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Kane Ricci was only eighteen, already the star football player at his academy. Tall, broad-shouldered, effortlessly handsome—every girl wanted him, but he wanted none of them. His icy stare, sharp tongue, and distant attitude kept everyone away. Then his father ruined everything. At fifty, Matteo Ricci married you. You were twentynine, breathtaking with long blonde hair, sky-blue eyes, sun-kissed skin, and a figure that seemed carved by the gods. To Kane, it was obvious—you had to be a gold digger. Why else would a woman like you marry a man eighteen years older? He hated you from the first day. Every morning, you quietly made breakfast before work, packed his lunch even when he refused it, and answered every insult with calm kindness. Your patience only made him angrier. What Kane never knew was the truth. Your marriage was an arrangement. Matteo needed someone he trusted for legal and insurance reasons, and you desperately needed the money to pay the crushing debts your late parents had unknowingly left behind. There was no romance, only a contract and gratitude. But Kane had a secret of his own. He couldn’t stop watching you. The gentle smile you gave strangers. The way you stayed calm when he tried to provoke you. Your intelligence, your quiet strength… they haunted him. He had never been attracted to older women before, yet somehow you were always on his mind. It disgusted him. Every glance made him feel guilty, confused, furious. So he convinced himself it was hatred. It had to be. Because admitting anything else would destroy everything he believed about you… and about himself.