Chapter 3: Give Me a Reason to Choose You
666 Words
Keith Fu—one of Vancity’s Four Elite and the undisputed ruler of WinCloud International—glanced at her, swirling the deep crimson liquid in his glass, his expression unreadable.
Dora took another small step, her voice trembling with nerves but resolve. "I... I want to join the selection. Please... give me a chance." She knew the deadline had supposedly passed, but this was her last hope.
Keith finally spoke, his tone flat and unreadable. "Oh? Give me a reason to pick you." His gaze swept over her, a faint, mocking curve playing at the corner of his lips.
Dora’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she lifted her chin. "I’m not worthy of you. I only want money. And I can play the role of a perfect wife." Three sentences, three truths—she had no illusions, only needs.
Keith’s smile widened. He met her eyes. "Play? Shouldn’t it be ‘be’?"
"Does that mean you’ll choose me, Mr. Fu?" She was certain a man like him wouldn’t want someone craving real wifehood.
Their eyes locked. Keith drained his wine, pulled out his phone, and made a call. Within ten minutes, a man arrived with a contract. Dora signed her name, feeling as if she were in a dream. She’d sold herself in less than thirty minutes. A bitter smile tugged at her lips.
After the man left, Dora pointed awkwardly at the door. "Mr. Fu, if that’s all... I’ll leave you to rest." She turned to go, but a strong hand clamped around her waist. His masculine scent surrounded her.
"Shouldn’t we seal this marriage properly?"
Dora froze, her blood running cold. She hadn’t expected this so soon, yet his words held the weight of a command—no room for refusal. "Go shower," he said, his voice low and final.
That night, she was a trapped animal, with no escape from his embrace. In the luxurious bed, even as the faint buzz of wine clouded her senses, she was acutely aware—of his searing passion, his quiet dominance, and the fleeting tenderness he let slip now and then. Every moment of pleasure and pain was etched into her memory, impossible to erase.
The next morning, the bed beside her was empty. In its place lay a neat dress, a $30,000 check (the agreed sum), and the indelible marks of the night before. Holding the check, her eyes watered, but no tears fell.
An urgent call jolted her into action, and she rushed out. Once she was clear, she dialed home. "Dad, my sister got a bonus—we sent $3,000 over. Make sure Mom’s fracture is properly cared for, and take care of yourself too..."
As she hung up, her best friend Maggie Ding panted toward her. "Dora! Where’ve you been? Your calls went unanswered, and the money got returned to me—your card’s faulty! I’ve been looking everywhere!" She handed over a bank card.
Tears burst from Dora’s eyes. "Too late. It’s too late!"
"Dora! What’s wrong?" Maggie fumbled for tissues. Dora pulled a crumpled flyer from her bag. Maggie unfolded it, muttering, "Keith Fu? The Keith Fu? Next Monday? You’re joining the selection?"
"What?!" Dora snatched the flyer back, scrambling for her phone. The selection final was next Monday—not this one, as she’d mistakenly thought. She’d overheard waiters talking about his stay, found the flyer, and spent her last dollars bribing a waiter for the uniform and ten precious minutes.
It was a reckless mistake—but somehow, she’d gotten exactly what she’d begged for. The deal was sealed, and the money she needed was finally within reach.
She laughed bitterly. "It’s fate. One night changed everything. There’s no going back."
"Dora, talk to me!"
"I’m fine." She wiped her eyes, forcing a smile. "Maggie, can you do me a favor? Return the money. And don’t tell him you saw me—or where I am."
Maggie gaped. "Dora? Are you crazy? What’s going on?"
"I’ll explain later."
- Writer
