The Obsessive CEO's Beloved
Not for love, but for that million.
My dad lost money gambling, the loan sharks showed up at our door, and the Lewis Family said if I married Charles to ward off bad luck, they'd clear the debt.
Charles Lewis is the heir of the Lewis Family, the richest in H City, but he's a sickly man.
The wedding was grand, with red silk hanging all over the villa, yet I couldn't feel a thing.
It was at the altar that I first laid eyes on Charles Lewis.
He sat in a wheelchair, his face pale as paper, but his eyes were cold enough to freeze.
"So, you came here just for the money?" He spoke, his voice weak but dripping with disgust.
I gripped the hem of my dress and didn't deny it. "Yes."
"A country girl—straight to the point, huh?" He let out a cold sneer and wheeled himself into the bridal chamber.
At night, a woman dressed in a maid's uniform came in carrying a bowl of medicine; she was Amy.
"Mrs. Lewis, Mr. Charles needs to take his medicine now. Please attend to him." Amy pushed the bowl toward me, her tone dripping with disdain.
I took the bowl and went over to Charles Lewis. "Time to take your medicine."
He didn't move, and Amy sneered mockingly beside him, "Some people, once they've gotten the money, should do their part instead of acting like absentee bosses."
I glanced at Amy and put the medicine bowl on the bedside table. "Amy, I'm the Lewis Family's officially wedded young mistress. Taking care of Mr. Lewis is my choice—not something for you to boss around."
Amy was stunned for a moment, clearly not expecting me to talk back. "How dare you speak like that, girl!"
"How I speak is none of your business." I straightened up. "If you think I'm doing a bad job, you can tell the Matriarch to kick me out. But when that happens, who'll ward off bad luck for Mr. Lewis? And whether the Lewis Family will still come up with a million to help pay off my family's debt—that's another matter entirely."
Charles suddenly chuckled, then looked at Amy. "Amy, step outside."
Amy's face darkened, but she didn't dare argue. She only gave me a sharp glare before turning to leave.
The room was left with just Charles and me. He looked at me and said, "Didn't expect you to be pretty good at talking."
"You gotta know something to survive," I replied. I lowered my head, not daring to meet his eyes.
The next morning, when I woke up, Charles was already awake.
He was leaning against the headboard, holding a newspaper. Seeing I was awake, he tossed it aside. "Libby, let's make a deal."
I sat up. "What deal?"
"You stay with the Lewis Family for a full year. I'll give you an extra million, then we get a divorce." He looked at me. "During this year, you have to play the role of Mrs. Lewis flawlessly. No one can suspect a thing."
I thought about it. Two million a year is quite a bargain. "Alright, but I have conditions."
"You go ahead."
"For this whole year, you're not allowed to interfere in my life. Besides necessary occasions, we keep our distance." I laid out my demands.
Charles raised an eyebrow. "You're pretty good at making demands."
"Likewise." I shot back.
From that day on, we fell into this strange pattern of interaction.
He remained harsh toward me, always laced with sarcasm and mockery.
Once, I was watching TV in the living room when he rolled over in his wheelchair and said, "Libby Quinn, can't you do something worthwhile? All you do is eat, drink, and have fun. Really just a greedy woman."
I switched off the TV and looked at him. "Everything I eat and use comes from the Lewis Family. If you can't stand it, you can let me go."
"You think I don't want to?" His face darkened. "If it weren't for my mom, I would have divorced you long ago."
"Then wait until your mom agrees before we talk about it." I stood up, ready to head back to my room.
"Wait!" he called after me. "There's a family gathering next week. You have to come with me."
"Got it." I didn't look back and walked straight away.
On the day of the family gathering, many relatives showed up. Everyone gathered around Charles Lewis, asking how he was doing and occasionally throwing curious looks my way.
An aunt smiled and asked, "Charles, this must be Libby Quinn, right? She looks quite well-behaved."
Charles stayed silent. I smiled and said, "Hello, Aunt. I'm Libby Quinn."
"Mm, pretty good." Aunt nodded, then went back to chatting with the others.
Halfway through the party, Charles said he wanted to get some fresh air in the garden, and I followed him.
The garden was very quiet. He stopped his wheelchair and said, "Libby, do you really think you're clever? That you tricked the Lewis Family out of their money?"
"I didn't trick anyone; you gave it willingly." I looked at him. "Besides, I've fulfilled my duty—playing the role of Mrs. Lewis."
"Duty?" He sneered coldly, "Your so-called duty is just eating and sleeping all day?"
"So what do you want me to do? Wait on you while you dress and eat?" I shot back, "Charles Lewis, we're just in a business arrangement. Don't expect too much from me."
He was at a loss for words, his face growing even paler.
A few days later, he suddenly said, "Libby Quinn, I want a divorce."
I froze. "Now? Didn't we agree on one year?"
"I don't want to stay with a gold-digging woman like you anymore." His voice was resolute. "I'll give you ten million. You leave the Lewis Family immediately, and keep our divorce a secret."
Ten million, much more than before.
I was moved, but still asked, "Why do you suddenly want a divorce?"
"None of your business." He turned away, "You just need to tell me whether you agree or not."
"I agree." I answered immediately, "But I need to get the money first."
"The money will be transferred to your card. Pack your things and leave today." After he said that, he pushed the wheelchair into the study.
I went back to my room and started packing.
Actually, I didn't have much—just one suitcase.
Just as I finished packing, Amy came in. "Mrs. Lewis, where are you going?"
"I'm leaving." I zipped up my suitcase.
Amy froze for a moment, then smirked: "What? Did Mr. Lewis kick you out? I told you, women obsessed with money can't keep a man's heart."
I ignored her and pulled my suitcase as I walked out.
Just as I reached the door, I ran into Madam Lewis, Charles's mother.
"Libby Quinn, where are you going?" Madam Lewis looked at me with a puzzled expression.
My chest tightened; I didn't know what to say.
Charles came out of the study. "Mom, I'm the one who told her to leave."
"You're going to let her go? Why?" Madam Lewis's face darkened. "You've only been married for such a short time, and now you want to kick her out?"
"Mom, I just can't get along with her." Charles lowered his head.
"Even if you don't get along, you have to work on it!" Madam Lewis snapped. "Libby is the daughter-in-law I chose—you can't just drive her away like that!"
She looked at me again: "Libby, don't leave. If anything's wrong, talk to me—I'll take care of it for you."
I looked at Madam Lewis, then at Charles, and suddenly changed my mind. "Madam, I'm not leaving."
Charles Lewis looked at me in surprise, "Libby Quinn, you..."
"Mr. Lewis, about the divorce we talked about before, I've changed my mind." I looked at him, "I think we can try again."
Madam Lewis was pleased, "See, no couple goes without arguing. Just be more understanding with each other."
Charles's face darkened, but he didn't dare argue with Madam Lewis, only shooting me a fierce glare.
Since then, Charles Lewis never brought up divorce again, but our relationship remained tense.
However, in front of others, we pretended to be a loving couple.
One time, Madam Lewis took us shopping together, saying she wanted to buy me some new clothes.
We stopped at a women's clothing store. Madam Lewis picked up a dress and said, "Libby Quinn, this one suits you. Try it on."
I took the dress and went into the fitting room.
When I came out, Charles Lewis was playing on his phone. Hearing the noise, he looked up and his eyes lingered for a moment.
"Well? Does it look good?" Madam Lewis asked him.
He looked away and said coolly, "It's okay."
I knew he was just saying that, but somehow, I felt a little happy inside.
Since then, I began learning how to cook.
Charles Lewis isn't in good health and needs to eat light food, so I make sure to prepare different nutritious meals for him every day.
At first, he refused to eat, saying the food I made probably wouldn't taste good.
"Just give it a try. If it's bad, you can always throw it away later." I handed the bowl to him.
He hesitated for a moment but still took the bowl and tried a bite.
"Well? How is it?" I watched him nervously.
He didn't say anything and kept eating.
Since then, he's eaten the meals I prepare every day.
When Madam Lewis found out, she was even more satisfied with me: "Libby Quinn, you really are a good girl. Charles is lucky to have married you."
I smiled and said, "Madam, this is what I'm supposed to do."
One night, Charles suddenly said to me, "Libby, let's do a fake divorce."
I froze. "Fake divorce? What do you mean?"
"My mom's been pressuring us to have a child lately. I don't want to get too tangled up with you, so we'll do a fake divorce. After a while, I'll tell her we've reconciled." He explained.
"What's in it for me?" I asked.
"I'll give you an extra two million, and during the fake divorce, you can still live in the Lewis Family, just like before." He said.
I thought about it—getting money from a fake divorce without actually having to leave seemed like a pretty good deal. "Alright, but I have one condition: during the fake divorce, you can't interfere with anything I do, including who I spend time with."
"Okay." He agreed immediately.
We quickly completed the fake divorce paperwork but still presented ourselves as husband and wife in public.
Days went by, and my relationship with Charles Lewis slowly started to ease.
He stopped being so sarcastic and would occasionally say a few words to me.
Once, while I was cooking, I accidentally cut my hand. Seeing it, he frowned and said, "How can you be so careless?"
He took out a first aid kit and helped me bandage my wound.
His movements were gentle, and when his fingers brushed my skin, I felt a faint warmth.
"There, be more careful from now on." He finished bandaging me and put the first aid kit away.
"Thank you." I whispered.
He said nothing and turned to walk away.
I watched his retreating figure, and suddenly felt something stir deep inside me.
Charles Lewis's health gradually improved, and he was able to walk on his own.
One day, he told me he wanted to go out for a walk; I didn't object.
But after he left, he didn't come back until night.
Madam Lewis was frantic, making calls everywhere trying to find him.
Just then, Charles came back, followed by several bodyguards.
"Charles, where have you been? Why are you only just back now?" Madam Lewis stepped forward and grabbed his hand.
Charles kept his head down, saying nothing.
One of the bodyguards stepped forward and said, "Madam, Mr. Lewis went to a bar today and even had some drinks."
Madam Lewis's face darkened. "Who told you to go drinking at a bar? Don't you know your health isn't good?"
Charles still said nothing but suddenly looked at me. "Was it you who told Mom?"
I froze. "I didn't."
"If not you, then who? Who else in the family would be so nosy?" His tone was sharp, clearly convinced I was guilty.
I really didn't. I felt so wronged, not understanding why he would suspect me.
"Stop denying it!" He stepped forward, trying to argue with me.
Just then, the butler walked in: "Madam, Mr., I'm the one who told the Madam. It has nothing to do with the young mistress."
Charles froze and looked at the butler. "Why you?"
"Sir, your health isn't good. You can't go to places like that. I'm doing this for your own good." The butler lowered his head and said.
Madam Lewis sighed, "Charles, you've misunderstood Libby Quinn. Apologize to her at once."
Charles Lewis's face darkened, but he still said to me, "I'm sorry, I was wrong about you."
"It's okay." I whispered, though I still felt a bit uneasy inside.
A few days later, Charles's sister, Jessica Lewis, returned from abroad.
Jessica is several years older than Charles and runs a successful business overseas.
On the day she returned, Madam Lewis held a welcome banquet.
At the banquet, Jessica looked at Charles and asked, "Charles, how's your health? I heard Mom say you're much better now."
"Sis, I'm much better now. I can walk." Charles said with a smile.
"That's good." Jessica nodded, then looked at me. "So this is Libby Quinn, right? Mom's mentioned you a lot."
"Hello, sister. I'm Libby Quinn." I smiled and greeted her.
"Mm, pretty good." Jessica smiled, then took Charles's hand. "Charles, come with me for a moment. I have something for you."
They went into the study. After a while, Charles came out holding a photo album.
"This is from my sister. It's full of pictures of me as a kid." He told me.
I leaned in for a closer look. Charles Lewis looked so adorable in the photo—completely different from the cold man he is now.
"I never expected you to be this cute as a child." I said with a smile.
He glanced at me without a word, but the corners of his mouth curled into a faint smile.
Jessica Lewis stayed with the Lewis Family for a few days. She often chatted with Charles, encouraging him to pull himself together and stop isolating himself at home.
Thanks to Jessica's encouragement, Charles's mood improved significantly, and he became a little more upbeat.
One day, Charles said to me, "Libby Quinn, I want to go out and work."
I was surprised: "Are you sure your health can handle it?"
"I think I can. I want to give it a try." His eyes were steady and determined.
"That's great. I support you." I said with a smile.
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