Chapter 67

Winnie lowered her head, burying her face in his chest. Her slender arms reached behind him as she silently tried to fasten the clasp. It wouldn't fasten. She was on the verge of tears. She thought to herself, "What kind of person is this!" Van stayed quiet for a moment before saying, 'Do you want me to help?" 'No," she replied, her voice thick with frustration. Biting her lip and holding back tears, she fumbled for what felt like an eternity before finally managing to fasten it. She stayed nestled against his chest for a while longer. When she finally lifted her face, her eyes were brimming with tears. Van paused, then gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing the soft, damp corners of her eyes. 'Why are you crying?" Winnie held it in as best as she could, but the grievance was hard to express. Her lips, swollen from his rough kisses, quivered stubbornly, pouting downward as if she were about to cry again. Seeing her silent, a wave of heat surged within Van once more. His well-defined fingers slipped into the knot of his tie, loosening it completely. 'It's all my fault," he said. 'I broke my promise, let lust take over, behaved badly and disrespected you." 'Lust take over" wasn't a term he would ever use lightly. It was a testament to how deeply he reflected on his actions. Winnie lowered her face again, her lips tugging upward ever so slightly in a faint smile. 'You're so rich—a million means nothing to you. I dare you to try this again next time," she said. She made a good point. A million dollars for a kiss held no real weight. If he wanted to kiss her, he would. Anything with a price tag in this world was something he could easily obtain. Van thought for a moment. His voice was deep and hoarse, yet his tone was serious. 'There really won't be a next time. Your kisses shouldn't have a price, and I shouldn't force them on you." He gently brushed Winnie's hair. 'Let's go. I'll take you to sign the contract." 'Aren't you going to see your friend?" she asked. 'Today might not be the best time," he replied. He bent down to pick up the jacket that had fallen to the floor. After a long exhale, he changed his mind. 'Winnie, can you go back ahead of me? I think I need a moment alone with my friend." Winnie nodded, and the two parted ways—one heading inward, the other outward. Through the expansive 70-ft viewing window, a languid koala perched contentedly on an eucalyptus branch. Its limbs hung naturally, its mouth curling slightly upward in a serene smile. In front of the viewing window stood a single vintage folding chair. The metal frame gleamed silver, catching the faint light from the overhead skylight, accentuating its stark, cold solitude. Suddenly, the koala opened its eyes and noticed the man sitting in front of it—a man radiating both pride and loneliness. The man standing in front of the viewing window had never appeared so disheveled before. His suit jacket dangled from one hand, nearly brushing the floor, and his typically crisp, impeccably ironed shirt was rumpled and clinging to him from the heat and frustration. Most noticeably, his tie hung loose and crooked, exposing his pronounced Adam's apple as it moved subtly with each swallow. As he walked closer, he tossed the suit jacket carelessly over the back of the folding chair and pulled a cigarette box from his pocket. There was only one left, but he didn't hesitate. He lit it, taking a slow drag, his chest rising and falling deeply. Van sat down with one leg crossed over the other, one arm draped over the back of the chair, and the other holding a cigarette. His face was emotionless and unpleasant. He was not someone who lacked self-control—at least, not in his relationship with his ex-girlfriend, Ada. Throughout their time together, he had maintained a gentlemanly restraint. They were a real couple. It made no sense that he couldn't control himself around Winnie, someone he had just met a few days ago in a fabricated contractual relationship. Once he finished the cigarette, he stood up and walked briskly down another corridor, heading straight for the center of the house. With his phone pressed to his ear, he instructed Eric, 'Take Miss Loxley to the study. Is the contract ready? Add a few more clauses for me." By the time Van reached the second-floor study, Winnie was already there. Before leaving the venue, Winnie had stopped by the restroom to carefully examine herself. In the mirror, her face looked beautiful but carried a trace of chaotic allure. The disarray was evident in her eyes, the faint blush on her earlobes and nose, and the smudge of color on her lips—signs that made it clear to any observer what had just transpired. She washed away the redness by plashing cold water on her face. By the time Van and Eric saw her, she was fully composed, her makeup touched up, and her armor back in place. 'Miss Loxley, here's the contract," Eric said, handing her a thin sheet of paper. 'Two copies. Once notarized, it will be legally binding." Winnie hadn't expected it to be this formal. She skimmed the contract, her eyes scanning the terms quickly as Eric explained, 'Once the contract is signed, we'll pay 30% upfront today—30 million. At the six-month mark, another 30% will be paid, bringing it to a total of 60%. The remaining 40% will be paid upon completion of the one-year contract term." Winnie nodded but didn't look up at Van. 'Considering you're a public figure," Van began slowly, 'there's a risk of exposure by being in a relationship with me. Any potential losses caused by the publicity will be compensated in the form of resources—endorsements, investments, award campaigns—whatever you need." 'I don't need any of that," Winnie responded quickly. Van's lips curved slightly, his tone not entirely unkind. 'It's what you deserve. Business is business; there's no need to be polite with me." He truly lived up to being a businessman!