Chapter 2
1068words
The loving expression on Corvis Croft's face vanished in an instant.
He jerked his arm away from my shoulders as if he'd touched something contaminated.
"Don't think that little performance for the cameras makes you my actual fiancée."
"Get out before I change my mind and have you escorted to the police station."
I stood my ground, laughing from sheer anger.
"Nothing would please me more, Mr. Croft."
I snatched my coat from the floor, slipping it on while fixing him with an icy stare:
"Before you continue your meltdown, I suggest three things: First, check the security footage at the 'Blue Velvet' bar—you'll see yourself clinging to me like a desperate drunk. Second, get a blood test—I suspect you were drugged. Third, who exactly were you meeting last night? Why were you alone and completely wasted?"
Corvis's hands froze mid-cuff adjustment.
"I'll look into it," he said coldly. "If I find you're lying… you'll wish you'd never been born."
"Then I'll leave you with this," I grabbed my bag and walked to the door, shooting him a withering glance. "When you discover I'm innocent, remember to get on your knees when you apologize."
…
After escaping the hotel, I thought ignoring the news would let my world return to normal.
I was dead wrong.
In this age of viral information, the "Croft's fiancée" label felt less like an honor and more like a death sentence.
The moment I reached campus, I sensed the shift. The usually bustling university walkway fell eerily silent for several seconds when I appeared.
Then came the stares—dozens of them—accompanied by not-so-subtle whispers and pointing fingers.
"That's her, right? The schemer who drugged Croft?"
"Nothing special to look at. Heard she's some scholarship case. Talk about desperate tactics."
"Can't believe she hasn't been arrested yet. Word is the Croft family lawyers are already on their way…"
"Splash!"
An iced Americano cup crashed at my feet, brown liquid splattering across my white sneakers.
I jerked my head up to see several fashionably dressed girls on the steps, looking down at me with contempt. "How does this gold-digger have the nerve to show her face? Go back to whatever slum you crawled out of!"
I clenched my fists but held my temper.
Just one more week of my training period. Just one more week to endure…
"Buzz—"
My phone vibrated frantically in my pocket. It was Amy, my partner at Aurora Cosmetics.
"Nora! Where are you? We're in crisis!" Amy's voice was tearful. "Starting thirty minutes ago, our suppliers, packaging manufacturers—even our shipping company—all suddenly terminated their contracts!"
"What? Are they just eating the breach of contract penalties?"
"They said… someone made calls." Amy broke down sobbing. "Anyone who works with Aurora is declaring war on the Croft Group. Nora, our supply chain is dead—the company is finished!"
I stood frozen, ice spreading through my veins.
Corvis.
That bastard hadn't even verified the truth before launching his attack!
Just then, a black stretch Bentley ignored the campus vehicle restrictions and pulled up directly in front of me.
The window lowered slowly, revealing Corvis's profile—somehow even more punchable than before.
He didn't even look at me, his tone as cold as if addressing a servant:
"Get in."
The surrounding whispers exploded into a frenzy.
I knew getting in would confirm all the rumors about us, but refusing meant my company wouldn't survive the night.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and slid inside.
The air-conditioned interior shut out both the heat and hostility. Corvis had changed into a fresh charcoal three-piece suit, once again every inch the imperious Wall Street tyrant.
"Found your answers?" I asked coldly. "Here to apologize?"
Corvis finally turned to face me.
"Bad news," he tossed a tablet onto my lap irritably. "All surveillance footage from the Blue Velvet bar last night is gone. Completely unrecoverable."
I froze. "Why?"
"Someone doesn't want me seeing the truth." Corvis narrowed his eyes. "Even stranger—I was supposedly meeting an investor interested in acquiring my company. I just called him."
"He claims he never arranged to meet me and has never even heard of that bar."
A chill ran up my spine.
This was a meticulously planned trap targeting Corvis.
Someone had lured him to the bar with false information, drugged him, stolen the chip, destroyed the evidence, and even had reporters ready.
"So… you believe I'm not involved now?"
"Quite the opposite."
Corvis let out a cold laugh, pulling an unbound document from his briefcase and tossing it beside the surveillance report.
"The footage is gone, the witness doesn't exist. The situation now is: if you're innocent, you're the only eyewitness. If you're an accomplice…"
His gaze hardened. "Then you're one hell of an actress."
"Either way, keeping you where I can see you is safest—for both of us—until I catch whoever's responsible."
He pointed to the document.
"Sign it. This 'Premarital Cohabitation and Confidentiality Agreement.' Move into my estate, play along 24/7 until I uncover the truth or recover that damn chip."
I glanced at the document, laughing from anger: "What makes you think I'd cooperate with an egomaniac like you?"
"Because I can resurrect your little company within an hour—or make it disappear forever."
Corvis leaned back, resuming that detestable controlling posture:
"How did it feel at the school gates? Miss Nora, you're public enemy number one right now. Besides being my 'fiancée,' do you think you can survive in this city?"
Threats. Always with the threats.
But I had to admit he was right.
Without signing, my company would collapse, I'd be crushed by rumors, and I'd fail my family's assessment.
More importantly, I wanted to know who was orchestrating this whole scheme.
I silently added this to my mental ledger.
"Fine."
I pulled a pen from my bag and signed "Nora Grant" at the bottom of the document, pressing so hard I nearly tore through the paper, imagining it was Corvis's face.
"I'll sign. But get this straight, Mr. Croft—you're the one begging me to put on this show."
Corvis took back the document, looking at the signature with a mocking smile.
"Begging? No, darling."
He waved to the driver. "Drive. Back to the estate."
Then he turned to me, whispering like the devil himself:
"This is mutual benefit—and your only chance to maintain any dignity."
