expression softened instantly, and her voice took on a sugary tone. "Darling, where are you? Why aren't you here yet? I'm so bored waiting for you all alone!" Her voice was so soft, dripping with sweetness that most men would have found impossible to resist. Nina, busy refilling water glasses nearby, couldn't help but overhear. She blinked in surprise at the transformation in Sulia's demeanor. The icy, untouchable beauty had morphed into a playful, almost girlish version of herself. Who could be on the other end of that call? Nina wondered, her curiosity piqued. "What? You want me to guess where you are? You're such a bad guy!" Sulia pouted, her full lips forming a sulky, playful expression. "Haven't you even taken off yet?" Nina inwardly cringed, suppressing a gr**n. Couples can be so nauseating sometimes. Even big stars play these cheesy games, she thought, rolling her eyes as she walked past with the tray. Suddenly, a deep, smooth voice came through the phone's speaker, oozing charisma. "Baby, don't you have faith in me?" The sound made Nina's ears perk up. The voice was so rich and captivating that it seemed to fill the room, but what startled her even more was that it didn't come from the phone. It came from behind her. Both Nina and Sulia turned around simultaneously. There, standing at the entrance of the restaurant, was a man whose presence commanded the entire room. He wore a perfectly tailored black Armani suit that clung to his athletic frame. He had to be at least six feet tall, his broad shoulders straight, his posture relaxed but exuding authority. His features were godlike-sharp, symmetrical, with a jawline that could cut glass. His eyes, a deep, piercing black, locked onto Sulia for a moment, but they were filled with a detached amusement. Then, they moved to Nina. Nina's breath caught in her throat. Where have I seen him before? she thought, her mind racing. He looks so familiar... But she quickly dismissed it. There was no way someone like her, from a struggling family, could have crossed paths with someone like him-a top-tier billionaire. Lucien Gray's lips curled into a slow, wicked smile as he strolled casually toward them, his long strides commanding attention from every person in the restaurant. "How about my card? Did it come in handy?" he said smoothly, his voice directed at Nina. ...... What happens next? 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