My Mind-Reader's Billionaire Fiancée

A week ago, Sara helped an elderly man on the street. It might have seemed like she struck gold—turns out the elder was none other than Charles Hoover, the head of the prestigious Hoover family in Astoria. Was she really that lucky? As soon as Charles laid eyes on her, he made a decision that turned her life upside down. Just a few days ago, Charles arrived at Sara’s house with a signed contract offering a lucrative partnership with the Hoover Group. He wanted her hand in marriage for his grandson, Frank Hoover. This morning, her parents didn’t waste any time. They sent her straight to the Hoover Villa with a strict warning. “Behave impeccably in front of Mr. Hoover,” her father insisted. “If you mess it up, say goodbye to your allowance. But if you succeed and win the Hoovers’ favor, I’ll double it. Make that tenfold!” That meant a staggering ten million per month! Sara’s eyes lit up at the prospect. After all, she still remembered the time her family business hit rock bottom, leaving her hungry and desperate. She swore she’d never live that way again. Her goal was to have a bank balance of at least a billion. And so, here she was, ready to play the perfect, well-mannered lady, even if the act made her feel uncomfortable. However, she had to be careful not to let Frank, her fiancé, fall for her. The deal was simple that she secured her monthly allowance, acted the part, and once she’d earned enough, she’d propose a divorce. Her thoughts snapped back to reality as she glanced at the man across the table, a cold chuckle escaping her lips as she mused. 'The youngest and most capable heir in Hoover family history, huh? Completely uninterested in relationship? Perfect! I don’t care about men anyway, but I sure can act!' Frank’s hand froze mid-flip as he flipped through his documents. What was that sound? Confused, he glanced up just in time to see his so-called fiancée piling food onto his plate. He wanted to ignore it, but his grandfather shot him a look. A few days ago, Charles had gone on one of his unsupervised walks, only to sprain his ankle after being knocked over on the street. A passing lady not only helped him up but also took him to the hospital. The lady was Sara Gunn. The moment Charles saw Sara, he decided she was the perfect match for Frank and set about arranging the engagement. Frank had refused outright, but his grandfather went on a hunger strike until he caved. Reluctantly, Frank agreed, assuming the Gunn family would never agree to such an outrageous proposal. To his surprise, Sara accepted without hesitation. Now, Frank couldn’t make sense of the situation. Under his grandfather’s watchful eye, Frank begrudgingly picked up his fork. Just as he was about to take a bite, Sara swiftly reclaimed the food she had placed on his plate and instead served it to Charles with a smile. "Charles, you should try it." Frank blinked in confusion. In fact, Sara quickly realized her mistake. ‘Dad only told me to impress Charles, not Frank. Why should I be nice to him? The more he hates me, the better! If he can’t stand the sight of me, I won’t have to keep up this act all the time!’ Once again, Frank heard her voice. He looked at Sara, bewildered. The restaurant was booked exclusively for them, and she hadn’t spoken aloud. Yet her movements coincided perfectly with the thoughts he was hearing. Was she capable of telepathy? Or… could he hear her thoughts? Noticing his gaze, Sara feigned politeness despite the irritation bubbling inside her. “Mr. Hoover, is something wrong?” Frank opened his mouth to reply, but her inner voice interrupted him, tinged with annoyance. 'What are you staring at? Don’t like what you see? A grown man can’t pick up his own food? It’s not like your arms are in a cast! What, you can’t take care of yourself?' 'Dad’s got the nerve to marry me off to a cripple! How tragic!' Frank was speechless. It was clear now, the voice was undeniably Sara's. Why could Frank hear Sara's thoughts? To test his theory, Frank stealthily served a morsel onto Sara’s plate. “It’s nothing, try it.” Charles looked astonished. Sara was equally shocked and instantly resumed her inner monologue. 'Wait a minute. Isn’t Frank supposed to dislike women? Then why is he serving me food? Does he not see me as a woman? Could it be my stunning beauty has won him over?' ‘No way! I can’t let him fall for me!’ Frank sighed internally. It was confirmed, the voice was Sara's and he could hear it. After dinner, Frank was itching to make his escape, but Charles insisted he give Sara a tour of the Hoover Villa. Luckily, Sara wasn’t too keen on mingling with him either. The moment they were out of Charles's sight, she concocted an excuse and slipped away. ***** In the Hoover family garage. Sara’s eyes widened as she walked among rows of luxury cars. Each one was a limited edition, worth millions. Sure, her family didn’t lack money, but seeing so many high-end cars in one place still left her feeling envious and desirous. As she was lost in thought, she noticed a group of mechanics in matching uniforms approaching, probably there to pamper the cars. “Be extra careful with Mr. Hoover’s cars,” one of them said. “Especially the limited-edition model. Scratch it, and we’re done for!” “Yeah, I heard someone once scuffed a side mirror, and Mr. Hoover had him blacklisted from the industry!” "Exactly, no one knows where that guy is now!" "So, who's going to drive the car? I don't have the guts!" Sara’s curiosity piqued. 'Frank truly has a temper. Perfect. If I act a little spoiled, he’ll definitely hate me.' Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the mechanics sneaking up behind her. When she suddenly turned around, she stumbled over a toolbox that had mysteriously appeared at her feet, and in an instant, she fell forward, landing right on the hood of a car. "Yikes!" Sara bit her lip in pain as the lead mechanic turned to look at her. He’d seen Sara sneaking around earlier and assumed she was a gold digger trying to marry into the Hoovers. He had no right to meddle in their family affairs, but now Sara was sprawled over the most valuable car in the garage. If anything happened to it, he’d be the one paying the price. He rushed over to Sara, eager to shoo her away. “Get off the car!” he barked. “Do you really think a gold digger like you has any place in the Hoover family?” Sara was utterly flabbergasted. 'A gold digger? Someone targeting the Hoover family? Was he seriously calling her that?'