The woman felt his coldness and glanced at his desk, where documents had piled up like a mountain, asking softly, "Evan, am I bothering you?"
Even though she was his unofficial wife, the future mistress of the Anderson family, with this deeply mysterious man, she still had to be careful with her attitude. Despite growing up together, she still felt like she hadn't found her place in his heart.
Engaged to him, Marry felt like the happiest woman in the world. She loved him sincerely, but ironically, she had never truly understood this man.
Even though he was her unofficial husband, most of the time, he remained aloof towards her, as if they were newly acquainted strangers.
Or perhaps this man had always been like this—domineering, and cold-hearted. But she had never seen him treat anyone tenderly. Except Dennis.
Only in front of Dennis did he not have that haughty demeanor.
Evan's thin lips curved slightly, his impersonal voice tinged with a hint of hesitation. "No."
Marry smiled gently, her heart leaping with joy, her eyes brimming with deep love.
She slowly approached him, her two seductive arms reaching out, intimately embracing his shoulders, her voluptuous figure pressing against his chest. Her narrowed eyes gradually drew closer to that handsome face, aiming for those sensual thin lips.
Suddenly, Evan's gaze turned even colder. He tilted his head slightly upwards. Marry's kiss fell on his chin.
Marry's face stiffened, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked up at him, feeling a pang of bitterness.
Seeing him glance away, she couldn't help but feel resentful. How could she forget! Even though they were not officially married, his lips were still off-limits. Being with her was like a mere formality, and no woman was an exception.
Marry felt frustrated and aggrieved, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Evan, do you love me? Please answer me seriously, do you truly love me? Or are you just obeying your grandfather, treating our relationship as a duty?"
She could continue to endure, but today, seeing him with another woman in that magazine, she would still feel upset and angry!
Evan remained deep in thought, his face expressionless, as if Marry wasn't in front of him, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
Marry couldn't bear it. Once again, she leaned in towards his lips. He didn't avoid her touch, but pushed her away with some distance.
"Marry, don't start trouble."
Marry laughed bitterly, feeling heartbroken. She knew he would avoid her because he never kissed her, not even another woman. The cold and indifferent heir of the Anderson family. Despite being surrounded by many women, none were special in his eyes.
Even though she was his unofficial wife, the rightful mistress of the Anderson family, the woman closest to him, she had never been an exception.
Did he truly love her? Or did he see her as a source of comfort?
Or was he not even a source of comfort, not even willing to accompany her on occasions?
She had always doubted, if not for, the arranged marriage set by their grandfathers. If his grandfather hadn't arranged this marriage, would he have looked at her even once? If he loved her, why didn't he want to kiss her? He had never even said, "I love you."
But she loved Evan with a humble, hidden, and tolerant gesture. His status was noble, proud, the heir of the Anderson family. No matter how much her grandfather loved her, to him, she was just another person trying to climb high.
So she constantly comforted herself. She was Evan's fiancée, the future legitimate mistress of the Anderson family. Therefore, she didn't compare herself to others, tried to satisfy herself. But she still had greed, constantly wanting him, wanting his heart.
Marry smiled bitterly, her voice low, "Do you truly... want to be with me, Evan?" Evan seemed unfocused, his expression blank. Marry saw him not answering and couldn't help but hold on to his sleeve tightly.
"Evan, do you truly love me? Answer me!" Evan pushed her away, returning to his desk, his voice neither warm nor cold, "Marry, don't be capricious."
He cast a sharp glance, his indifferent tone low and deep, as if pacifying a troublesome child.
But where was she being troublesome?
More than a decade ago, Marry was brought to the Anderson family by his grandfather, leading to their engagement in front of him. In this city, the Anderson family was an influential clan, and Marry was raised by his grandfather as a proper, dignified heiress. She loved him, but he did not love her.
For him, this engagement was acceptable, given his aristocratic background. He simply complied with his grandfather's wishes.
With his personality, whether or not a woman caused trouble didn't matter. This marriage was just to please his grandfather, and he and Marry were no exception, merely a mutually beneficial pair. Before the eager eyes of the Anderson family relatives, so many coveted his position. And he merely used the engagement as a bridge to expand the FPT Corporation.
Love? For him, that was too extravagant.
What was love, anyway? Were women who flattered him for their own gain? Or was it Marry's capricious arrogance?
In this materialistic age, wealth and desire are intertwined. Who still talked about feelings?
Except for his mother, he had loved no one. Affection, love, were distant things beyond reach. He was cold, shutting the doors of his own world.
In the business world, he was ruthless. You could talk to him about interests, but don't expect to enter his heart.
Express feelings? Ridiculous.
Suddenly, the landline rang, and Marry handed it to him. He heard the secretary relay the message: "Mr. CEO, the young master is here."
Footsteps echoed outside the door, and shortly after, the office door swung open, revealing a small head.
"Dad!" The boy saw Evan not rushing towards him, strolled in, noticing Marry was also here, his face slightly unnatural, casually calling out, "Mom!"
Marry felt somewhat uncomfortable seeing this. She didn't know why, even though she was his mother, they weren't close at all. After all, she didn't give birth to this child. They didn't share the same bloodline, so their relationship wasn't as intimate as that of other mothers and children.
This boy was also very sensitive, except for Evan. He seemed quite distant from others. Normally, he was a spitting image of his father, as if molded from the same mold, serious like a young patriarch, not at all like a child, very mature.