He Begs Now, But I've Become The Prize He Couldn't Afford To Lose
Chapter 1
By nine in the evening, sitting at the vanity, Corinne Nash was staring at a trending post on her phone, her chest tightening with every word.
"The CEO of Prime Group personally showed up at the airport to pick up his former tutor—after years of keeping every woman at arm's length, she was the only one he treated with such quiet tenderness."
In the photo, Ryland Becker, a man who was usually impossible to read, looked uncharacteristically gentle. Nestled close against his side, Jessica Walker wore an ivory dress and cradled an extravagant bouquet of roses.
Years ago, Jessica had been Ryland's high school tutor, only one year older than him.
At the time, Ryland had been infamous as a reckless troublemaker, the kind of son who gave his family one headache after another.
Yet somehow, in only a few short months, Jessica had turned that unruly boy inside out, molding him into a flawless heir everyone admired.
It was only natural for the two to develop feelings for each other. Whispers claimed the two had secretly married long ago, their silence merely a courtesy to Jessica's ongoing studies.
In reality, three years earlier, Corinne had accidentally cornered Ryland into signing a marriage contract—one that bound them together for exactly three years.
With a full month still remaining on that agreement, he had already hurried to bring Jessica back, unwilling to wait even those final days.
Fingers curled so tightly at Corinne's side that her nails carved deep crescents into her palm, the sting barely registering before she abruptly slipped off the wedding ring she had never once removed and tossed it into the trash.
Just then, the bedroom door burst open. A cool rush of night air swept inside, laced with the heady aroma of red wine. A faint haze of alcohol dimmed Ryland's pale eyes. As he crossed the room with long, unsteady strides, he loosened his tie and, without a second glance, grabbed her phone and tossed it to the bed.
"Honey, don't always keep your focus on your phone." A husky murmur brushed along her neck, his breath warm against her skin. "Look at me more, will you?"
Before she could react, he pulled her into his chest, his fingers sliding beneath the thin fabric of her nightdress with an ease that spoke of habit.
A faint trace of sandalwood lingered on him—yet beneath it, another fragrance clung stubbornly, unmistakably not her own.
Revulsion flared in her chest, and she shoved him back without hesitation. "I just got out of the shower—don't touch me."
Ignoring her resistance, he caught her wrist and forced her backward against the vanity, the hard edge pressing into her spine as he dragged her hand down toward his belt.
"Don't worry. We can have a bath together once we finish," he murmured.
Behind closed doors, the same Ryland who seemed distant and untouchable in public revealed a far more reckless, unrestrained side of himself.
Coming from a man with a face like his, those words carried a dangerous, almost intoxicating edge.
Anyone who witnessed this version of him might easily believe he was hopelessly in love with her, willing to indulge her without limits.
Yet Corinne understood the truth all too clearly. Years earlier, he had paid an exorbitant price to pull the Nash family out of ruin. In his eyes, she had never been anything more than a possession he had acquired—and in moments like these, she was expected to play her part.
Corinne tried to get up, but before she could, his fingers had already slipped beneath the thin strap of her nightdress and drawn it loose from her shoulder.
A shadow flickered across his eyes, deepening into something unreadable as he leaned closer, lowering his head toward her lips.
A faint, involuntary sound slipped past Corinne's lips before she could swallow it down.
From the very beginning, he had understood every one of her sensitive spots, pressing them with effortless precision.
No matter how much she resisted the truth, their bodies had always fallen into the same dangerous rhythm in moments like this.
What a cruel joke, when none of it had ever meant anything real.
Before she could steady her thoughts, his wandering hand had already slid deeper, igniting a sharp jolt through her nerves.
"Ryland!" A rigid tension seized her, her breath catching as her voice came out tight and uneven. "I'm on my period… not tonight."
Since their marriage was coming to an end, it was better for them to stop doing intimate things.
At once, he halted. Despite the heat still pulsing through him, he reined himself in, his restraint sharp and deliberate.
A burning intensity lingered in his eyes as they fixed on her flushed cheeks, his breath coming unevenly where it brushed her skin.
"It's only the sixteenth—it's just been ten days," he said.
Corinne was rendered speechless—she couldn't find a better excuse right now.
He hesitated for a brief moment, then, instead of pushing further, he lifted her into his arms and carefully laid her down on the bed.
"So why were you still working this late? And this close to your last cycle… are your periods irregular? Have you been under too much stress lately? If something's wrong, you need to tell me," he said softly.
A sharp ache pricked through Corinne's nose. Keeping her gaze lowered, she didn't dare look at him, afraid one glance would reveal far too much.
He had always been like this—tender, patient, infuriatingly thoughtful. Over the past three years, that steady gentleness had worn down her defenses little by little, until she had almost forgotten how ugly and humiliating the start of their relationship had been.
Yet Jessica's existence always dragged her back to the truth, cold and merciless, reminding her exactly what she was to him and exactly where she belonged.
She shouldn't immerse herself in this false happiness any longer. If she didn't end it now, the pain waiting for her later would only be worse.
"Ryland, we need to end this once and..."
Before she could get the words out, his phone suddenly rang. With just a single glance, she saw the name glowing on the screen. Jessica.
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