introduction

chapter one : the rent you pay for love

The scent of magnolia clung to her wrist.

Vivienne Blackwood sat quietly at the corner of the velvet café booth, hands folded, back straight, like the world might tilt if she slouched. The rain pressed soft music against the window beside her. Outside, the city was alive. Inside, she was waiting—for a stranger she’d hired to teach her how not to be… herself.

Her phone buzzed once.

Unknown Number: [“red code.two minutes ".]

She looked down at her pale blue cardigan, her soft hands, her untouched tea. Her reflection in the silver spoon looked too innocent. Too weak. Too "dumpable."

"you are just...too soft", her ex had said.

And left. Just like that.

No warning. No fight. Just a verdict.

She clutched her bag tighter. Somewhere in that bag was an envelope—thick, unmarked, sealed. Money.

And then he walked in.

A tall man in a blood-red trench coat.

His gaze skimmed the café like he was measuring exits.

Boots that didn’t belong to clean places.

A cigarette tucked behind his ear.

He didn’t smile. He didn't need to.

"Vivienne Blackwood"

His voice was deep. Unhurried. Almost bored.

She nodded. He slid into the booth across from her.

"No offense", he said, pulling off his coat, "but you look like the kind of girl who still cries at Disney movies".

She blinked. "i do".

His eyebrow twitched. "cute."

He reached for the envelope. She handed it to him like it burned her fingers.

He didn't count the cash. He just tucked it into his coat.

"Three rules ," he said. " You want to learn adult love , real love -- not Whatever pastel version of heartbreak your ex gave you -- then listen close."

She nodded again.

"One : I Don't kiss you unless you ask . clearly ."

"Two : I'll touch, but never take."

"Three : You can quiet anytime. But if you stay, I will break the girl you've been."

Silence.

He leaned closer, his breath warm near her temple. "Abd Vivienne? That girl--She's the one who keeps getting left behind."

Her throat tightened.

"Still want to do this ?" he asked, voice low.

She looked at him.

This man who reeked of sin and neon lights.

Who looked at her not like she was delicate, but unfinished.

She nodded. One more time. This time… slower.

He smirked, leaning back. "Good. lesson one starts tonight . Burn the dress you wore when he dumped. You."

She blinked. "what ?"

"You heard me, baby deer. We're gonna teach you how to stop bleeding pretty."

But what happens when a hired heart begins to beat for real?

When her soft hands no longer tremble at his touch—

but reach for it?

And what will he do…

when the girl he promised to change

becomes the one thing he’s afraid to lose?

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Christopher’s perspective about Vivienne:

> “She’s the kind of girl you ruin just by touching…

and God help me, I want to leave fingerprints on her soul.”

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