Later that evening, Yuyan stood on the penthouse balcony, arms wrapped around herself.
Below, the city buzzed. Traffic lights blinked like angry stars. Headlines flashed on building screens—her name next to his. Zhao Corporation shares rising. Lin Yuyan's name trending at number one.
She was the center of a circus she never auditioned for.
The sliding door opened behind her.
She turned, expecting Luchen.
It was Xu Mei.
"I brought your things," the manager said quietly. "And some news."
Yuyan arched a brow. "Good or bad?"
"Depends on how you like your scandals."
Xu Mei handed her a tablet.
Yuyan scrolled.
New footage. Blurry, security cam grain.
Zhao Lemin.
At the airport.
Alone.
Time-stamped: one hour before the wedding.
Yuyan's heart stopped.
"He left?" she whispered.
Xu Mei nodded grimly. "Private jet to Berlin. No return ticket."
"But why?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out."
Yuyan kept scrolling—and froze.
Another image.
Lemin. Speaking with someone in a long grey coat. Face turned away. But something about the posture was… familiar.
Xu Mei's voice dropped. "I don't think he left on his own."
Yuyan's mind raced. "Then who was it? Who would have the power to pull him out—last minute?"
"I'm working on it. But tread carefully. There's something bigger at play."
Yuyan clutched the tablet, her fingers going cold.
Because if Lemin didn't leave her…
Then someone took him away.
—
That night, she found Luchen in the study.
He sat behind a black glass desk, sleeves rolled, reading a thick dossier.
She walked in without knocking.
"I saw the footage."
He didn't look up. "I'm sure it was thrilling."
"Don't play games," she said. "You knew he was gone before the ceremony."
He flipped a page. "I did."
"Then tell me why."
He finally met her gaze. "Because you deserve to know, or because you think you can fix it?"
"I deserve the truth."
He stood, walking slowly around the desk.
When he reached her, he didn't touch her. Just looked.
"He didn't leave because of you," he said. "He left because he made a deal. And because he was afraid of the consequences if he broke it."
Yuyan's chest tightened. "What deal?"
Luchen hesitated.
Then: "With someone our family hoped was gone for good."
Her voice was barely a whisper. "Who?"
He stepped back. "If I tell you that, it won't just ruin the marriage. It might burn down everything—our name, our company, our legacy."
Yuyan stared at him.
"Then maybe it should burn."
Luchen looked at her for a long, heavy moment.
"You're braver than he ever was," he said quietly.
She didn't know if that was a compliment… or a warning.
---
The next morning, Lin Yuyan woke to find her face splashed across every screen in the country.
The west wing of the penthouse was beautiful—marble floors, silk sheets, an entire closet curated in her style—but it still felt like a stranger's space. Lavish. Isolated. Silent.
Her silence didn't last.
A sharp knock on the door. Not Xu Mei.
She sat up, spine stiff. "Come in."
Zhao Luchen entered like a storm contained in human form—black suit, black tie, eyes like winter.
"I have a meeting downtown," he said without preamble. "You're coming with me."
Yuyan's eyes narrowed. "I didn't agree to become your puppet."
"No," he said, tone razor-sharp. "You agreed to survive this marriage. That includes making a public appearance and shutting down the rumors."
"I don't care what people say."
"I do." He took a step forward. "My company is watching. Investors are watching. You married a CEO, Yuyan, not a fairytale."
"And you married an actress, not a robot," she shot back.
A pause.
Then, unexpectedly, he smirked. "Good. Keep that fire. Just don't burn the building down."
—
They arrived at the Zhao Group headquarters an hour later.
She wore a cream-colored suit—silk blouse tucked into tailored pants, no jewelry except a thin diamond band Luchen insisted she wear. Her hair was pulled back, her lips painted a confident red.
To the outside world, she looked every bit the poised CEO's wife.
But inside?
She was a hurricane with no landfall.
As they stepped into the boardroom, camera flashes exploded. Shareholders and media reps turned as one. Luchen greeted them with calm authority, one hand resting on the small of Yuyan's back.
The gesture felt possessive, not tender.
She forced herself to smile.
"Thank you all for coming," Luchen said smoothly. "As many of you have heard, I recently got married. It was a private ceremony. But I'd like to introduce my wife, Lin Yuyan."
Dozens of gazes snapped to her.
She raised her chin. "I wasn't expecting to fall in love with a man like him," she said, voice cool. "But life surprises you."
Luchen shot her a glance.
"I'll do my part to support the company," she added. "As long as Zhao Group continues to support women in media and the arts."
A beat of silence.
Then polite applause.
Luchen leaned in close, his whisper brushing her ear. "Not bad for a puppet."
She smiled without warmth. "Not bad for a tyrant."
—
Later, in the elevator, the tension boiled over.
"You didn't tell me you were dragging me into a press conference," she snapped.
"You needed to prove you weren't a victim," he replied.
"So that's what I am? A brand problem?"
He turned to her slowly. "No. You're a variable."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It means I didn't plan for you," he said quietly. "But now that you're here, I'll adjust."
She stared at him, heart pounding.
"You sound like you're managing a hostile acquisition," she said.
He looked at her then—not the businessman. Not the strategist. The man.
And his eyes softened, just a fraction. "Maybe I am."
The elevator doors opened.
But Yuyan couldn't move.
Because for a second… she didn't hate him.
—
That night, she sat alone in the penthouse's sunroom, the city glowing beneath her.
She sipped wine slowly, watching her reflection blur in the glass.
Then her phone buzzed.
A single message. No name.
> Did he tell you what happened to me yet?
Yuyan's blood went cold.
A second message came in.
> Be careful who you trust, Yuyan. Especially the one who wanted you most.
She stared at the screen, heart hammering.
Zhao Lemin.
He was watching. Waiting. And maybe—manipulating.
She glanced down the hallway toward the study.
Luchen's door was shut. A fortress behind black mahogany.
Secrets lived in that room. Secrets that might ruin them all.
But still, her fingers trembled as she typed back one question:
> What deal did you make?
No reply came.
But in her bones, she knew: Lemin hadn't just vanished. He'd been erased—piece by piece—by someone who had everything to lose.
And someone else had helped him disappear.
---