The suffocating scent of sweet, cloying perfume hung heavy in the air of the CEO's office. It wasn't Shen Ruoyin's perfume.
Sitting on the edge of the mahogany desk was Lin Xia, a budding actress with teary eyes and a trembling bottom lip. She was clinging tightly to the arm of Gu Yanchen, the billionaire CEO of the Gu Group.
"Yanchen, I'm so sorry," Lin Xia sobbed, though her eyes darted toward the door with a hint of triumph. "I didn't mean to let the paparazzi take those photos of us at the hotel. Sister Ruoyin must be so angry..."
Gu Yanchen patted Lin Xia's hand, his handsome face twisting with impatience. He didn't even look up when the heavy oak doors opened.
Shen Ruoyin walked in.
She was twenty-five, though her delicate, almost fragile features made her look younger. Her long, silver-white hair fell in soft waves down her back, a striking contrast to the muted, shapeless beige dress she wore. For two years, she had been the perfect, invisible trophy wife. She never raised her voice. She never caused a scene.
"Ruoyin," Gu Yanchen snapped, his tone laced with cold authority. "Stop standing there like a ghost. I already told the PR department to handle the rumors. Lin Xia was just frightened by a stalker, and I offered her a place to stay. If you're here to throw a tantrum, you can leave."
Ruoyin didn't scream. She didn't cry. Her striking, expressive eyes simply swept over the two of them, calm and entirely devoid of warmth.
Instead of a tantrum, she calmly walked forward and dropped a thin manila folder onto his pristine desk.
Smack.
"Sign it," Ruoyin said. Her voice was light, clear, and completely steady.
Gu Yanchen frowned, finally looking away from his mistress. He picked up the file and flipped it open. The bold words at the top made his pupils shrink.
Divorce Agreement.
For a moment, the office was dead silent. Then, Gu Yanchen let out a harsh, mocking laugh. He leaned back in his leather chair, looking at her as if she were a toddler throwing a toy out of a pram.
"Divorce? Are you out of your mind?" he sneered. "Ruoyin, you have no family backing you. You haven't worked a day since we got married. Do you think threatening me with this will make me drop Lin Xia?"
He flipped to the back page to look at the settlement demands, fully expecting to see a request for a luxury villa or millions in alimony. Instead, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Zero assets?" Gu Yanchen read aloud, his voice dripping with disbelief. "No properties, no alimony, no corporate shares? You are leaving with nothing?"
"I don't want your money, Gu Yanchen," Ruoyin said softly, her gaze cool. "I find it dirty."
Gu Yanchen's face darkened with sudden rage. "Then what do you want? You think you can survive out there on your own?"
"I want one thing." Ruoyin turned her head, her gaze bypassing the arrogant billionaire entirely. She looked straight into the darkest corner of the spacious office. "I want his contract."
Gu Yanchen froze. Lin Xia blinked in confusion.
Standing perfectly still in the shadows was a towering figure. He was dressed in a crisp, all-black suit, an earpiece resting in his ear. Broad-shouldered and heavily muscled, he looked completely out of place in the sleek, modern office.
This was Yan Ting.
Thirty-five years old. A former elite mercenary who had survived the darkest underground rings and the deadliest warzones. He was a man with deeply tanned skin, a sharp, masculine jawline, and a faint, dangerous scar that ran along the side of his neck. In elite circles, he was known simply as Gu Yanchen's Mad Hound—a lethal, emotionless weapon who only knew how to obey orders and break bones.
At the sound of Ruoyin's voice, Yan Ting's golden-amber eyes flickered. His massive frame shifted slightly, his gaze locking onto the delicate woman in the center of the room.
Madam wants... me? Beneath his rigid, military posture, his heart gave a violent, uncharacteristic jolt. He was a killer. He was stained with blood and dirt. Why would this fragile, beautiful woman want a monster like him?
"Yan Ting?" Gu Yanchen burst into laughter, slamming the file onto the desk. "Are you insane? He's a bodyguard. My bodyguard! Why on earth do you want my dog?"
Ruoyin didn't answer him. Her mind briefly pulled her back to a memory she had kept buried under a layer of ice for two full years.
Two years ago.
It was the dead of winter. She was twenty-three, pregnant, and terrified. A sudden, sharp pain had seized her stomach. She had begged Gu Yanchen to take her to the hospital. But Lin Xia had called, crying about a broken pipe in her apartment. Gu Yanchen had looked at Ruoyin writhing in the backseat with disgust. "You are always overreacting," he had sneered, ordering the driver to drop him off at Lin Xia's place first, telling Ruoyin to take a cab.
The delay cost her everything. She lost her baby before she ever reached the emergency room. She remembered lying on the freezing, wet pavement outside the hospital doors in the torrential rain. Gu Yanchen had arrived an hour later, looked at the blood pooling around her, cursed about the public embarrassment, and walked away.
He had left her there to die.
But someone else had stayed. A towering shadow had stepped forward. Yan Ting, the ruthless mercenary, had broken his orders to follow his boss. He had taken off his jacket, draped it over her shivering shoulders, and silently held a large black umbrella over her head. He used his massive, scarred body as a shield against the biting wind. He hadn't spoken, but the fierce, suffocating grief in his amber eyes told her he understood. It was the only warmth she felt that entire day.
The naive girl who loved Gu Yanchen had died on that pavement. For two years, Ruoyin had played the ghost wife. She had smiled, stayed quiet, and used the shadows of the Gu estate to silently build a rival corporate empire that was now ready to swallow Gu Yanchen whole.
She was done playing nice.
"His exclusive employment contract," Ruoyin repeated, her voice snapping back to the present. She pulled a sleek, matte black card from her purse and tossed it lightly onto the desk. It landed with a soft click. "His buyout clause is fifty million. The funds are there. Sign the divorce papers, transfer his contract to my name, and you will never have to see my face again."
Gu Yanchen stared at the black card. It was a limitless centurion card, one he certainly hadn't issued to her. Confusion and anger warred in his eyes, but his massive ego won out. He sneered, picking up his expensive pen.
"Fine. If you want to play this stupid game and starve on the streets with a bodyguard you can't afford to pay, be my guest."
He violently scrawled his name across the divorce agreement and the employment transfer, throwing the papers at her. "Get out. And don't come crawling back to me when you're broke!"
Ruoyin caught the papers gracefully. A genuine, breathtaking smile finally bloomed on her face, making Gu Yanchen's breath hitch involuntarily. He had forgotten how beautiful she was when she smiled.
But the smile wasn't for him.
She turned around and walked over to the giant standing in the shadows. She had to tilt her head up significantly just to meet his eyes.
"Yan Ting," she said softly.
Yan Ting's breath caught in his throat. He immediately lowered his head, his deep, gravelly voice tight with suppressed emotion. "Madam."
"I am no longer the Madam of the Gu family," she corrected gently. She reached out, her small, pale fingers lightly brushing against the sleeve of his dark suit. Yan Ting's muscles instantly locked up, rigid as steel under her touch. "Grab your things. You belong to me now."
Yan Ting's golden eyes widened a fraction. He looked at Gu Yanchen, who was glaring at them, and then back down at the delicate woman who had just bought his life. Slowly, a heavy, dangerous aura began to leak from the Mad Hound. For two years, he had watched her suffer in silence. He had burned with guilt for failing to protect her child. He had vowed to himself that if she ever asked, he would burn the world down for her.
"Yes," Yan Ting rumbled, his voice low and vibrating with absolute loyalty. "My Lady."
Without another glance at the stunned CEO, Ruoyin turned and walked out of the office. Yan Ting immediately fell into step exactly half a pace behind her, his massive frame shielding her back just as he had done in the rain.
When they stepped out of the suffocating corporate building and into the bright sunlight, a custom, extended black Maybach was already idling by the curb. A chauffeur in white gloves hurriedly opened the door, bowing deeply to Ruoyin.
"Welcome back, Boss," the chauffeur said respectfully.
Yan Ting froze. He stared at the multi-million dollar car, and then at the chauffeur who was addressing the fragile, supposedly penniless ex-wife as Boss.
Ruoyin paused by the open door. She looked back at her towering, scarred bodyguard, her silver hair catching the wind. The weak wife disguise was gone. In her eyes was the sharp, undeniable glint of a queen who had just reclaimed her throne.
"Don't just stand there," she teased, a playful lilt in her voice. "Are you going to let your new boss open her own doors? Let's go home, Yan Ting. I need to take you shopping for some new suits."