The iron gates of the Lu estate opened without a sound, gliding apart like they were bowing to royalty.
Shen Yaojin sat in the back of the black luxury car, fingers tapping against his knee. The city slowly disappeared behind him, replaced by endless trees, private roads, and silence that felt too expensive to breathe in.
He had seen pictures of the Lu family estate before—everyone in the city had—but photos never captured scale.
This place wasn't a house.
It was a kingdom.
Tall walls surrounded the land, dotted with discreet cameras and armed guards who bowed slightly when the car passed. The main building loomed ahead, all glass and black marble, sleek and cold, like its owner.
Lu Zhiyuan sat beside him, expression unreadable, hands folded calmly in his lap. He didn't even glance out the window, as if he had grown up surrounded by this level of luxury and no longer noticed it.
Yaojin did notice.
And he hated that a small part of him felt intimidated.
The Arrival
The car stopped under a wide canopy. A line of staff stood waiting—maids, butlers, chefs, security—each dressed in neutral colors, heads lowered.
"Welcome home, Young Master Lu. Welcome, Young Master Shen."
The words felt heavy.
Home.
Yaojin stepped out, his shoes touching the polished marble driveway. The air smelled clean, artificial, controlled. Nothing like the chaotic warmth of his old apartment.
Lu Zhiyuan walked ahead, not waiting for him. Not leading either. Just moving like he owned the ground under his feet—which he probably did.
Yaojin followed, hands in his pockets, trying not to stare like a country kid visiting a palace.
Inside the Mansion
The doors opened automatically.
The lobby was enormous. High ceilings, glass walls, modern art pieces that probably cost more than entire buildings in the city center. A grand staircase curved upward, disappearing into shadows.
"This is the main building," Zhiyuan said calmly. "Your room is in the west wing."
West wing.
Of course he would be placed far away.
Staff followed behind them like ghosts, quiet and efficient. Cameras were hidden in corners, barely noticeable unless you looked for them. Yaojin noticed them all.
"So," he muttered, "I'm a guest in your museum?"
Zhiyuan glanced back briefly. "You're my legal partner. Guests can leave. You can't."
Yaojin scoffed. "Romantic."
The Separate Bedroom
They walked through long hallways until they reached a quiet corridor. Zhiyuan stopped in front of a tall door and opened it with a fingerprint scan.
"This is your room."
Yaojin stepped inside.
The bedroom was massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows, king-sized bed, minimalist furniture, a private lounge area, and a balcony overlooking the city skyline. Everything was black, white, and gold—luxury without warmth.
A beautiful cage.
"And yours?" Yaojin asked casually.
"East wing."
Far. Intentionally far.
"So we're neighbors in a very large prison."
Zhiyuan didn't react. "You'll have your privacy. Staff won't enter without permission. Public areas have surveillance."
"Of course they do."
He walked to the balcony and looked down. From here, the city looked tiny. People looked like ants. Power felt real.
This is the world of alphas like him, Yaojin thought. And I just got dragged into it.
The Staff
A middle-aged woman bowed slightly. "I am Madam Li, your personal maid. If you need anything, I am available at all times."
"At all times," Yaojin repeated softly. He looked at Zhiyuan. "Do I get a schedule too?"
"No," Zhiyuan said. "You get monitored."
Madam Li pretended not to hear that.
The Rules
They returned to the main hall where a bodyguard handed Yaojin a tablet.
House rules.
Security policies.
Media protocols.
Public behavior expectations.
He skimmed through it.
Hold hands in public.
Smile for cameras.
Appear affectionate at events.
No scandals.
"Fake dating, huh," Yaojin murmured.
Zhiyuan nodded once. "Our parents expect perfection."
"And in private?"
"We ignore each other."
Yaojin smiled faintly. "I like that rule."
But something about the way Zhiyuan watched him suggested he didn't fully mean it.
The Trip Announcement
Dinner that night was silent. They sat at opposite ends of a long table, servants placing dishes with perfect precision.
Midway through the meal, Zhiyuan's phone buzzed. He checked it once, then looked up.
"We're leaving tomorrow."
"For?"
"Business trip. Officially." He paused. "Unofficially, our parents want us seen together."
"A honeymoon?" Yaojin joked.
Zhiyuan's eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't use that word."
Yaojin smirked. "Relax. It's just a show."
He didn't mention that he had never traveled like this before. Private jet. Five-star resort. The thought made his chest tighten with unfamiliar excitement and unease.
The Night Before Departure
Later, Yaojin wandered through the mansion alone. The halls were quiet, lights dimmed, staff moving silently like shadows.
He stopped at a large window overlooking the gardens. The estate was lit softly, fountains glowing, trees swaying gently in the night breeze.
Footsteps approached.
Zhiyuan stood beside him, hands in his pockets, gaze fixed outside. They didn't touch. Didn't speak.
Yet the silence felt louder than any argument.
"You regret this," Zhiyuan said quietly.
"I regret being controlled," Yaojin replied. "You?"
Zhiyuan hesitated. Just for a second. "I regret nothing."
Yaojin turned to him. "Then don't pretend to care."
He walked away, heart pounding, not knowing why that brief hesitation bothered him more than the entire contract.
Foreshadowing the Trip
Back in his room, he packed slowly. Designer clothes lined the wardrobe, chosen by stylists he had never met. Everything was prepared for him.
All I have to do is exist and smile, he thought bitterly.
He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the city lights.
Tomorrow, he would step deeper into Zhiyuan's world.
Tomorrow, the city would see them as a perfect couple.
Tomorrow, pretending would become reality in everyone's eyes.
And the scariest part?
He wasn't sure when pretending would stop being pretending.