I Chose The Ruthless Billionaire

Chapter 02: The Cold Threshold

Althea's Point of view

The contract signing was brief, cold, and transactional.

By nine o'clock that evening, I was legally Zhao Xian’s wife. There were no cameras, no white dresses, no congratulatory toasts—just a stack of legal documents written in English and Mandarin, requiring my signature in four different places.

While old Mr. Zhao beamed with satisfaction and his younger sons departed with lingering looks of amusement and pity, Zhao Xian had already left the estate in his private, sleek black Maybach. I was escorted into a separate, heavy luxury sedan by a taciturn driver named Master Lin.

"Where are we going?" I asked, watching the flashing neon signs of the city blur against the rain-slicked window.

"To young master Xian’s private residence in the hills, Young Mistress," Master Lin replied politely without breaking his eyes from the road. "He rarely stays at the main family compound."

Even better, I thought, letting my head rest against the leather seat. If he lived away from his family, it meant I wouldn't have to deal with old Mr. Zhao’s overbearing presence or his other sons’ wives. A quiet, secluded house meant a quiet, isolated life.

Besides, this was all temporary. The media would go wild over a billionaire heir marrying a random schoolteacher, but public interest always died down eventually. I just needed to play along, lay low, and build my own financial standing. Once a year passed and the news wasn't hot anymore, I would quietly hand him divorce papers. A clean, silent exit—no drama, no attachments.

Or so I hoped.

Forty minutes later, the sedan passed through heavy iron gates into a compound tucked away on a heavily guarded cliffside. The estate didn't look like a home; it resembled an architectural fortress of dark marble, glass, and steel, surrounded by manicured obsidian gardens and silent security personnel dressed in sharp charcoal suits.

When the car stopped, Master Lin opened my door, carrying my single, worn suitcase.

"Welcome to the Blackwood Residence," he said smoothly. "Young master Xian is waiting in the main study."

My throat felt dry as I stepped through the massive double doors. The foyer was vast, illuminated by low, dramatic lighting that cast long shadows across the black marble floors. The air was cool, smelling faintly of sandalwood and damp rain.

I followed Master Lin up a cantilevered floating staircase to the second floor. He stopped outside a heavy dark wood double door, gave two gentle knocks, and stepped back.

"Enter," a deep, quiet voice echoed from within.

Master Lin bowed slightly to me. "I will leave you here, Young Mistress. Your personal belongings will be placed in the guest wing."

I took a slow, deep breath, smoothing down my skirt. Stay strong, Althea. You got what you wanted. No wives to fight, no playboy husbands to avoid. Just a year with an icy billionaire who wants nothing to do with you, and then you get your freedom back.

I pushed the heavy doors open and stepped inside.

The study was massive, lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and dominated by a sprawling wooden desk. Zhao Xian sat behind it, his suit jacket removed, revealing a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. A pair of silver-framed reading glasses rested on his sharp nose as he reviewed a thick set of financial ledgers.

He didn't look up when I entered.

"Close the door," he said coldly.

I turned around, shut the heavy doors, and stood near the entrance, refusing to act like a scared intruder. "Good evening, Zhao Xian."

His pen paused on the paper. Slowly, he removed his glasses, set them on the desk, and looked up at me. His dark eyes were as piercing as shards of black glass.

"Here, you will address me as Xian, or Mr.

Zhao," he said, his voice smooth, deep, and devoid of warmth. "We are married on paper, Althea, but do not make the mistake of assuming this is a real partnership."

"I don't expect a real partnership," I replied immediately, keeping my voice level. "In fact, that’s precisely why I picked you."

One of his dark eyebrows arched slightly, the first hint of genuine reaction I had seen from him all day. "Is that so?"

"Yes," I said, taking two steps toward his desk. "Your brothers wanted a mistress or a third addition to their households. Your father wanted a grand gesture to clear his conscience. I wanted my freedom. I know your reputation, Xian. You don't like people, you don't do romance, and you care only about business. I won't invade your life, and in return, I expect you to let me build mine."

Zhao Xian leaned back in his leather chair, resting his chin on his steepled fingers. The quiet intensity in his gaze made the temperature in the room plummet.

"You think you’re clever," he murmured, his tone carrying an edge of cold amusement. "You believe you chose the path of least resistance."

"I chose the only rational option," I countered. "We give this marriage twelve months to satisfy your father and let the media circus die down. When the noise fades after a year, we quietly sign the divorce papers and go our separate ways. Neither of us loses anything."

"A year," he repeated softly, testing the words on his tongue.

"Twelve months," I affirmed. "That's all I need."

"My family is a nest of vipers, Althea," Xian said, standing up slowly. His towering six-foot-two frame cast a long shadow over the mahogany desk as he walked around to the front, leaning casually against the wood as he folded his arms. "Kai is a reckless fool, and Jin hides his greed behind a soft smile. But I... I don't hide what I am. A year in this house is longer than you think."

He took a step toward me. He didn't move fast, but his presence was overwhelming, radiating authority and danger. My pulse spiked, but I refused to take a step back.

"You saved my father, which makes you a target to every branch of the Zhao family who wanted his empire divided," Xian said, stopping mere inches away from me. I could smell the subtle scent of cedar and expensive whiskey on him. "By choosing me, you didn't escape the fire. You stepped straight into the heart of it."

"I can take care of myself," I said, tilting my chin up to meet his dark gaze. "I grew up with nothing and built my own career overseas. I'm not fragile, and I can survive a year."

For a fraction of a second, something flared in his eyes—a flicker of silent evaluation.

"We will see," Xian said quietly. He reached out, his long fingers lightly brushing a stray strand of hair away from my face. His touch was brief, cool, and sent an unexpected shiver straight down my spine. "Your quarters are in the east wing. My private suite is in the west. We keep separate lives, separate schedules, and separate business. You will be given a private account and full security clearance under my name."

"And the catch?" I asked, keeping my guard up.

"The catch is simple," he leaned in slightly, his deep voice vibrating near my ear. "Outside these walls, you play the loyal, devoted wife of Zhao Xian. If anyone tries to touch you, use my name to crush them. But inside this house, you do not meddle in my affairs."

I swallowed hard, feeling the sheer weight of his presence. "Agreed."

"Good," Xian stepped back, his expression instantly returning to its impassive, icy mask. He picked up his glasses from the desk and turned back to his files. "Master Lin will show you to your room. Do not stay up late.

Tomorrow, the press will announce our marriage, and your quiet life will officially end."

I stared at his back for a moment. He had already dismissed me, returning to his work as if I were nothing more than a passing shadow.

"Thank you, Xian," I whispered softly.

Without waiting for a reply, I turned and walked out of the study, shutting the heavy wooden doors behind me.

Standing alone in the dimly lit hallway, I touched the spot on my cheek where his fingers had briefly brushed against my skin. My heart was pounding hard against my ribs.

He was cold, dangerous, and completely detached—exactly what I had bargained for. A single year of playing his wife, enduring the media, and securing my business, and then I would hand him those divorce papers and claim the ultimate freedom I had been craving.

I thought I had a solid exit strategy. I had no idea what lived behind those steel walls, or how hard it would be to walk away when the time came.