The moment they stepped out of the registry office, Hailey's cheeks still burned. "How could you—"

Aldrich smirked. "How could I what?"

"You—you kissed me in public!"

He leaned down. She instinctively retreated half a step, recalg his earlier ambush.

"And how should we settle the matter of your hesitation back there?"

Caught, she mumbled, "I just... needed a second to think."

"What if someone suspected our marriage was fake?"

The logic derailed her completely. (Never mind that normal people wouldn’t interrogate newlyweds’ authenticity.)

"...Fine." Defeated, she dropped the argument.

His lips twitched at her puffed-cheek indignance. "But no more kissing without warning!" she declared.

His gaze dropped to her rose-tinted lips.

Danger.

Twenty-six years of ironclad self-control had shattered the moment he touched her. Now just watching her speak threatened to incinerate his restraint.

He straightened abruptly and towed her to the car.

The scenery grew increasingly unfamiliar. "Where are we going?"

"Home."

"My apartment’s the other way—"

Aldrich turned. Those obsidian Aldrichs pinned her. "Our home."

Panic spiked. "We’re fake-married! Why live together?"

"Or should I announce to my family that my bride refuses to share my bed?"

"But my roommate—"

"I’ll pay her rent until she finds a replacement." He arched a brow. "Any other objections?"

Hailey shut her mouth.

Rich people.

The Maybach glided into an exclusive gated community, stopping before a palatial villa.

The garden alone dwarfed public parks. Hailey gaped at the manicured hedges, marble fountains—

How many zeroes does this man have?

A butler materialized. "Young Master, Young Madam."

Young Madam short-circuited her brain.

Aldrich introduced "Steward Shen" before presenting two middle-aged women. "Chef Chen and Housekeeper Zhang. They’ll attend to you."

Her heart softened. Given his reputed aversion to women, these hires were clearly for her sake.

"Perfect," she beamed.

Pleased by her smile, Aldrich instructed Shen to give her a tour before vanishing into his study.

Upstairs, Elder Yan awaited with reports.

"Several board members question your... orientation. They’ve been noted."

A pause. "Shall we inform Madam Aldrich of the marriage?"

"Not Aldricht." Ice edged his tone. "Keep it from the family."

"As you wish."

Dinner was a twelve-course spectacle.

Hailey Aldrich the feast. "Where’s the staff?"

"They dine separately." He served her a bowl of golden-brothed chicken soup.

Every movement exuded aristocratic precision—no cking cutlery, no stray crumbs. She stole glances between bites.

How does someone even chew elegantly?

Post-meal, Aldrich instructed Chef Chen: "No more carrots, wood ear mushrooms, or lettuce. Double the broccoli and steamed bass."

Hailey froze.

He’d memorized every dish she’d avoided or favored.

Why go this far for a contract marriage?

"A gathering this afternoon," he said casually. "Join me?"

"What kind?"

"Old friends."

"Hard pass." Alarm bells rang. Fake spouses weren’t supposed to meet inner circles!

He didn’t press. "Rest then. I’ll change."

She stood hastily. "I need to go back—"

A glacial look.

"—for toiletries!"

He ruffled her hair. "No need."