Lu Rowan's Penthouse - 6:30 PM

The elevator doors opened to reveal Lu Rowan's private residence—a study in modern minimalism with floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased Shanghai's glittering skyline. The space was all clean lines and muted colors, beautiful but somehow impersonal, like a magazine spread waiting for someone to actually live in it.

Lu Rowan found Mei curled on the cream leather sofa in the sitting room, her small form dwarfed by the oversized cushions. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, and there were creases on her cheek from where she'd been resting against the arm of the couch. She looked so beautiful, small and young, so vulnerable, that something protective stirred in his chest.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, settling beside her on the sofa. His hand moved instinctively toward her forehead to check for fever.

Mei dodged slightly, still not used to people's touches, but Lu Rowan's expression stopped her retreat.

"Mei, there's no time to be shy with me," he said, his voice firm but kind. "I chose you, so I'm going to care for you. We're partners now and you're going to see more of this often."

His hand finally made contact with her forehead, his touch careful and warm. She wasn't feverish, but he could feel the exhaustion that clung to her like a second skin.

"What did your family say?" she asked quietly, her eyes searching his face for signs of regret or disappointment.

"Less than I expected," he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "More than they should have. But that's not your concern."

Mei frowned. " I'm the reason you're in trouble with them."

"You're the reason I finally stood up for something that matters," he corrected, his hand moving to cup her face gently. "There's a difference."

Before she could argue further, he shifted into what she was beginning to recognize as his planning mode the type that suggested an executive taking charge of a situation that needed managing.

"Tomorrow we're going shopping," he announced. "I noticed you don't have clothes with you."

Mei looked down at the same outfit she'd worn to the hospital, to the registration office, through all the chaos of the past two days. "These are… "

"These are the clothes of someone who was never allowed to choose for herself," Lu Rowan interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "Tomorrow you're going to pick out things you actually like."

"And Sunday we're going to the Lu Mansion," he continued. "My grandmother wants to meet you."

Mei's face paled slightly. "Your grandmother?"

"She's... formidable," Lu Rowan admitted. "But she respects strength, and you have more of that than you know."

He paused, studying her reaction. "I almost forgot—tomorrow we're also going to the company gala, and you're going as my wife not as a Skyline employee. I expect you to hand in your resignation letter to Skyline tomorrow morning and I'll accompany you."

"There's no need… Mei started to protest, but the expression on Lu Rowan's face made her words die in her throat.

His eyes held a protectiveness that was almost fierce, and his jaw was set in a way that suggested this wasn't up for discussion.

"There's every need," he said quietly. "You're not walking back into that place alone to face the people who hurt you alone."

The certainty in his voice, the way he spoke as if her wellbeing was his personal responsibility, made something flutter in Mei's chest. It was partly gratitude, part fear that she had never experienced something like this , part something else she couldn't quite name.

"I don't know how to be someone's wife and l took this as a business but now am seeing the reality of what marriage is," she whispered, the admission escaping before she could stop it.

Lu Rowan's expression softened. "I don't know how to be someone's husband either," he confessed. "But I know how to be a partner. How to have your back when things get difficult. How to make sure you never have to face anything alone again."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to something almost intimate. "We'll figure out the rest as we go."

Mei looked up at him—this man who had turned his entire world upside down for her, who spoke of caring for her like it was as natural as breathing—and felt something shift inside her chest, hope that maybe and for the first time in her life, someone was actually seeing her as worth protecting.

"Okay," she said simply.

Lu Rowan smiled, and for the first time since she'd known him, it reached his eyes completely.

"Good. Now, are you hungry? I can cook, or we can order something. Whatever you prefer."

The casual way he asked for her preference, as if her wants actually mattered, made Mei's throat tight with unexpected emotion.

"Whatever you prefer is fine," she said automatically, then caught herself. "I mean... could we maybe order something? I'd like to try choosing for myself."

Lu Rowan's smile widened. "Now you're getting the idea."

As he reached for his phone to pull up delivery options, Mei settled back against the sofa cushions and watched him was this man teaching her that she was allowed to want things. That she was allowed to matter.