Chapter 1

The moment my blind date sat down, she demanded I buy a luxury penthouse in the city center — in cash — and put her name on the deed.

She picked her teeth and looked me up and down like I was something she'd scraped off her shoe.

I glanced past her at the part-time matchmaker standing behind her — eyes red, nearly in tears, desperate to close a deal.

I pulled out my bank card, handed it to the matchmaker, and said with a smile, "I'll marry you instead."

"City center. Top-floor penthouse. Full cash payment. My name on the deed."

The woman across from me — Chris — dug a fingernail between her teeth, picking at the remnants of the chicken wings she'd just demolished, and gave me a lazy sideways glance.

The cheap perfume clinging to her skin mixed with the greasy smell of sauce, and I felt my temples start to throb.

"Oh, and you need to buy me a house first. I'm not picky about the car — a Porsche 718 will do. Pink."

I leaned back in the booth. The faded shirt I was wearing was the same one I'd had on when I crawled out from a pile of bodies. It was older than Chris herself.

"You should count yourself lucky I'd even consider a military guy like you. You understand that, right?"

She spat a clean-picked bone onto the table. A few drops of grease splattered across the surface.

I didn't say anything. I just reached for the complimentary lemon water and took a sip.

Sour. Fitting.

My eyes drifted past her heavily made-up face and landed on the girl standing behind her.

She was wearing an ill-fitting uniform from the matchmaking agency, with a name tag pined to her chest that read: Trainee Matchmaker — Samantha.

She was young — probably still in college — no makeup, eyes red-rimmed.

She was staring at me, lips moving silently, mouthing something.

Run. Get out of here.

I narrowed my eyes slightly. Interesting.

Chris tapped the table impatiently when I didn't respond. "With your situation, the second you walk out that door you won't even be qualified to carry my bags. I'm doing you a favor."

"Oh?" I finally spoke. My voice came out a little rough.

"Three minutes to decide. Either transfer the deposit right now, or get lost. Don't waste my time."

She crossed her legs, pulled out her phone, and started scrolling TikTok on full volume — loud and grating.

That's when I felt something gently tap my knee from under the table.

I looked down and saw a crumpled napkin being pushed across from the other side.

Samantha had her head down, pretending to tidy the table, but her hands were trembling slightly.

I hoked the little paper ball with my foot, slid it to my side without drawing attention, and picked it up.

I smoothed it open. The handwriting was small and neat but huried.

Run. She's a scammer. They're a whole gang. Don't give them any money — they'll take everything you have.

The last stroke had pressed so hard it nearly tore through the napkin.

I looked up just as Samantha lifted her eyes to meet mine.

They were full of terror and pleading.

Chris was still going on behind her, full of herself. "Made up your mind yet? I'm telling you — Heavenly Match is the most elite agency in the city. You'd have to be out of your mind not to jump at this chance."

"Manager Stockton told me your profile says you have two hundred thousand saved up. That's just enough for the down payment."

I smiled.

So they'd already figured out exactly what I had.

I closed my fist around the note and stood up.

Chris thought I was leaving. Her expression flipped instantly and she shrieked, "Where do you think you're going? I'm not done talking!"

The agency manager — a plump, overly friendly woman — immediately appeared with two security guards, cutting off my path.

"Mr. Johnson, Chris is one of our top-tier members. You're a lucky man that she'd consider you. Is there a problem?"

Manager Stockton's smile didn't reach her eyes. The threat in them was obvious.

Samantha went pale. She shrank behind Stockton, shaking.

I looked at her, then turned to Stockton.

"No problem at all," I said calmly, sitting back down. "But I have one condition."

Chris and Stockton exchanged a look. Both of them smiled — gredy.

"Name it."

"I don't want installments," I said, measured and unhurried. "I want to pay for the house in full, the car in full, and the wedding fund all at once."

The room went dead quiet.

Chris's eyes went wide. She was barely breathing.

Stockton's cheks quivered as she tried to contain her smile.

Only Samantha stared at me in disbelief, shaking her head over and over.

I gave her a small reassuring look, then turned back to Stockton.

"But I'll need your agency to provide a written guarantee — confirming that Chris has a clean background and that the marriage will be stable and harmonious. If anything goes wrong, your agency bears full responsibility."

"Absolutely, of course!" Stockton agreed without a second's hesitation.

In her eyes, I was already fish on the hook.

"There's just one more small thing." I paused, and my gaze settled on Samantha.

"For our next meeting, I'd like Samantha to be our dedicated matchmaker."