The biting scent of money and power hung heavy in the air, a familiar aroma that clung to Aldrich like a second skin. He had just dismissed another nameless woman, her purpose fulfilled, another transaction completed. His phone buzzed, a jarring intrusion into his post-coital haze, and the name on the screen made his jaw clench. His father.

"I want you home in 15 minutes," the furious voice bellowed, cutting through Aldrich's irritation. He dressed, each movement a testament to his impatience, and sped towards the mansion that felt less like a home and more like a fortress of expectation. The girl he’d left behind, a discarded plaything, had asked when they'd meet again. His reply, a single, brutal word: "Never."

Upon arrival, his father's fury was palpable. Then came the bombshell: "Your wedding is the following week." Aldrich's world, meticulously built on self-interest and financial gain, threatened to shatter. He was to marry Sianna Gomez, 'that nerd,' a woman he barely remembered, let alone desired. The reason? A debt, a promise made decades ago, and the ultimate threat: the remainder of his empire, donated to charity if he refused.

His father’s words echoed: "I'm confident you'll make it to the end because I believe you two were MADE FOR EACH OTHER." Aldrich scoffed. Made for each other? He'd rather lose an arm than spend his life with a woman who had nothing to offer him but 'heart.' The solution proposed was a contract marriage, one year, no strings attached. A means to an end, a temporary inconvenience for a permanent fortune. He had a plan, a cold, calculated strategy to ensure his wealth remained intact, even if it meant a year of pretense.