He Gave Me Away, I Couldn’t Be Happier
Ladys · Completed · 8.4k Words
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Introduction
I had a childhood arranged marriage with the Mu family. My unreliable dad just tossed me a New York address and told me to go inherit the company there.
They only broke the news to me after my plane touched down in New York: I could take over the family business only if I went through with the marriage.
I followed the address, only to be led winding through the streets by the men at the gate and taken to an abandoned construction site.
Along the way, the man guiding me feigned sympathy: “The Mu Group went bankrupt two years ago. They sold their house and company to pay off debts, yet still owe a fortune in loan sharks. Debt collectors hound him every day, and he always brings them here to talk. He works an office job by day and fights in underground boxing matches for cash by night—his life is nothing short of miserable.”
Hardly had he finished speaking when I heard the harsh clanging of steel pipes. A devastatingly handsome man was grappling with a dozen men, a steel pipe gripped in his hand.
His features were sharp, his jaw clenched tight. Blood trickled down his cheek from his temple, mixing with dust, carving out an air of broken ferocity about him.
Hell no—they’re picking on my future husband right in front of me?
The guide tried to say more, but I, a die-hard sucker for good looks, grabbed a steel bar beside me and charged straight in.
The brawlers froze for a split second at my sudden appearance, then plunged back into the fight.
Mu Qingye threw every punch with reckless brutality, and I, a multiple-time taekwondo champion, was no pushover either.
Once we’d chased the debt collectors off, I tossed the steel bar aside and watched Mu Qingye lean against the wall, gasping for breath.
His clothes were frayed and faded, and the bandage on his right leg was soaked through with blood, a glaring, vivid red.
He sat on the ground, lifted his eyelids to glance at me sideways, his eyes as cold as ice.
I stared at his outrageously handsome face, my heart racing wildly: “I’m Meng Shixia. Do you remember me? I—”
“I don’t know you.” He cut me off abruptly, staggered to his feet by leaning on the wall, and shot me another cold glance. “Stay out of my business.”
They only broke the news to me after my plane touched down in New York: I could take over the family business only if I went through with the marriage.
I followed the address, only to be led winding through the streets by the men at the gate and taken to an abandoned construction site.
Along the way, the man guiding me feigned sympathy: “The Mu Group went bankrupt two years ago. They sold their house and company to pay off debts, yet still owe a fortune in loan sharks. Debt collectors hound him every day, and he always brings them here to talk. He works an office job by day and fights in underground boxing matches for cash by night—his life is nothing short of miserable.”
Hardly had he finished speaking when I heard the harsh clanging of steel pipes. A devastatingly handsome man was grappling with a dozen men, a steel pipe gripped in his hand.
His features were sharp, his jaw clenched tight. Blood trickled down his cheek from his temple, mixing with dust, carving out an air of broken ferocity about him.
Hell no—they’re picking on my future husband right in front of me?
The guide tried to say more, but I, a die-hard sucker for good looks, grabbed a steel bar beside me and charged straight in.
The brawlers froze for a split second at my sudden appearance, then plunged back into the fight.
Mu Qingye threw every punch with reckless brutality, and I, a multiple-time taekwondo champion, was no pushover either.
Once we’d chased the debt collectors off, I tossed the steel bar aside and watched Mu Qingye lean against the wall, gasping for breath.
His clothes were frayed and faded, and the bandage on his right leg was soaked through with blood, a glaring, vivid red.
He sat on the ground, lifted his eyelids to glance at me sideways, his eyes as cold as ice.
I stared at his outrageously handsome face, my heart racing wildly: “I’m Meng Shixia. Do you remember me? I—”
“I don’t know you.” He cut me off abruptly, staggered to his feet by leaning on the wall, and shot me another cold glance. “Stay out of my business.”
Chapter 1
When I was little, my family arranged a marriage with the Russell Family. My unreliable dad just tossed me an Avalonia address and told me to go inherit the company there.
The plane landed in Avalonia, and only then did they inform me: I had to get married first before I could take over the business.
I followed the address, but the person at the door led me on a wild goose chase and dumped me at an abandoned construction site.
On the way, my guide fake-sympathized with me: "The Russell Group went bankrupt two years ago. They sold the house and company to pay debts, and still owe a ton of money. Debt collectors show up every day, and he always brings them here to talk. He works at a company during the day, goes to fight in an underground ring at night—living like a dog."
Right as he finished speaking, I heard the harsh clang of metal pipes. An incredibly hot guy was gripping a steel pipe, fighting off a dozen men.
His features were sharp, jawline tight, blood from his temple sliding down his face, mixed with dust, giving him this broken yet wild look.
Bullying my fiancé right in front of me?
Before my guide could say anything else, I grabbed a steel rod nearby and charged in.
The brawling men froze for a second at my appearance, then quickly went back at it.
Caspian Russell's every punch carried a desperate ruthlessness. But hey, I've won several championship belts—I'm not here to make up the numbers.
After we'd chased off all those debt collectors, I tossed aside my steel rod and watched Caspian lean against the wall, breathing hard.
His clothes were worn and frayed, his right leg's bandage soaked through with blood, shockingly red.
He sat on the ground, lifted his eyelids to glance at me sideways, his gaze cold as ice.
I stared at his ridiculously handsome face, my heart racing: "I'm Samantha Boleyn. Do you remember me?"
"I don't know you."
He cut me off directly, shakily propped himself up against the wall, then gave me another cold look. "Mind your own business."
Chapter 1
In a luxury villa downtown, wine and laughter flowed freely.
The guy who'd led me to the construction site was enthusiastically sharing with the group: "Mr. Russell, that fiancée of yours from back home is pretty impressive!"
The man sitting in the center of the sofa was the real heir of the Russell Family—Everard Russell.
He had his arm around a cute girl, lifted his chin, signaling him to continue.
"I did what you said and led her to the abandoned site to find Caspian. When she saw Caspian surrounded, she kicked the lead debt collector right in the face—I was stunned. Turns out she can really fight. She and Caspian together actually drove off a dozen big guys!"
Someone nearby laughed: "I bet she's faking it. She's just got brute strength, that's all."
"Mr. Russell, you're brilliant! Finding someone with the same last name as a stand-in. So many socialites are lining up to marry you. Who does that country bumpkin think she is, trying to marry above her station?"
"How long do you think she'll last?"
"They're two peas in a pod. A broke loser and a hick."
"If Caspian's good for anything, it's sharing a last name with Mr. Russell and taking the hit for this ridiculous engagement."
Everard let out an impatient click of his tongue. The woman in his arms immediately got up and walked away.
"You're sure that woman actually believed it?"
"Of course! But Mr. Russell, honestly, she's really good-looking—more stunning than TV stars."
Everard shot the guy a cold glance, and everyone instantly went quiet.
"What's my status, and what's hers? A twenty-year-old engagement, and she dares bring it up now. These small-town girls who chase money and status? I wouldn't touch one with a ten-foot pole."
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My nightgown had ridden up, his hands discovering more of mine with each caress. We were both lost in sensation, rational thought receding with each passing second...
Three years ago, to fulfill the wish of his grandmother, I was forced to marry Derek Wells, the second son of the family that had adopted me for ten years. He didn't love me, but I had secretly loved him all along.
Now, the three-year contractual marriage is about to end, but I feel that some kind of sentiment has developed between Derek and me that neither of us is willing to admit. I'm not sure if my feelings are right, but I know that we can't resist each other physically...
