The banquet hall shimmered with the brilliance of crystal chandeliers.
Su Wan linked arms with Lu Tingchen, drawing stares wherever they passed.
"Mr. Lu, who is this?"
"My new assistant," he replied in a cool tone, yet his hand instinctively shielded her from the waiter's tray, his palm resting possessively on her waist.
During the toasting round, a certain director deliberately poured strong liquor for Su Wan.
The man's long fingers took the glass and downed it in one gulp: "She's allergic to alcohol. I'll drink for her."
The director chuckled awkwardly, "Mr. Lu sure is protective."
Lu Tingchen curved his lips, his fingertip tracing the rim of the glass, leaving behind an ambiguous lip mark. "My person. Naturally, I must be protective."
Su Wan's heart skipped a beat.
Outside the restroom, she lowered her head to wipe her lips, only to overhear the snickering of two socialites in the stall next to her—
"Heard that girl signed a contract to be his 24/7 personal attendant."
"Hmph, she's just a plaything. Thinks she's some kind of phoenix."
Su Wan clutched her clutch bag, her knuckles turning white.
Suddenly, the door swung open.
Lu Tingchen leaned against the doorframe, a black handkerchief clutched in his hand. He raised it to wipe the corner of her mouth, his voice as cold as ice:
"Don't listen. Don't endure it. I'm here."
He turned, his gaze sweeping across the cubicle, his thin lips parting:
"The Li project—Lu Group withdraws its investment."
The cubicle fell instantly silent.
Su Wan lifted her eyes and saw the man's icy profile reflected in the mirror—
For her, with a single sentence, he severed someone's livelihood.
Her heartbeat, now beyond control.
Late at night, the cocktail party came to an end.
The Maybach was parked in the private garage on the 88th floor.
Slightly tipsy, Su Wan stumbled with unsteady steps.
In the elevator, she leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. The man loosened his tie with one hand while pressing the other against the back of her neck, his voice low and hoarse:
"Drunk?"
"Just a little..."
"Then sign here."
"Huh?"
He leaned down, his thin lips brushing her jawline with a light touch—like erasing a lipstick mark, yet leaving a mark of his own.
"The contract is now in effect."
Su Wan's mind went completely blank: "What contract?"
His fingertip traced her lower lip as his voice grew dangerously husky:
"24-hour personal assistant, indefinite trial period."
"Penalty clause—one million?" she mumbled dazedly.
"No." He chuckled softly, his kiss landing behind her ear. "The penalty—you."
The elevator dinged, arriving at the 88th floor.
The doors opened, cold white lights illuminating the space.
Su Wan was carried out of the elevator. The man's footsteps were steady, his voice drifting into the night:
"Welcome aboard, my little assistant."
Su Wan, tipsy and curled up on the sofa, didn't notice Lu Tingchen pulling a thick file from the drawer.
The cover boldly displayed:
[Marriage Agreement]
His fingertips traced the "Spouse" section as a low chuckle escaped him:
"Next step: turn 'Assistant' into 'Mrs. Lu'."