Fake dating my enemy, The playboy billionaire

YIREN POV

I’m absolutely over the moon. Just last week, we officially broke ground on my first project for my startup. Every single member of my team was there to witness the milestone, and it felt surreal. All those hours spent on video calls, late nights full of stress, supplier negotiations, and countless hurdles now feel worth it.

If someone had told me a few years ago that I’d be here, doing this, I would’ve laughed in their face. Yet, here I am. And I have to admit, Bruce has been an invaluable part of this journey. He’s genuinely the best recruit I’ve ever made, always stepping up to support and push us forward.

But, of course, the universe has a twisted sense of humor. Because there’s this unspoken rule in the God’s book: After every good thing must be followed by a chaos. My end of the perfect week comes with a call from my lawyer.

"Miss Mo," he starts, voice formal and professional, "just a reminder that you only have six months left to secure your inheritance. If you don’t, Miss Ning will receive her half, and the rest will be divided among your relatives."

I taste bitterness on my tongue. No way am I letting my inheritance fall into the hands of those vultures—my dad’s five sisters. Those bitches never cared about us. "And is there a reason you’re repeating what I already know?" I snap, my patience thinner than paper.

"Um... I-I—" He stammers, clearly not prepared for my bluntness. "Mr. Kun has expressed his desire to meet with you."

"Who?"

"Mr. Kun Jie," he clarifies awkwardly. "The investment banker your father mentioned in his will. You know, the one you’d have to marry in order to secure your full inheritance- the second option to get inheritance."

Of course, I know. The whole ordeal has been hanging over me like a devil’s sword since Dad’s will was read. Now that Ning has completed the part of her conditions, if I marry this Kun guy, Ning and I get our inheritance without any further drama. But damn it, I don’t know anything about Kun Jie except that his father was one of Dad’s closest friends.

"Mr. Hao," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "let Mr. Kun know I’d rather jump off the Eiffel Tower than marry him. Thanks."

I hang up, feeling the frustration simmering in my veins. What a way to start the day.

"Marry my ass!" I shout, launching a pillow across the room. It smacks Jun square in the face as he emerges from the bathroom, towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist. Great timing.

"Quite a way to ask for marriage, Yiren."

I grab another pillow, punching it for good measure. "Not proposing to you, Juju. Chill."

He wipes away a mock bead of sweat from his forehead. "Phew! Thank goodness! Marrying you would be like signing up for a lifetime of free headaches. No thanks."

"You wish!" I retort. "I’d sooner elope with a cactus than be tied to you."

"Oh, really?" He saunters across the room, wearing nothing but that damn towel, his bare feet padding on the floor as he opens random drawers like he’s searching for something he lost—or maybe his brain. His muscles ripple with each movement, and my eyes betray me for just a second, trailing over the droplets of water trickling down his sculpted chest.

"Put some clothes on, dammit!" I demand, feeling my face heat up.

He crosses his tattooed arms over his damp chest, a wicked grin spreading. "I won’t. What are you going to do about it?"

I bolt off the bed, stomping toward him. "You do this crap, and I’ll copy you!"

He leans in, that infuriating grin still in place. "Don’t threaten me with a good time, bunny." His warm breath grazes my neck, sending shivers skittering down my spine. Perfect. Lean. Body. Inked with tattoos that I want to trace with my fingertips, sculpted pecs that seem carved from stone, and that tantalizing line of dark hair disappearing under the towel...

My brain stalls, and my heart decides to play drums in my chest. His smug voice pulls me from my daze. "Not fair, bunny."

I frown, trying to keep my composure. "What?"

"You get to ogle, but I don’t get a peek—"

Before he can finish, I whip the pillow at his face again, effectively smothering that smug smile.

*****

JUNJIE POV

"ARE you going tell me what this marriage deal is?"

"Nothing. Just a guy my dad mentioned in his will for me to marry."

I stop rifling through my closet, my hands freezing as Yiren’s words sink in. Jealousy flares up in my chest, mingling with a sudden, unreasonable anger. "And?"

She shrugs from her own corner of the walk-in closet, casually sorting through her clothes. "He wants to meet me once."

My jaw clenches. Like hell she’s meeting him.

"And I told the lawyer I’d rather jump off the Eiffel Tower than marry him." She tosses her hair over her shoulder, and a rush of pride surges through me. Damn right, Yiren. That’s how you deal with these stupid flies not worthy of you.

"Good. Don’t meet him. God knows what kind of creep he might be," I mutter, but my voice comes out gruffer than I intended.

She pokes her head out from behind her closet door, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. "Is that jealousy I hear, Mr. Feng?"

I scoff. "No."

"It’s definitely jealousy!"

"Still no."

"Try again."

"No."

"Oh my god, you’re totally jealous!" She laughs, reaching for her phone. "I’m going to call the lawyer and tell him to set up the meeting with Kun."

Before she can so much as touch the phone, I’m across the room, pinning her against the closet door. My hands cage her in, and her eyes widen, breath catching.

"What are you doing?" she whispers, her voice a mix of surprise and something else that makes my blood hum.

I lean in, my lips brushing her ear. "Reminding you of our deal. While you’re with me, you can’t even think about another guy."

"I don’t remember ’thinking’ being prohibited."

A gasp escapes her as I hoist her up and set her on the island counter in the center of the walk-in closet. Her hands instinctively wrap around my neck, and I hook mine under her bare thighs, spreading her knees apart.