Chapter 2

Since playing nice didn't work, it was time to get tough. I couldn't get away, so I'd go all out and push it to the limit. I seriously doubt a neat freak CEO with OCD could stand a loud, gold-digging, compulsive liar like me.

Early the next morning, I shuffled downstairs with wild bedhead, rocking mismatched pajamas and slippers that barely stayed on my feet.

Chris was in the living room, watching the financial news. Even in his perfectly tailored loungewear, he looked untouchable and impossibly refined.

He heard me coming and glanced up. When he caught sight of me, his handsome brows creased ever so slightly.

I thought, 'Yes. That's the disgusted look I was hoping for. I must make him absolutely hate me.'

I let out a huge, dramatic yawn, sprawled across the couch like I owned the place, and casually kicked my feet up onto the pricey coffee table. "I'm hungry. Go fix me something to eat," I said, sounding as bossy as possible.

William, the butler, stood off to the side, his eye twitching—clearly shocked by how rude I was acting.

Chris set down his newspaper, his eyes flicking to my bare ankles. His gaze grew darker. "What do you want?" His voice was totally unreadable.

"Whatever. Bring out whatever fancy stuff you've got. I'm not picky," I said, laying on the spoiled rich girl attitude thick.

'Call me a gold-digger, say I'm tacky, and kick me out already!' I was practically screaming inside, desperate for him to hate me.

Chris paused, silent for a moment. Just when I thought he was about to explode, he stood up, slowly approached me, and then dropped to one knee right in front of me.

'What the fuck? This isn't in the script!' I thought, completely thrown off.

Under the stunned gazes of William and me, Chris gently grasped my foot, which was still propped up on the coffee table. His palm was warm and dry, encircling my ankle and making me shudder.

I was so startled that my knees buckled, nearly sliding right off the couch. "C-Chris, what are you doing?" I stammered.

He looked up at me, his obsidian eyes locked onto mine, his tone carrying a touch of grievance. "Baby, I know you're still mad at me. You dressed up like this and said all that to get my attention, didn't you?"

'Dude, what kind of crazy fanfic are you running in your head? Is your mind-reading broken or what? I'm literally trying to make you hate me!' I screamed inside.

Chris, the absolute master of jumping to conclusions, totally missed my signals and kept talking. "It's my fault. I ignored how you felt.

"Tell me what you want to eat, and I'll have the kitchen whip it up for you. If you want to buy something, I'll buy the entire mall for you."

He paused, his grip on my ankle tightening a little, his voice dropping even lower. "But don't hurt yourself like this again. The floor's cold. You'll catch a chill."

With that, he actually leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss to the smooth skin of my foot. Every hair on my body stood on end. I was so stunned that I froze in place.

'Someone save me! This guy's a total psycho. How does his brain even work?' I screamed inside.

Chris seemed pretty pleased with my "shock." He stood up, towering over me, a confident, almost smug smile playing on his lips.

He said, "William, bring the Azure Heart jewelry set for Olivia. Call the designer and refill the closet with stuff Olivia actually likes. Send every black card I have to her."

I stared at Chris, completely stunned, as he took charge of everything without missing a beat. 'No, no, no. I don't want any of this. All I want is my freedom!' I screamed inside.

I shot up from the couch and, in a panic, grabbed a vase from the coffee table and smashed it on the floor. The sound of the vase shattering was crisp and loud.

"I don't want your filthy money. I hate you. I'm breaking up with you!" I screamed, pointing at Chris with every ounce of strength I had.

William's face went ghostly pale, and he stammered, "M-Mrs. Shaw, that vase was really expensive..."

'Yes. That's it. I'll blow through your fortune. Start hating me already!' I screamed inside. I kept my chin up, glaring at Chris with a defiant look, waiting for his rage to explode.

But Chris just stared at me quietly, and instead of anger, his eyes were filled with genuine heartache.

"Baby, I know you don't feel safe." He came over, carefully pulled me away from the broken vase, and held me close in his arms, as if shielding me from the world.

He said, "Go ahead, smash whatever you want. If it makes you happy, you can wreck the whole place. If the money isn't enough, I'll give you the entire Shaw Group. How about that?"

His voice dripped with tenderness, but it chilled me to the bone.

"Just... don't say you hate me. Don't say you're leaving me," he said, almost begging.

I leaned into his arms, listening to the steady, powerful beat of his heart, and for the first time, I felt true despair.

Chris wasn't loving me at all. He was using his money and power to create a gilded cage for me—one even more lavish, even more impossible to escape.