Bound To The CEO -Thirty Rules I Swore To Keep

Ten Million Reasons

CHAPTER SEVEN

Min-jun (Video Call)

Her heart leapt. She answered instantly.

His face filled the screen—twenty years old, tousled black hair, wearing a hoodie with the Seoul National University logo. Behind him, sunlight streamed into their bright, tidy apartment in Gangnam. Bookshelves lined the wall. Family photos on the mantel. Her adopted parents’ cat, Mochi, blinked sleepily from his lap.

“Unnie!” he grinned. “You picked up! I thought you were too busy being rich now.”

Clara laughed, relief flooding her. “Never too busy for you. How are Mom and Dad?”

“Good! Dad’s teaching summer classes, and Mom just got promoted at the architecture firm. They asked about you—again.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “They miss you. Especially Mom. She keeps saying you should come home for Chuseok.”

“I will,” Clara said softly. “Soon.”

“How’s school?” she asked.

“Fine. Finals next week. Easy stuff.” He shifted Mochi off his lap. “How about you? You look… fancy. Did you go to another gala?”

She almost smiled. “Something like that.”

He studied her—really looked. “You okay, unnie?”

“Yes,” she said quickly. Then, softer: “Really. I’m okay.”

A pause. Then, casually: “How’s Ji-eun?”

Min-jun made a face. “Oh. We broke up.”

“What? When?”

“Last month.” He shrugged, but his eyes flickered away. “She started seeing someone else during spring break. Didn’t even try to hide it.”

Clara’s stomach dropped. “Min-jun—”

“I’m fine,” he cut in, voice light but tight. “Honestly, I was tired of pretending I cared. It was easier to let her go.”

She opened her mouth to argue—to remind him he deserved better, that heartbreak wasn’t something to shrug off—

But then he squinted at the screen. “Wait… why does your room look like a palace? Is that marble?”

Clara glanced around—the high ceilings, the silk drapes, the view of the Atlantic through floor-to-ceiling glass. “I’m… staying at my Damian’s place.”

Min-jun froze. Eyes wide. “No way.”

“What?”

“Are you dating Damian Ashworth? Finally?!”

She hesitated. “Yeah.”

“Finally!” He threw his hands up. “I knew it! All those times you’d get quiet when his name came up on the news—I told Ji-eun you were totally into him!”

“It’s not like that,” Clara said quickly. “It’s a contract.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A what?”

“A marriage contract. Thirty days to announce our engagement, two years of public appearances, shared residence, no scandals. If I fulfill all the terms…” She paused. “Ten million dollars.”

Min-jun stared at her.

Then grinned like he’d just won the lottery.

“TEN MILLION?!” He leaned back in his chair, laughing. “UNNIE, I’M RICH!”

Clara shook her head, smiling despite herself. “I’m the one getting the money, Min-jun.”

“Same thing,” he said, waving a hand. “You’ll fund my startup. Buy Mom and Dad a beach house. And obviously, I get a new gaming setup. Maybe a Tesla.”

She shook her head, smiling. “I don’t even need the money.”

That stopped him. He leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “Wait… you’re not doing this for the cash?”

“No,” she said quietly. “I took the contract because… he needed someone who wouldn’t break under pressure. Someone who already knew how to move into his world.”

Min-jun stared at her. Then snorted. “Oh no. Don’t tell me—you’re doing it for love.”

"What if I am ?"She asked smiling sheepishly

He rolled his eyes, but there was warmth underneath. “Unnie, please. Don’t be delusional.”

A beat. Then, with a smirk:

“But if you come back to your senses… I can finally tell Ji-eun I’m rich now, right?”

Clara laughed—a real, full laugh, the kind she hadn’t allowed herself all day. “Don’t even joke.”

“I’m not joking! You’re basically a billionaire now.” He paused, suddenly serious. “But… you’re happy, right? Even if it’s a contract?”

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “But I’m trying.”

Min-jun nodded slowly. Then smiled. “Then I’m rooting for you. Contract or not—you deserve good things, unnie.”

They talked for another ten minutes,about Dad’s new car, Mom’s garden, Min-jun’s coding project, the new ramen place near campus. Normal, easy, theirs.

When they finally hung up, Clara sat very still, the echo of his laughter lingering in the quiet room.

For the first time all day, she didn’t feel like future Mrs. Ashworth.

She felt like Clara.

Sister. Daughter. Herself.

Down the hall, a door closed softly.

She didn’t move. Didn’t call out.

But as she curled up on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest, one thought settled gently in her mind:

Maybe this contract didn’t have to erase her.

Maybe just maybe it could give her the freedom to finally bring her whole self home.