The door creaked open, revealing Lucas in a casual all-black attire.

"I heard from your right-hand man that you...wanted to see me?" asked Melody warily.

Lucas stayed silent, coldly turning and heading inside. Melody reluctantly followed.

The interior of the house was elegantly simple, yet it exuded an expensive aura that outshone anything the Sanders' residence owned.

Melody stood in the living room, keeping a cautious distance. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Sit." Lucas placed a folder on the table. "If there's anything you're not happy with, we can still make changes."

Melody picked up the folder, confused. When she turned to the first page, the bold words left her dumbfounded.

agreement? What does this mean? Who's getting

Lucas casually sipped his coffee as if his words

maintaining the marriage for a year in exchange for an annual compensation

want to turn me into his sugar baby? He really sees me as someone

Melody found the whole agreement to be ludicrous, so she closed the folder and placed it back on the table. "I have no interest in what's

to leave, her phone rang. It was a call from

coldly as Melody walked away, neither making a move to stop her nor uttering a word. After all, if it were not for the

hotel that morning, Beatrice's nagging phone call about marriage came flooding in,

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