Chapter 4

"Chloe, this penthouse and the lambo have to be under my name before the wedding."

Three days before the wedding, Ethan slammed a property transfer agreement onto the coffee table.

He lounged back on the sofa, lit a cigar, and blew a cocky puff of smoke into the air.

"You’re an orphan. In my family’s eyes, your bad luck already brought down your parents."

"I’m a brilliant, handsome young designer with a golden future. Marrying you despite the social backlash has made my parents back home feel incredibly embarrassed. They think I'm settling."

"This thirty-million-dollar penthouse and the fifteen-million-dollar supercar are just my mental compensation."

I looked at the agreement on the table, amused by how he could dress up utter shamelessness as a noble sacrifice.

The penthouse and the Lamborghini were bought with my own cash, totaling forty-five million dollars.

With just a wave of his hand, he wanted to take it all for free while acting like he was doing me a favor.

"Ethan, I bought these in full before the wedding."

I pretended to be heartbroken, my eyes welling with tears as I looked at him with a trembling voice.

"I’ve spent all my savings to buy you a home and a car. Why are you forcing me to sign them over?"

"Do you even love me? Or are you just after my money?"

Ethan frowned impatiently, snubbing his cigar out in the expensive crystal ashtray.

"What nonsense are you talking? If I didn't love you, would I have spent three sleepless nights carving that jewelry set for you?"

"That set is a hand-carved masterpiece! Priceless! Wealthy socialites beg me for custom work and get rejected!"

"Besides, you have no family. Who else is going to take care of you if not me? What's wrong with me taking some of your assets? It's your chance to show your commitment!"

"If you won't sign them over, then this wedding is off!"

He stood up abruptly, pretending to walk out—a classic manipulation tactic he had mastered.

Amber, who had been sitting quietly peeling an apple, immediately stood up and grabbed his arm.

"Ethan, please don't be mad."

She turned to me, putting on her best "sweet, innocent helper" act.

"Chloe, I hate to say this, but you're being really unreasonable. Ethan is so good to you. He gave you his sweat and blood with that jewelry set."

"These are just material things. You can't take them with you when you die. If you love Ethan, you should trust him completely."

"Or does a pile of cold concrete mean more to you than Ethan’s love?"

Watching these two put on their little show almost made me laugh out loud.

"Fine. I’ll sign."

I took a deep breath, pretending to break down and surrender.

"But before I do, you have to sign this."

I pulled a document from my bag—one I had prepared long ago—and handed it to Ethan.

"What’s this?"

Ethan took it warily, a flash of suspicion in his eyes.

"A prenuptial agreement regarding gifted assets."

I pointed to the detailed clauses, keeping my voice soft and submissive.

"I can transfer the penthouse and the car to you. But you must guarantee that the jadeite jewelry set you carved remains solely mine."

"You cannot gift, sell, pawn, or even lend that set to anyone else."

"If you violate this, you must pay me double the value of the penthouse and the car. That is ninety million dollars."

Ethan stared at the complex legal jargon, his brows furrowing.

He was a hack designer who built his career on plagiarism and marketing. He couldn't understand the legal traps hidden in those words.