CHAPTER 4: “THE FIRST PUBLIC APPEARANCE”

The lobby transformed into a battlefield of flashing lights and frantic voices.

“CEO LU, IS THAT YOUR FIANCÉE?”

“MISS SU ANNIE—ARE THE RUMORS TRUE?”

“WHEN IS THE WEDDING?”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN DATING?”

Every question blurred into a single overwhelming roar.

Panni instinctively stepped back, but Chen Lu’s grip tightened. Not painfully—firmly. Anchoring her. Claiming her.

He leaned slightly closer, enough that only she could hear him beneath the chaos.

“Stay calm,” he murmured. “As long as you walk beside me, no one can touch you.”

Her heart thudded. It wasn’t his words—it was the quiet certainty, the way his voice wrapped around her like armor. For the first time, she felt what it meant to stand in someone else’s shadow…and be protected by it.

But she couldn’t forget:

This protection wasn’t meant for her.

It was meant for Annie.

Chen Lu lifted his chin, turning toward the crowd with cold composure. The shift was instant—CEO mode, authoritative and untouchable.

“We will not be answering questions at this time,” he announced, voice deep and steady. “Please respect our privacy.”

Reporters surged anyway.

“Mr. Lu, is this sudden engagement connected to your grandmother’s passing?”

“Miss Su, are you moving into the Lu residence immediately?”

“Can you tell us how you met?”

Panni’s pulse quickened. Sweat prickled her palms. Her legs felt unsteady. She had rehearsed Annie’s biography, Annie’s speech patterns, Annie’s mannerisms—but no amount of practice prepared her for this level of scrutiny.

Chen Lu sensed the shift in her breathing. Without hesitation, he stepped half a pace forward, shielding her from the crush of bodies.

Then he did something utterly unexpected.

He wrapped an arm around her waist.

The world snapped out of focus.

His touch was firm, grounding, sending a shockwave of heat up her spine. Cameras exploded in a frenzy of light. Reporters shouted louder. And Panni—heart ricocheting against her ribs—could only stare up at the man holding her as if she belonged there.

He didn’t look at her. Didn’t waver.

His hold was strategic, protective…and undeniably intimate.

“Let’s go,” he said quietly.

And just like that, the security team surged forward, creating a barrier as he guided her through the crowd and toward the waiting car.

When the doors shut behind them, the sudden silence was suffocating.

Panni finally exhaled the breath she’d been holding.

“I—I didn’t expect that,” she whispered.

Chen Lu loosened his hold but did not look away from the tinted window.

“It was necessary.”

A pause.

“The media are vultures. You hesitate for one second, and they tear you apart.”

She swallowed, nodding.

“I understand.”

But her voice came out softer than intended—shaky, vulnerable.

He turned to her, studying her face with that same unreadable intensity.

“You handled it better than I thought you would.”

The compliment startled her.

“Is… that your way of saying I didn’t embarrass you?”

A flicker of amusement touched his eyes—brief but real.

“Not yet.”

She huffed, flustered. “That’s comforting.”

The car began moving through the city, neon lights streaking across the windows. They were finally alone—no cameras, no reporters, no pressure to pretend.

And yet Panni’s pulse hadn’t slowed.

“That thing you said earlier,” she murmured, “that as long as I walk beside you… no one can touch me.”

He met her gaze.

“Yes?”

She hesitated. “You meant that for Annie, right? For her reputation. Her safety.”

A dangerous quiet filled the car.

Chen Lu leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Who else would I be talking to?” he replied.

The words shouldn’t have cut her. But they did.

Because in that moment, she realized something terrifying.

The more he believed she was Annie…

the more she became tangled in a lie she couldn’t escape.

She turned toward the window, hiding the ache in her chest.

“I just wanted to be sure,” she whispered.

Before she could say more, he spoke again—voice low, almost soft.

“Annie.”

Her breath hitched. She forced herself to respond.

“Yes?”

“I don’t know what’s going on with you lately,” he said slowly, “but today… you felt different.”

Her heart stopped.

Different. Wrong.

Suspicious.

She forced a laugh. “I was nervous. Anyone would be.”

“And yet,” he continued, “you handled the reporters better than I expected. You barely blinked.”

Panni froze.

He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, gaze locked on hers.

“You surprised me.”

The car seemed too warm, too small. Her skin prickled.

“I—I didn’t think you were paying attention.”

His lip twitched—not quite a smile, but almost.

“I always pay attention.”

The intimacy of that statement sent another shiver through her.

Silence fell between them again—not cold, not awkward.

Something in it felt charged. Like a current slowly pulling them toward something neither could define yet.

Then the car turned, entering a long, ivy-lined driveway.

“The memorial hall,” Chen Lu said.

Panni nodded, nerves returning. Meeting the grandmother—even in spirit—felt heavier than facing the media.

As they walked toward the hall, the air grew still. Lanterns cast a soft golden glow on the pathways. White chrysanthemums lined the entrance.

Chen Lu slowed beside her.

“My grandmother was the only person who ever believed I needed someone in my life,” he said quietly. “She thought marriage would… soften me.”

He let out a humorless breath.

“She never understood that I don’t have space for complications.”

Panni’s lungs tightened.

“Am I… a complication?”

He looked at her then.

Really looked.

“You could be.”

Her steps faltered.

The admission wasn’t gentle.

It was a warning… and something else.

Possibility.

Before she could respond, they reached the carved wooden doors. He pushed them open, letting her enter first.

Inside, the hall smelled of incense and lilies. A large portrait of his grandmother sat at the center—her warm, graceful smile illuminating the room.

Panni’s chest tightened unexpectedly.

“She seems… kind,” she whispered.

“She was.” His voice softened. “Too kind for this world.”

Panni approached the altar, lighting three incense sticks with trembling fingers. She bowed deeply, her heart steadying.

If you can hear me… I’m sorry.

I’m not Annie. I’m not your grandson’s real bride.

But I promise—I’ll protect him as long as I’m here.

Behind her, Chen Lu watched.

When she looked up, his expression had changed—something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

“You meant that,” he said quietly.

“Meant what?”

“Your bow. Your sincerity.”

Her throat tightened.

“I… respect her,” she answered truthfully.

He stepped closer.

Too close.

“Most people pretend,” he murmured. “But you… don’t.”

Her breath caught as he reached out—hesitating only a fraction of a second—then gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek.

The touch felt electric.

Soft. Unexpected. Intimate.

Panni’s eyes widened. Her heart stumbled.

“Mr. Lu…?”

For the first time, he didn’t correct her.

He didn’t pull away.

He kept his hand near her face, voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper.

“Why do I feel like I’m seeing you for the first time?”

Her knees weakened.

This was wrong.

Dangerous.

A line she had no right to cross.

She stepped back. “We… we should go.”

The spell broke instantly.

Chen Lu straightened, mask snapping back into place. “Yes. We should.”

They turned toward the exit—both shaken, both pretending nothing just happened.

But as they reached the door, Chen Lu’s phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen—

And his expression turned to ice.

Panni felt dread sink into her stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

He looked up, eyes darkening with something sharp and cold.

“Your sister,” he said.

“Annie was spotted entering the city hospital an hour ago.”

Her blood froze.

Hospital?

“What happened? Is she alright?” Panni whispered.

Chen Lu stepped closer, lowering his voice.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?”

A chill rippled through her.

Because if Annie was at the hospital—

and someone had seen her—

Then the truth was closer to exposure than ever.