Casper was perpetually busy, gone before dawn and returning after midnight—if he returned at all.

The penthouse was vast, yet Veronica's world had shrunk to just the living area, her bedroom, and a small indoor garden.


Electronic locks secured every exit, while hidden cameras tracked her every movement.

She'd tried pumping the butler for information, but he remained unfailingly polite and utterly tight-lipped.

The constant surveillance and confinement nearly choked her.


But she refused to drown in fear or self-pity.

She meticulously observed staff rotations, security shift changes, and during her brief "exercise periods," committed the building's layout to memory. She was preparing—for what, she wasn't sure yet.


Evening fell.

The butler informed her that she would accompany Mr. Wolfe to a charity dinner in one hour.

"This is your first public appearance as Mr. Wolfe's fiancée, Miss Hawthorne." The butler's tone remained perfectly neutral. "Please follow all instructions and demonstrate appropriate affection."

When she finished dressing and faced the enormous mirror, a stranger stared back.

When Casper entered the living room and saw her, his stride faltered—just for a heartbeat.

His eyes lingered on her a moment longer than usual, but he merely nodded, gesturing for her to follow.

The charity dinner occupied the city's most opulent hotel ballroom. The moment they entered arm-in-arm, all eyes locked onto them.

Veronica felt those stares like physical touches, darting between her and Casper.

She took a deep breath and crafted a perfect smile—just the right blend of shy happiness.

Casper played his part flawlessly.

He would occasionally lean close, murmuring something trivial in her ear with practiced intimacy.

His hand rested possessively at the small of her back, a silent claim of ownership.

His touch burned through the thin fabric of her dress, making her spine stiffen involuntarily. Yet she forced herself to relax, even leaning slightly into him.

She played the adoring, dependent fiancée while carefully studying their surroundings.

She noticed business moguls addressing Casper with barely concealed deference; she caught the socialites' glances—curious, envious, hostile.

Everything proceeded smoothly until a portly man with a slick smile approached, drink in hand.

"Wolfe, is this the famous Miss Hawthorne? Absolutely stunning." The man smiled while his eyes crawled over Veronica. "I hear Hawthorne Group hit a rough patch lately? Funny how fortunes change."

Casper's expression remained frozen, but his hand tightened fractionally at her waist.

Just as he opened his mouth, Veronica spoke first.

Her voice carried softly yet clearly to everyone nearby: "Mr. Lloyd, isn't it? Casper's mentioned you—something about your unique approach to shipping logistics. As for my father's company, we're simply undergoing strategic restructuring. We're fortunate to have Casper's insight. After all," she smiled sweetly, "true value takes wisdom to recognize, doesn't it?"

Her words were flawlessly crafted.

Lloyd's smile faltered. He mumbled agreement before hastily excusing himself.

Conversation around them resumed its natural rhythm.

Casper bent down, his lips nearly grazing her ear, his warm breath sending shivers across her skin.

His voice was low, for her alone: "I've underestimated you, Veronica. Quite the performance."

That "Veronica" sounded different—less icy, tinged with something almost playful.

They stood close enough for her to catch his crisp aftershave mingling with wine, creating an unexpected, heart-racing tension between them.

"Just fulfilling our contract, Mr. Wolfe." She turned slightly away from the intimate contact, voice steady despite the telltale flush creeping up her ears.

Casper straightened, fixing her with an intense, searching look.

Just then, Veronica spotted a man in waiter's uniform who quickly ducked his head when she looked his way.

His movements were stiff, jarring against the fluid efficiency of the other servers.

Something primal triggered warning bells in her mind.

Without drawing attention, Veronica instinctively tightened her grip on Casper's arm.

Casper instantly registered the change and looked down at her.

Veronica met his eyes and whispered, "That waiter with the champagne tower in the corner—he's watching us too closely."

Casper's gaze sharpened instantly, predatory and alert.

He didn't look directly at the corner but smoothly pulled Veronica closer, tucking her protectively against his side.

He asked nothing, but his entire demeanor shifted to something lethal and dangerous.