Wife chasing Billionaire's Adoration.

Roland and Andreas sat quietly at their table. One was working on a laptop, while the other was just there, seemingly trying to memorize every detail about the woman across him.

Sandra was discussing business, but to Roland, her words were like music to his ears. She would occasionally giggle, revealing her perfect white teeth.

After a while, the eyesore of a man suddenly said, "Sandra, are you free tonight? We should have dinner to celebrate this project."

Sandra froze and replied in an apologetic tone, "I apologize, Mr. Arrevalo. I have a prior engagement tonight."

On the right, Andreas breathed a sigh of relief. The moment the sunny boy asked that question, he felt the anger radiating from his boss's body, and he felt really, really scared. Luckily, the madam wasn't an easy woman. He really liked this future lady of the family.

Sandra knew Rojo Arrevalo was a good businessman but also a notorious playboy. He'd been hitting on her constantly for the past few months, and she knew better than to fall for it. She couldn't mix business with personal affairs; it was just too troublesome. The moment Rojo left, Sandra stood up and headed towards the restroom.

Without hesitation, Roland followed and waited at the entrance to the ladies' restroom. Ladies noticed his handsome, eye-catching face, but he didn't seem to care, his gaze fixed on his phone, one hand in his pocket.

A few minutes later, Sandra walked out and spotted him. She was about to walk past him when he suddenly blocked her way.

Luckily, she stopped abruptly; otherwise, she might have bumped into this boss's chest and offended him.

Although she wasn't at fault, Sandra could only swallow her temper and apologize with a cold expression, "I'm sorry, Mr."

"Don't you remember me?" she heard an enigmatic voice ask.

Sandra looked up, her face full of surprise. "Yes, Mr. Fleming, everyone in the business world knows you; of course, I know you," she said with humility.

Just as Roland had expected, she didn't remember him at all. He didn't want to play guessing games anymore and simply said, "1306."

Sandra's eyes widened in shock, her face paled, and her knees went weak, causing her to stumble. Fortunately, Roland quickly held onto her shoulders to steady her.

Her heart felt like it was about to explode, beating fast and hard. Her lips trembled, wanting to say something, but she couldn't find the words. She was so scared—was her career over? Would this man ruin her because of that night? Her mind was muddled with so many thoughts at once, her eyes moistening and turning red. She wanted to bend her knees and beg for this Buddha's forgiveness to let her off.

"Can we talk for a moment?" the man asked. Sandra could only nod her head and follow him dazedly.

Andreas watched the two walk out from the restroom corridor and saw the sickly pale, scared face of his future lady boss. He couldn't help but curse at his boss in his heart.

'What did he do to make a woman look like that?' he thought. He really was hopeless.

Sandra sat opposite Roland, trying hard not to cry, her gaze fixed on her slightly trembling hands. She was thinking hard about how to navigate this situation. For now, she decided to play the part of the pitiful damsel.

"Mr. Fleming," she began with a trembling voice, "that night, I booked that room myself. I didn't know it was your room."

"I know," he said, and she finally looked up at him with a pitiful, questioning gaze.

"I need you to take responsibility for taking advantage of me," the man said with a serious face.

Finally, Sandra's facade broke, and she scoffed. "You—" She was stumped for words, realizing she couldn't act like a delicate flower in front of this shameless man. He had barged into the hotel room she'd booked, taken her virginity, and now had the audacity to say she needed to take responsibility for him?

"Mr. Fleming, I think you're a bit delusional. You're the one who came into the wrong room and took advantage of me," she retorted through gritted teeth.

"You took my virginity from me, that was a big deal, you know?" Roland answered, smiling shamelessly.

Sandra's face turned red from embarrassment and anger. Virginity, my foot. It was impossible that a man like him had kept his virginity intact. But her? She really had been a virgin before that night.

After a couple of steps, the man stopped and looked back at her, then leaned close to her ear and whispered with a smile, "Either that, or you'll have to pay ten million US dollars to compensate for my virginity."

Sandra's eyes widened, and she started shaking uncontrollably. She knew it. Rich people were devils. He was clearly cornering her. The teardrops she'd been holding back for so long started to fall uncontrollably. She was really, really angry and frustrated. She had been taken advantage of, yet she could do nothing but be further tortured by him because she was just a nobody.

She laughed self-deprecatingly. She had no choice then. She could only endure being tortured by him for a year because even if she sold her business and properties, including her soul, she'd never come up with ten million USD.

In the car, Roland continued sitting there, looking at the woman. Andreas felt sorry for the Madam; he more or less understood why she was crying so pitifully. His boss had most likely cornered her with no choice. He glanced at his boss in the rearview mirror and saw that he was still watching Sandra.

After a while, Sandra got up and left in a taxi. Roland then said, "Let's go. Prepare a marriage contract tonight."

"Yes, Mr. Fleming," Andreas could only swallow his questions and agree with his boss.