Zaer Yusupov had always been the one I hated. A womanizer, who didn’t miss a single skirt; a rich kid who thought everything would work out for him.
Maybe that’s why he kidnapped me to teach me a lesson—but we were caught, and he had to marry me. We agreed to a fake marriage lasting five years, but we didn’t expect that mutual passion would seize us so much that when the contract ends, neither of us will want to part.