The office was quiet.
Too quiet.
Tang Yueru sat alone in the Lu Corporation's glass-walled conference room. Her phone buzzed every few minutes with headlines, pings from Wen Qi, or silent calls from unlisted numbers.
She didn't answer any of them.
She couldn't.
Because at this moment, all she could hear was the echo of that one damning word: Forgery.
---
"Tell me again," she said softly, eyes locked on the printed version of the contract laid before her.
He Ruo stood nearby, composed but tense.
Shenyan remained silent beside her.
She tapped the page again. "Tell me how this isn't mine when I remember signing it."
He Ruo exhaled slowly. "It was yours. But someone digitally lifted your signature and altered the terms."
"What terms?"
"The date. The clauses. The wording on mutual consent. It now reads like a backdated forgery meant to benefit you—not Mr. Lu."
Yueru's stomach turned.
"They're making it look like I trapped him into marrying me," she said flatly.
He Ruo didn't deny it.
---
Lu Shenyan still hadn't moved. He'd barely blinked.
But then—he did.
He reached across the table, gathered the pages, and tore them clean in half.
Both Yueru and He Ruo stared.
"This is their weapon?" Shenyan said, voice calm. Dangerous. "Then they'll have to do better."
"But the board—" He Ruo started.
"I'll handle the board," he said. "You find out who fed them this."
He Ruo nodded and left.
Shenyan looked at Yueru.
She didn't speak.
He didn't either.
But for the first time, it wasn't silence that sat between them—
—it was rage.
Shared. Cold. Controlled.
---
Hours later, Yueru stepped outside for air.
That's when she saw him.
Leaning against the building like a devil in designer shoes.
Zhou Linwei.
Smiling like sin.
"Been a while," he said, pushing off the wall.
Yueru froze.
"I don't have anything to say to you."
"Oh, but I do." He stepped closer. "It's been what, a year? Since you left me at the altar of your father's ruined empire?"
She narrowed her eyes. "I didn't leave you. You sold my name to cover your debts."
He shrugged. "Tomato, tomahto. You moved on. Married up. Good for you."
Yueru turned to walk away.
Until he said—
"Shame if your little fairytale turned into a fraud investigation."
She froze again.
"You leaked the contract."
He smirked. "Leaked is such an ugly word. I prefer redirected attention. After all, it's not like you ever told him the full story about what happened with your father's collapse, did you?"
Her blood ran cold.
"You wouldn't—"
"I would," he whispered. "And I will. Unless... we come to an understanding."
He handed her a card.
> Zhou Linwei — Private Investment Group
"Restoring what was lost. One signature at a time."
---
Back in the penthouse, Yueru sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers trembling around the card.
She hadn't told Shenyan about her past with Linwei.
About the loans.
About her father's desperate deals.
About how Zhou had almost bought their family name before she walked away—and married Shenyan instead.
She looked up when he entered.
He paused at the door, studying her face.
"You saw him."
It wasn't a question.
She nodded slowly. "He said he has proof. That I lied. That I orchestrated this marriage."
Shenyan didn't flinch.
"Did you?"
"No."
A beat.
"Would you tell me if you had?"
Her throat tightened. "I didn't marry you for love, Shenyan. But I didn't marry you to hurt you either."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Then let me protect you."
---
Later that night, a formal notice was sent to the board:
> "The CEO and Mrs. Lu will publicly address the rumors in a joint press conference within 72 hours."
It was a risk.
But it was a declaration too.
They wouldn't run.
Not this time.
---