Chapter four

Chapter 4

Rachel’s POV

It all started when I was seven. But it wasn’t with humans, it was with animals.

I could feel their pain... see their distress... and somehow, I could heal them.

I never knew it worked with humans — not until my wedding night. That was when I met him — J.

The moment I looked into his eyes, I saw it, clear as day. His deepest desire... his greatest pain.

He wanted to be fertile.

I was stunned.

A man like him... powerful, feared, wealthy... yet burdened with such a secret?

My eyes roamed around J’s study. After he left last night without saying a word, I had laid on his bed, lost in thought, until sleep swallowed me.

I was woken the next morning by a soft knock on the door. It was the housekeeper.

"You’ve been summoned by Sir J," she informed me politely.

Summoned?

When I stepped into his study, I found him dressed differently from last night. Which meant... he never returned to the room after he left.

Did he sleep elsewhere? Or did he stay outside the mansion entirely?

His deep voice snapped me back to reality.

"Tell me... how did you find out about that?" He asked, his eyes sharp, piercing right through me as he settled into his black swivel chair.

I stared at him for a moment.

If I told him I saw it through his eyes... would he even believe me?

Would he think I was a monster — like my father did?

"You probably won’t believe me," I muttered, lowering my gaze.

"I will," he said without hesitation. "I’m listening. Tell me — how did you find out? Through a rival? An investigator?"

He was genuinely curious.

I took a deep breath.

"I have a gift... or maybe it’s a curse," I whispered.

His expression didn’t change — unreadable. That same cold stare that made me feel like I was talking nonsense.

Right. Who would believe such a thing? That I could see things in people’s eyes?

"I think you should be more interested in how to cure it... rather than how I found out," I mumbled.

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. "Fine. Then tell me how do I cure it? Or rather... how will you cure it?"

My heart skipped a beat.

I shouldn’t have said that.

I was trying to avoid one problem but ended up walking straight into another, a dangerous one.

"I don’t know yet," I admitted quietly, rubbing my temple in frustration.

I could feel his anger rising. He crushed the paper in his hand, and I could almost hear his bones crack.

Would it be my neck next?

"Is this a joke to you?" He slammed his fist on the table, making me flinch.

It was my first time dealing with a human case... I didn’t know how to cure him yet.

"Please... leave," he ordered coldly.

But I panicked.

"I promise I can cure you!" I blurted out. "I’ve done it a couple of times... just not with humans. But I will find a way. I swear I will."

He stared at me, calculating, dangerous.

"Let’s sign a contract," he said.

My brows furrowed. "What contract?"

"Our marriage contract," he replied flatly.

He opened a folder and pulled out a stack of papers.

When did he prepare all of this?

"I want you to read every clause carefully before you sign."

I skimmed through the pages, my heart nearly stopped.

"I’m to cure you in three months while pretending to be your wife?" My eyes widened in shock.

How was I supposed to do that? I have no idea how to go about it and three months sounds like days to me already.

He nodded. "If you can’t... then sign the divorce papers now and leave.” He threatened.

I bit my lower lip, regretting ever opening my mouth.

But then... this was my chance.

"I’ll do it," I said firmly.

"Good."

As I read further, he began reading the terms out loud, as if he could read my thoughts.

"You must keep this confidential. No one must know about my condition not even my family. If you do... you’ll face my wrath."

I looked up at him. "Not even your family? Why?"

"It’s none of your business," he snapped.

Right.

This wasn’t my business. None of it was.

But still...

"Aren’t I supposed to make the rules?” I muttered. “I mean I was the one who struck the deal remember?”

"You follow my rules," he stated darkly. "If you can’t, you’re free to leave."

I scoffed inwardly.

Leaning over the table, I asked, "And what do I get in return for all this?"

He didn’t hesitate.

"Your life."

My heart skipped. I was perplexed.

"W-What do you mean?"

"You don’t want this marriage," he said coldly.

"You’re only here because your father forced you. That’s why you didn’t want me to divorce you last night."

He leaned in. "I will divorce you in three months after you cure me. And I will give you a huge sum of money to start your life afresh... somewhere far away, where your father will never find you."

My breath caught in my throat.

That... had always been my dream.

A life far away... free... with Jacob. Where my father would never find us.

“I will do it.” I grabbed the pen, ready to sign my name. But I suddenly paused, realizing I was missing something.

Lifting my gaze, I asked slowly, “But what happens if I’m unable to cure you in three months?”

A deadly smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “I will let everyone know you’re a substitute bride,” he said coldly, pressing his fingers against his temple.

“Your father will have to return your dowry, face humiliation, and pay a huge sum of money for violating our contract with the Charltons.” He stared deeply into my eyes, making sure I was following every word. I shivered, my full attention locked on him.

With a smirk still playing on his lips, he added, “And I’m sure your father won’t let you off the hook.”

“But I—” I started, but he cut me off sharply.

“And don’t even think of threatening me with my illness. No one will believe you, especially with no proof.”

I swallowed hard. He was right. No one would believe me — not even my father. And with his connections, he could easily twist the truth and have it favor him.

With trembling hands, I picked up the pen again and looked at J.

“I understand,” I whispered before signing the contract.

I was determined. I will cure him in three months. No matter what.

“And don’t forget the most important rule,” he added.

“Don’t even think of falling in love with me.”

My gaze instinctively dropped — right at his pants, where his manhood pressed slightly against the fabric of his trousers.

I smirked faintly. “Don’t worry, I have my preference.”

I heard him scoff. “You—!” But I ignored him and rose to my feet, making my way toward the exit.

My mind drifted back to my love, Jacob.

Jacob… don’t worry. I’ve found a way. A way for us to live happily ever after.