Contract Marriage: The President's Stand-in Lover - Chapter 9:

Emotional Awakening

After Gu Chen left, Vivian sat on the carpet for a long time.

The chill from the floor seeped through the thin fabric of her dress

until she shivered and finally came back to herself.

Her lips still burned from that kiss harsh, punishing, and searingly hot.

The faint scent of cedar lingered in the air, the kind that clung to his every breath.

When her trembling fingers brushed her lips, a small sting reminded her it hadn’t been a dream.

Now, do you know who you belong to?

His voice still echoed in her ears, low and rough,

laced with possessiveness that made her skin prickle.

Who do I belong to? she mocked inwardly. Just the woman he bought,

bound by a contract, wearing the name Mrs. Gu.

But another, quieter voice whispered in her mind If it were only that,

why use a kiss like that instead of a cold warning?

Was that kiss really just anger and ownership?

Her thoughts tangled.

That kiss had been brutal, almost feral. Yet beneath the fury,

there had been something else a hidden heat that made her heart race,

something she couldn’t name.

She had been kissed before. With Li Hao, her ex, those moments were tender,

clumsy, and sweet. Gu Chen’s kiss was nothing like that.

His was a storm wild, consuming, a force that devoured her until she forgot to breathe.

It terrified her, but buried inside that fear was something even more dangerous,

a trembling desire. Vivian, have you lost your mind?

What are you even thinking?

She shook her head violently, as if she could fling the thought away.

Her legs were weak when she stood. She stumbled into her bedroom

and locked the door behind her. Leaning against the wood,

she could hear her heart pounding like a drum loud and erratic,

echoing through the silence of the night.

She didn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw those dark eyes burning with anger and

something deeper. She felt again the heat of his breath, the dominance of his touch,

the taste of him.

She should have felt only humiliation and rage and she did but woven through

them was a spark of something she couldn’t deny.

Something that made her ashamed. Something dangerously close to longing.

No, impossible. How could I ever feel that for a cold,

selfish man who only sees me as someone else’s shadow?

The next morning, Vivian went downstairs late, hoping to avoid him.

Gu Chen was already gone. She breathed easier. The housekeeper,

Aunt Wang, greeted her with a kind smile, but Vivian brushed off her questions about her pale face.

The day crawled by. Even at work in the foundation, she couldn’t focus.

Her eyes kept darting to her phone, or to the door as if she were waiting for someone.

But he didn’t appear.

What are you even waiting for? she scolded herself. Did you really think one reckless kiss

would change anything?

And yet, something had changed.

She started to notice him in the little things he left behind

the dip in the sofa cushion where he usually sat, his favorite white porcelain coffee cup,

the single armchair by the window where he liked to read.

She began to piece him together through the whispers of the staff.

Mr. Gu doesn’t like food with heavy spices.

He always drinks warm lily porridge when he works late it helps him sleep.

That crystal paperweight on his desk belonged to his grandmother.

He never lets anyone touch it.

Each detail was a puzzle piece, slowly forming an image of a man far more

complex than the cold CEO or the business partner bound to her by a contract.

She realized, with a start, that she wanted to understand him.

That night, when he finally came home, it was already late.

Vivian heard the soft sound of his footsteps upstairs, and her heartbeat quickened against her will.

His steps paused briefly outside her door, then continued toward his own room.

When she heard his door close, she let out the breath she’d been holding.

Relief washed through her followed by an inexplicable sting of disappointment.

See? He doesn’t care.

She turned over in bed, restless. Then came a faint sound from the next room

a muffled cough. Aunt Wang had mentioned his exhaustion lately, his poor appetite.

Without thinking, she slipped out of bed, pulled on a sweater, and crept downstairs to the kitchen.

There were still fresh ingredients in the fridge. She wasn’t much of a cook,

but she remembered enough to make something simple.

Millet and pumpkin mild, soothing, good for the stomach.

The soft bubbling of the pot filled the quiet kitchen.

The firelight painted her face in a warm amber glow.

Vivian, what are you doing? Trying to please him because of that kiss?

her reason whispered.

No, she murmured to herself. I just… owe him.

He saved the Lin family, paid my father’s hospital bills.

I’m just… returning the favor. That’s all.

When the porridge was done, she ladled it carefully into a small bowl and placed it on a tray.

After hesitating for a long moment, she couldn’t bring herself to knock on his door.

Instead, she left the tray on the living room table, beside a small note written in her delicate hand:

Warm porridge helps if you can’t sleep.

No signature.

Then she hurried back to her room, heart racing, face flushed as though

she’d done something scandalous.

The next morning, the tray and bowl were gone.

Aunt Wang was setting the table when Vivian came downstairs.

The woman smiled knowingly. “Miss Lin, the young master praised the porridge this morning.

Said it was very good.”

Vivian froze. Her heart gave a tiny, traitorous leap, rippling like a stone thrown into still water.

He drank it… and he liked it?

She forced a calm nod, but her lips curved just a little higher than usual all day.

What she didn’t know was that, after she left, Gu Chen stood quietly on the second-floor landing,

his eyes following her as she walked toward the dining room.

His fingers still remembered the warmth of the bowl he’d held at dawn,

the golden hue of the pumpkin porridge, the note written in graceful script.

It had been a long time since anyone had cared for him without motive, without calculation.

He watched her slender figure below, and for the first time, found himself wondering

who was this woman he’d bound to his side with a contract?

Beyond the face that reminded him of someone else, who was she, really?

And in her room, Vivian touched her flushed cheeks and stared at her reflection in the mirror.

The woman staring back no longer had the calm, distant eyes of before.

There was confusion there now, and something softer, warmer.

Something had changed between them.

The image of the cold, emotionless husband she thought she knew was blurring,

replaced by a man far more complicated and far harder to resist.

Her heart, caught in a marriage born of business, was quietly, helplessly, beginning to fall.

And this game she thought she could control… was slipping far beyond her reach.