Fake dating my enemy, The playboy billionaire

JUNJIE

The kids have finally gone, and the silence that follows their departure is almost suffocating.

The entire evening, my eyes never left Yiren. Every time I glanced her way, that same question popped back into my mind, gnawing at me like a splinter under my skin.

Why didn’t she accept Suyin’s project?

It’s not just any project; it’s a major one. The kind of opportunity that architects would practically fight over. And yet, Yiren, a fresh architect trying to establish her firm, passed it up. Why? What are her motives?

I can’t wrap my head around it. Is she doing this because moving to Imperial City goes against what I want? But this is all fake, right? Why would she care about what I think? Does she feel obligated to me, even though our relationship is just an act? Is it possible that for once, she actually considered me?

The thought feels foreign. Every woman I’ve encountered has always had some ulterior motive. It’s hard to believe that Yiren—someone I consider my enemy since childhood—would be any different. Could she really be putting me first, even if it means giving up such a massive career boost?

’You are just a manchild. A rich spoilt brat who is given everything on a silver plate.’

’Women look for a partner like your brothers, who can provide them care, safety, love, and family. You are nothing like them.’

’No woman will ever fall for a manchild like you. You can be a timepass but never a serious thing.’

I shake my head shaking the words that still hurt me.

I can’t stop the flood of questions. And the more I think about it, the more agitated I become.

I fake a smile when the kids include me in their conversations, even planting a kiss on my cheek as they leave. But as soon as they’re gone, the mask drops. I’m back to grumpy. The switch flips.

Yiren’s busying herself with clearing the table, her movements purposeful as she gathers the dishes into the kitchen sink. I should help her, especially since she did all the cooking, but I know myself too well. If I go over there now, I’m going to say something that will start World War III. I’m in a mood, and she’s the last person I need to see right now.

So, I do what I do best: run.

I grab my things and head straight for my office, shutting the door behind me like it can lock out the storm brewing inside me. I can feel Yiren’s eyes on my back as I walk away, leaving her to handle the cleanup. It’s not fair, I know. But I remind myself—this is fake. She shouldn’t expect anything from me, and I shouldn’t expect anything from her.

I sit at my desk, my phone has yet another message from Yiren to Bruce.

Yiren: Help me and I promise to sing praises in front of Jun and root for a promotion for you. No promises though. But I’ll do my part with 100% dedication.

I snort. A promotion?

Bruce: No.

I toss my phone down onto the desk with more force than necessary, the loud clatter echoing in the room.

After a minute, I walk out to the balcony connected to both my study and bedroom, stripping off my shirt and trousers on the way. I slip into the hot tub, the water immediately working on my sore muscles, the steam rising into the cool night air. The mix of the chill on my skin and the heat from the water feels oddly soothing.

I tip my head back, resting it on the edge of the tub, trying to clear my mind. I should feel relaxed, but all I can think about is Yiren. The unanswered questions, the motives I can’t figure out. She’s tied up in every thought, even though I came out here to get away from her.

The city lights twinkle in the distance, but the view doesn’t hold the same peace it usually does. What I wouldn’t give for a glass of whiskey right now.

But that would mean going back into the kitchen, back to where she is.

And I don’t want to see her. Not now. Not when I’m this close to shaking her and demanding to know what the hell is going through her mind.

My lids open at the sound of the sliding door as Yiren steps onto the balcony with a towel wrapped around her chest and a glass of wine in hand. Through the rising steam, she hasn’t seen me yet or maybe pretending to not see me?

I should make a sound like clear my throat or cough or splash foot in water but instead I stare at her. She drops the towel to the floor, leaving herself in a sexy bikini that barely covers her assets. The wind is chili, her hands come wrapping around her mid and she steps towards the steaming Jacuzzi.

"Hey! You are here." She whispers, sounding surprise? Or is that her perfect acting?

"Looks like."

"I-I’ll go back." She turns, bending down to pick the towel from the floor, giving me the perfect view of her azz.

"That’s fine." Oh shut up, Jun! Let her go. Be smart. "This tub is big enough for you to join as well."

"Um... You sure? You look like you needed some alone time."

Ah so she too notice the change in my mood. Looks like I wasn’t as subtle as I tried to be. Or maybe she’s just too good at reading the situation. I tip my head back, close my eyes, and sink deeper into the water. "Get in, bunny. Stop acting."

"Wow. And he’s back to being an asshole..."

I hear soft muffled steps on the wet floor, water rippling against my chest and then someone settle herself into the tub. Her foot brushes mine but she pulls it away with a gasp. It was enough time for me to get a kick in my extremities and feel something. I groan.

"Alright, Uncle Juju, spill it."

I didn’t open my eyes to look at her, "Nothing."

"Try that again, but this time keep your eyes on me."

Damn she’s persistent.

*****