A Crown of Suitors: The Muse They Can't Have

Chapter 6 Three Million Dollars

Deborah was momentarily startled by Zane's furious outburst. She pulled her wrist free from his iron grip, rubbing the spot where he had squeezed too tightly.

'What a psycho!' she cursed inwardly. 'I couldn't care less about your tragic love story. You asked, and I answered!'

Despite her irritation, Deborah kept her composure, her expression calm and controlled.

She knew what she wanted, and losing her temper now wouldn't help her.

"Mr. Runcorn," she said steadily, "I understand you have your secrets, and I won't pry. My point is, my presence can help shield you from Madam Runcorn's relentless matchmaking. Once you're free to be with the one you love, I'll leave. In the meantime, I can treat your poison. You'll have your health, your freedom, and your true love. Isn't that a win-win?"

Zane hesitated for a few seconds, his brows furrowed as he studied her. "What do you want in return?"

"Money," Deborah replied without hesitation. "You pay me, and I'll help you keep up this act."

Zane hadn't expected such a straightforward answer. He raised a brow, intrigued.

"Just money? Nothing else?"

Deborah shook her head, her gaze steady.

Zane's eyes lingered on her face, searching for hidden motives. When he found none, a snort escaped his lips.

Money was the least valuable thing to him.

He'd dealt with plenty of women driven by greed, and this one seemed no different.

Still, they were simple enough to handle.

"How much do you want?" he asked.

Deborah held up three slender fingers. "This much per month."

Zane's expression darkened immediately.

This country girl had some nerve! Her appetite was clearly larger than her station.

But after some consideration, he realized that the sum wasn't unreasonable if it meant silencing his grandmother's constant nagging and potentially curing the poison in his system.

"Fine," he said, his tone clipped.

"Three million dollars it is. But here's the deal—if you don't cure me within a month, you won't see a single cent."

Deborah froze, her eyes darting between her fingers and Zane's handsome features.

How much?

Three million dollars?!

She couldn't believe her ears.

She had initially intended to ask for a modest 30 thousand dollars per month, just enough to cover her living expenses.

Staying with the Runcorn family was more about hiding her true identity and leveraging their power to investigate her mother's death.

The money was just a ploy to make her appear simple and non-threatening.

The Runcorns were filthy rich, and asking too little might make Zane suspect her even more. So, she decided to ask 30 thousand dollars per month.

But three million dollars?

Before she could respond, Zane's icy voice broke her thoughts. "My assistant will draft the contract and deliver it to you. Remember, this is a transactional relationship. Don't start thinking you're actually my wife."

Whatever Deborah had planned to say was swallowed in her throat.

'Fine. Let him think he's making a grand gesture.' She smirked inwardly. For a man like Zane, a few million dollars was pocket change.

Considering she'd saved his life and provided a temporary shield for his family politics, he was the one getting a bargain.

"Rest assured, Mr. Runcorn," Deborah said, her lips curving into a smile. "If there's one thing I excel at, it's knowing my place. Within a month, you'll be as good as new."

Her smile lingered as Zane studied her, his gaze flickering with something akin to recognition.

Those clear, bright eyes... Why did they feel so familiar?

Shaking off the thought, he averted his gaze and said coldly, "I won't interfere with your private matters, but don't forget—to the outside world, you're Mrs. Runcorn. I won't tolerate anyone suggesting I've been made a fool by my own wife."

Deborah grinned mischievously. "Understood. I'll make sure not to embarrass you in public."

Zane's expression darkened further. Did she mean she'd only embarrass him in private?

But then again, with her plain appearance, the likelihood of such scenarios seemed laughably slim.

The thought was almost absurd enough to make him smile. But he didn't. Instead, a look of disdain flickered across his face.

Just then, the door creaked open.