Chapter 51

"Thank you," she said, slightly tilting her chin, forcing a smile at the corners of her lips. Van gave a deep, low chuckle. "Good. I just happen to need a woman to help me fake a forced marriage. We know each other well, and with Terry as a guarantor, you're the perfect candidate." "You're testing me?" Winnie froze for a moment. "That's no different from being a mistress." "I won't touch you," Van lowered his gaze, his demeanor distant, as if he looked down on her. "You don't have to do anything." "I don't believe you." Winnie swallowed, turning her face away, her eyes red. "Then what was all that just now? You have no credit." "100 million," Van said, loosening his shirt collar with one hand while the other rested on his waist. He walked a few steps around the room, irritated, and added, "Think about it yourself." She snorted, a sarcastic smile tugging at her lips. "Not bad. You really are generous. So, is it 100 million for however many times, or 100 million per time? If it's the latter, I'm afraid I'll gladly bankrupt you. Can your body handle it, Mr. Marlowe?" Van's expression darkened. "What are you talking about?" Winnie hummed, then said, "What if I don't sleep with you?" "Wait a second," Van said, raising a hand as if to halt the conversation, like at a negotiation table. After a brief moment, he lowered her head, thinking for a moment. When he looked up again, his eyes were filled with disbelief. "It's tax, not sex." Winnie had plenty more sharp remarks prepared for him, but when she heard the word "tax," her momentum was completely halted. She inhaled sharply, spun around, and pressed her forehead against the bookshelf. Van heard her whisper softly, a quiet, mortified "sh*t!" She wanted to bury herself. "If you're thinking of trading for sex, I can do that too." Winnie pressed her lips together, her eyes burning, and a mix of shame and anger surged in her chest. She was afraid that if she blinked, tears would fall, so she stubbornly glared at Van. "I just misheard. Mr. Marlowe, please show some respect and don't take advantage." The man looked down at her with a knowing, scrutinizing gaze and said, "Is this just your life experience? 100 million, Winnie. You're quite expensive." Winnie's fingertips dug into her palms, and after a long silence, she suddenly relaxed and smiled. "Yeah, 100 million, sleep all you want. Kissing also has a fee, 1 million. Send the money." Her smile was bright, her hair cascading down, gleaming with a warm luster under the light. "If you feel it's unfair, we can make up for the time with an extra minute." She said this deliberately, trying to act like a conscientious businessperson. Van didn't speak, only looked at her coldly. After a while, he started to remove his watch. His movements were slow and deliberate, his gaze fixed on her as he carefully unfolded the brown leather strap from the silver buckle. In the next moment, the expensive tourbillon watch fell onto the sofa. Van stepped forward, slowly closing the distance, until Winnie was pressed tightly against the black bookshelf. "One minute, is it?" Winnie barely audible swallowed, then quickly shut her eyes. Van's lips stopped just a centimeter from hers. His breath, no longer hot and feverish like before, now felt surprisingly ordinary, even cool. "You think I really wanted to kiss you? It was just that the moment felt right, and I thought you were someone who could play along, so I gave it a try." A strange ache spread through Winnie's body, coursing through her veins. It was a fleeting feeling. Although she had known from the beginning that his kiss was part of a "payback," hearing him say it aloud still made her tighten her fist. Van continued to look at her, his gaze steady and unhurried. "Since you understand your position so well, you should know that the terms I just offered leave you no room to refuse. You're right, helping you with Wyatt was just to make sure you owe me a favor that you can never repay. This transaction, whether in terms of emotion, reason, money, or your personal pursuits and character, you shouldn't refuse me." Winnie felt a slow, dull pain rise in her chest. "You can look for someone else, Mr. Marlowe," she said, holding her breath and calmly suggesting. "I've said it before, we know each other well. Since Terry is close to you, your character must not be bad. For matters like this, it's safer when the right people cooperate. Don't you think? Besides, you are so smart, knowing what to ask for and what not to. So, when the contract ends, you probably won't cause me any trouble." Van paused for a moment, then said slowly, "Of course, the most important thing is..." Winnie couldn't think of any other more important or convincing reasons. Van released his hold on her, straightened up, and coldly looked down at her. "If it were another woman, I might eventually fall in love with her. But with you, I won't." After saying that, he stepped back, turned the doorknob, and opened the door. The light from the hallway suddenly flooded in, casting a distant shadow of him. His steps paused for a moment, but he didn't turn around. With his back to her, he said, "100 million. I hope you, being as sensible as you are, won't make me wait too long." No one knew what caused the low pressure between them as they parted, but no one dared to speak. Even Yulia, who was usually oblivious, dared not breathe too loudly. Eric expressed his thanks to Winnie for her hospitality that night, and as they were about to leave, they suddenly heard a voice. "Mr. Marlowe." Van turned back, and Winnie smiled at him, saying, "Please wait." She then instructed Yulia, "Go find that ring." The ring.