After that day, Meredith reserved the hotel suite indefinitely, spending every day with Charles.
Charles, for his part, abandoned all inspection work. Every day, he stayed in the hotel, “selling his charms” and enjoying it far more than he'd ever admit.
The bed, the window, the couch, the bathtub… They had left their mark everywhere.
A month later, Meredith received news that her grandmother, Rachel, had collapsed.
Rushing to the hospital, the doctor told her Rachel had only two weeks left.
Meredith panicked. Having lost her parents young, she had been raised by Rachel, who managed the Brown Family business.
After the arranged marriage with the Perry Family, though Mark treated her like a stranger, she had never dared tell Rachel, pretending instead that they were deeply in love.
Lying weakly on the hospital bed, Rachel grasped Meredith's hand. "Meredith, where's Mark?"
Meredith froze.
After comforting Rachel, she stepped into the hallway to call Mark. Several attempts later, he finally answered impatiently.
"What?"
Meredith took a steadying breath. "Mark, Grandma's sick. The doctor says she has two weeks at most. Could you visit her with me?"
Silence stretched on the other end.
Knowing exactly what he wanted, Meredith clenched her teeth. "The Brown Group withdraws from the West District land bid."
That prime West District plot, coveted by every major conglomerate in the city, had originally been acquired by the Johnson Group, a multinational giant. No one dared challenge them.
Later, when the Johnson Group sought local partners for development, both the Perry and Brown Families had fiercely vied for the opportunity. Mark had long pressured Meredith to withdraw the Brown bid, but she had refused.
Now, for Rachel's sake, she had no choice.
Predictably, hearing her concession, Mark dropped all pretense and immediately agreed.
Meredith added one more condition: he needed to act the part of a doting husband for Rachel's final two weeks.
Mark hesitated for a few seconds. "Fine."
With this settled, Meredith headed straight to the hotel.
Charles emerged freshly showered. A towel hung low on his hips, his torso bare, water droplets tracing the lines of his abs.
He smirked playfully, challenging her with his gaze.
"What? Didn't satisfy you yesterday? Back so soon?"
Meredith stared at his devastatingly handsome face, his body radiating pure masculine energy. She felt a pang of reluctance but steeled herself and tossed him a bank card containing two million—a severance payment.
Charles froze, struggling to contain his fury.
"What's this supposed to mean?"
With icy composure, Meredith displayed the wedding ring she had kept hidden.
"See this? I've been married all along. This was just fun. And I'm done now."
Charles choked with rage, speechless.
No woman had ever dared play with him and toss him aside like this.
He ground his molars, the fury in his eyes seeming capable of burning Meredith alive.
Seeing his reaction, Meredith felt a flicker of guilt. The past month had been… fun. She'd miss him, in her own way.
But she had made her deal with Mark. They would pretend to be a loving couple for the coming fortnight. She couldn't risk any scandal, so she steeled herself for the breakup.
Donning her sunglasses, Meredith gave Charles a sweet smile. "If I'm ever in the mood again, you'll be my first call."
Aksara