The Grand Palladium Hotel sparkled like a diamond against the night sky, its crystal chandeliers casting rainbow reflections across marble floors worth more than most people's homes. Tonight, it hosted the wedding of the century—the union between the Lục real estate empire and the crumbling Thẩm family fortune.
But beneath the glittering facade, the atmosphere felt as cold as winter frost.
Thẩm Tịnh Dao stood before the ornate mirror in the bridal suite, her reflection a vision in ivory silk and delicate lace. The wedding dress, worth half a million yuan, should have made her feel like a princess. Instead, it felt like a beautiful cage, trapping her in a fate she never chose.
Her fingers trembled as she adjusted the diamond tiara—another symbol of the wealth that would soon own her completely. The stones were flawless, each one probably worth more than her father's company made in a month. Before it went bankrupt, she reminded herself bitterly.
"Miss Thẩm, it's time." The wedding planner's voice cut through her thoughts like a blade.
Dao took a shaky breath, her reflection staring back with eyes that held both fear and stubborn determination. She had made her choice. Her family's survival depended on this marriage, this contract, this sacrifice of her freedom.
The massive ballroom doors opened with ceremonial grandeur, and a collective gasp rose from the three hundred guests. Dao walked down the endless white carpet, each step echoing in the suffocating silence. The flower petals beneath her feet felt like autumn leaves—beautiful but dying.
Whispers followed her like poison in the air.
"Look at her... so plain compared to Lin Qian."
"How did a nobody like her catch the attention of Lục Trạch Hạo?"
"The Thẩm family must have offered something incredible. Money talks, after all."
"Poor girl doesn't know what she's gotten herself into. The Lục family will eat her alive."
Each cruel word pierced her heart like glass shards, but Dao kept her chin high, her steps steady. She had learned long ago that showing weakness only invited more cruelty.
At the altar stood the man who would become her husband in name only—Lục Trạch Hạo.
Even she had to admit he was devastatingly handsome. At thirty-two, he commanded every room he entered with an aura of absolute power. His tailored black tuxedo emphasized his tall, imposing frame, and his sharp features could have been carved from marble by a master sculptor. Dark hair swept back perfectly, piercing black eyes that missed nothing, and an expression of cold indifference that made grown men tremble in board meetings.
But when those glacial eyes met hers, Dao saw nothing—no warmth, no affection, not even basic human courtesy. She was looking at a man who viewed her as nothing more than a business transaction.
The elderly priest began the ceremony with traditional words about love and devotion, each phrase a mockery of what this union truly represented. Dao's heart hammered against her ribs as the ritual progressed, bringing her closer to a point of no return.
"Do you, Lục Trạch Hạo, take Thẩm Tịnh Dao to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do you part?"
Hạo's voice was crisp and emotionless when he responded. "I do." The words held no more feeling than if he were confirming a stock purchase.
"And do you, Thẩm Tịnh Dao, take Lục Trạch Hạo to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death do you part?"
Dao's throat felt like sandpaper. The weight of three hundred stares pressed down on her shoulders. Her father's desperate face flashed in her mind—the man who had built everything from nothing, only to watch it crumble because of one failed project and ruthless competitors.
"I... I do." Her voice barely rose above a whisper, but it carried clearly in the silent ballroom.
The rings were exchanged with mechanical precision. Hạo's fingers were cold against hers, his touch lasting no longer than absolutely necessary. The platinum band felt heavy on her finger—a beautiful shackle that would bind her to a loveless existence.
"You may kiss the bride."
This was the moment Dao had been dreading most. Hạo stepped closer, his imposing height forcing her to tilt her head back. For a split second, something flickered in his dark eyes—was it annoyance? Disgust? Then his hands gripped her waist with barely contained impatience, and his lips brushed hers in the coldest, most perfunctory kiss imaginable.
It was over in two seconds, leaving Dao's lips tingling not with romance, but with the sting of rejection.
The guests erupted in polite applause that sounded more like a funeral dirge than wedding celebration. Camera flashes exploded like lightning, capturing every moment of what the media would call "the love story of the decade."
If only they knew the truth.
The reception that followed was a blur of congratulations that felt more like condolences. Dao smiled until her cheeks ached, accepting well-wishes from people who looked at her like she was already a ghost.
But the real torture came during the contract signing.
In a private room away from the guests, lawyers spread documents across a mahogany table. The marriage contract—twenty pages of legal terms that reduced their union to cold, hard clauses. Dao's hands shook as she tried to read through the small print, but the words blurred together.
Separate bedrooms. Limited public appearances. No interference in business affairs. The contract was more detailed than most corporate mergers, and just as heartless.
"Having second thoughts?" Hạo's voice cut through the silence like a whip.
Dao looked up to find him studying her with those merciless black eyes. He sat across from her with the casual arrogance of a king on his throne, completely unmoved by the magnitude of what they were about to sign.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he continued, his tone dripping with disdain. "The Lục family name, the money, the status. Don't tell me you're developing a conscience now."
Heat rushed to Dao's cheeks, but she forced herself to meet his gaze steadily. "I never pretended this was anything other than a business arrangement."
"Good. Then we understand each other perfectly." He leaned back in his chair, studying her like a predator assessing prey. "Because let me make something crystal clear, Miss Thẩm—or should I say, Mrs. Lục. This marriage might give you access to my family's resources, but it will never make you worthy of truly being one of us."
The words hit her like a physical blow. Around the table, lawyers and family representatives shifted uncomfortably, but no one dared to speak. In the Lục family hierarchy, Hạo's word was law.
"Do you really think you're worthy of stepping into the Lục family?" He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow felt more threatening than shouting. "You're a charity case, nothing more. A way to clean up the mess your father made. Don't ever forget that."
Dao's vision blurred with tears she refused to shed. Her chest felt tight, making each breath a struggle. But through the pain and humiliation, something else stirred—a ember of defiance that had kept her going through years of struggle.
She picked up the gold pen with steady fingers, her voice quiet but clear when she spoke. "I understand completely, Mr. Lục. This is a business transaction. Nothing more, nothing less."
The pen moved across the paper with deliberate strokes as she signed her name—Thẩm Tịnh Dao—for what might be the last time as a free woman.
Hạo's signature followed, bold and commanding, sealing their fate.
As the lawyers gathered the documents and the family representatives began to disperse, Dao remained seated, staring at her hands folded in her lap. The diamond wedding ring caught the light, sending tiny rainbows dancing across the table.
She had saved her family. Her father's debts would be paid, her mother could keep her dignity, and her younger brother could finish university. The price was her freedom, her dreams of true love, and her self-respect.
But as she sat in that suffocating room, listening to Hạo dismiss her like an unwanted business expense, something hardened inside her chest.
You think I'm weak, she thought, her fingers slowly curling into fists beneath the table. You think I'll be another decoration in your perfect, cold world. You think you can crush my spirit with your money and your cruelty.
Her nails dug into her palms, the sharp pain grounding her in fierce determination.
But you're wrong, Lục Trạch Hạo. I may have signed this contract, but I will never let you break me. I will never let anyone trample on my dignity again—not even my own husband.
The wedding was over. The real battle was just beginning.
[End of Chapter 1]
Will Dao survive in the ruthless Lục family? How long can she endure Hạo's cold treatment? And what secrets are lurking behind this seemingly simple contract marriage?
Find out in Chapter 2: The Cold Wedding Night...