°ADRIAN° Everything is going unusually well, almost too well, which gives me an odd sense of unease. Life can’t possibly be this good. That little gold digger has been behaving herself—doing her job without complaint and even keeping her sharp tongue in check. Perhaps it’s because I’ve started to respect her, and I treat her accordingly. After digging into her past, I discovered something unexpected: she wasn’t the bride Evelyn had chosen for me. She’s the bride’s younger sister. That explains why she’s so…different from what I expected. And I think Evelyn is still unaware of that fact. She wasn’t raised in the usual privileged bubble. Instead, she grew up with her grandmother, a herbal medicine healer. She wasn’t lying about that, and I’ve verified it myself. I’m not naive enough to trust anyone who claims they can heal my legs, but I can’t ignore the progress. It’s been three weeks, and I can now move my fingers with ease. Even my legs respond with effort—small movements, but
°SERENA° My head is pounding as if someone is hammering nails into my skull, each strike sharper than the last. My skin burns, a suffocating heat coursing through me, like I'm being roasted alive. Am I dead? Is this hell? No... I’m not dead. I’ve been drugged. The realization crashes into me like a tidal wave, sending my heart into overdrive. My eyes snap open, though the world around me spins in nauseating swirls. My vision is blurry, my surroundings unfamiliar. Where am I? The air is heavy, reeking of alcohol and weed. I’m in a wooden house. My stomach churns as fear grips me, cold and suffocating despite the heat radiating off my body. I try to sit up, but my limbs feel weighted down, unresponsive. My hands—why can’t I move my hands? Panic claws at my throat as I realize they’re bound. Tight ropes bite into my wrists, chafing against my skin. I need to find a way to escape. There’s no sound coming from outside. I’m not sure if they’re still here or not. My breathing qu
°ADRIAN° The damn forest routes—they seem never-ending, twisting and turning through the dense, shadowy trees. Each mile feels like an eternity. It’s been over an hour since Timothy managed to track her, tracing the mobiles of those two bastards who, to my utter disbelief, turned out to be her classmates. Fucking classmates? The word rattles in my head, fueling my fury. How could people she knew, people she probably trusted, do something like this? The thought alone sets my blood boiling. Timothy keeps driving, the wheels crunching over uneven dirt roads, as we head toward some remote wooden house—one that apparently belongs to Mark Joan, where his mobile was located along with the other one. The more I think about it, the worse the storm in my chest becomes. I swear, when I get my hands on them, they’ll wish they’d never been born in this planet. But my rage isn’t enough to smother the gnawing fear creeping into my heart. What are they doing to her? Is she safe? Is she hurt
°SERENA° I waited and waited, even fate laughing at me, my supposed groom still didn't arrive. "Now, a final call to Mr. Adrian Royce to come forth," the priest announced. Silence. No one stepped forward. I stood there, head bowed, a bouquet trembling in my hands. Scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces, my eyes landed on my father. His cold, icy gaze met mine, devoid of even the slightest concern for his daughter—who had just been stood up at the altar. The murmurs of the crowd grew louder until someone approached the priest, whispering something in his ear. The priest nodded, then held out a ring to me. "With the power vested in me," he declared, his voice carrying a tinge of pity, "I now pronounce Adrian Royce and Serena Cooper husband and wife." And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in a veil of humiliation. Guests began to disperse, their eyes casting fleeting glances of pity—or judgment. I spotted my father preparing to leave and ru
°SERENA° “Who let you in?” The words hit me like a physical blow, freezing me in place. My heart raced, and each syllable of the voice reverberated through the room, laced with authority and disdain. I turned slowly, my breath caught in my throat. Standing at the base of the grand staircase was a man, his towering figure shrouded in shadows. His dark suit only amplified his presence, and though his face remained obscured, his voice alone sent a chill down my spine. "I—I’m Serena Cooper," I stammered, my voice trembling. "Adrian’s..." My words faltered. Wife? Was I really his wife? “Ah, the new bride,” he sneered, his voice thick with mockery. “Welcome to your new home.” Though his words were polite, the ice behind them made my skin crawl. I gripped the folds of my gown tightly, trying to steady my trembling hands. “Where is Adrian?” I asked, barely above a whisper. The man’s lips curled into a cruel smirk. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, turning on his heel. “
°ADRIAN° "What's in it for me, Mr. Royce?" she asked, her voice laced with audacity. I should have expected this. What else could a gold digger care about if not money? Looking at her only fueled my disgust. Red lipstick smeared into a garish alarm, eyeliner smudged like a child’s careless doodle—she looked utterly ridiculous, like a raccoon. "You're Mrs. Royce. Isn't that enough to satisfy you?" "No," she replied, her tone unwavering. Unbelievable. This woman’s greed knew no bounds. "Name your price," I said, suppressing a sigh. If this arrangement could heal my legs, I’d consider it a necessary evil, no matter the cost. "I want to be admitted to medical school." What? I stared at her. "Aren't you too old to be attending school?" "I'm 18!" Eighteen. The absurdity of it hit me like a slap. Evelyn. I clenched my fists, wanting to wring her neck desperately. "Fine. Get your documents ready," I said flatly. Her face lit up as if I’d handed her the keys to
°SERENA° I’ve told the officer a hundred times already, but he refuses to listen. And that salesgirl’s smug smile? It’s driving me insane.If only the officer would hear me out, I’d wipe that grin off her face. But now, I’m a little scared. When he asked for the cardholder’s number, I gave Adrian’s. What if he refused to come? Worse, what if he tells them to lock me up? No, Adrian still needs me—for his treatment. A sleek Rolls Royce pulled up right in front of the store right then, its polished surface gleaming under the shop’s lights. My breath hitched—I expected Adrian to step out. Instead, it was Tim. Seeing him, the officer broke into a cold sweat. He quickly approached Tim, but Tim ignored him and walked straight toward me. “Are you okay, ma’am?” he asked, his tone gentle. I blinked in confusion, but nodded anyway. “Sir,” the officer stammered. “How come you are here? When she—Madam—gave me the name, I thought it was some random guy. I didn’t expect it to be
°SERENA° The phone screen lit up suddenly, and my hands trembled as I reached for it. "Don’t make a scene next time you’re going out." — Adrian. This heartless guy! Relief washed over me that it was him, but seriously, could he not text more humanely? Wait—how does he even know what happened? Of course, I should have guessed. I did see the bluetooth on Tim's ear. So Adrian really listened to what happened. Still, I’m not going to reply to you, Adrian Royce. Clutching my phone, I fell back onto my bed. For a fleeting moment, I thought it was someone else, but thank God it wasn him. The next morning, I woke up early, a little giddy—it was my first day of college. Excitement bubbled in my chest as I stepped out. When I arrived, the campus was magnificent—tall buildings surrounded by bustling students in white coats. Soon, I’d be one of them! Right then, my stomach growled, loud and demanding. I hadn’t eaten since leaving his villa—an hour-and-a-half-long drive. I
°ADRIAN° The damn forest routes—they seem never-ending, twisting and turning through the dense, shadowy trees. Each mile feels like an eternity. It’s been over an hour since Timothy managed to track her, tracing the mobiles of those two bastards who, to my utter disbelief, turned out to be her classmates. Fucking classmates? The word rattles in my head, fueling my fury. How could people she knew, people she probably trusted, do something like this? The thought alone sets my blood boiling. Timothy keeps driving, the wheels crunching over uneven dirt roads, as we head toward some remote wooden house—one that apparently belongs to Mark Joan, where his mobile was located along with the other one. The more I think about it, the worse the storm in my chest becomes. I swear, when I get my hands on them, they’ll wish they’d never been born in this planet. But my rage isn’t enough to smother the gnawing fear creeping into my heart. What are they doing to her? Is she safe? Is she hurt
°SERENA° My head is pounding as if someone is hammering nails into my skull, each strike sharper than the last. My skin burns, a suffocating heat coursing through me, like I'm being roasted alive. Am I dead? Is this hell? No... I’m not dead. I’ve been drugged. The realization crashes into me like a tidal wave, sending my heart into overdrive. My eyes snap open, though the world around me spins in nauseating swirls. My vision is blurry, my surroundings unfamiliar. Where am I? The air is heavy, reeking of alcohol and weed. I’m in a wooden house. My stomach churns as fear grips me, cold and suffocating despite the heat radiating off my body. I try to sit up, but my limbs feel weighted down, unresponsive. My hands—why can’t I move my hands? Panic claws at my throat as I realize they’re bound. Tight ropes bite into my wrists, chafing against my skin. I need to find a way to escape. There’s no sound coming from outside. I’m not sure if they’re still here or not. My breathing qu
°ADRIAN° Everything is going unusually well, almost too well, which gives me an odd sense of unease. Life can’t possibly be this good. That little gold digger has been behaving herself—doing her job without complaint and even keeping her sharp tongue in check. Perhaps it’s because I’ve started to respect her, and I treat her accordingly. After digging into her past, I discovered something unexpected: she wasn’t the bride Evelyn had chosen for me. She’s the bride’s younger sister. That explains why she’s so…different from what I expected. And I think Evelyn is still unaware of that fact. She wasn’t raised in the usual privileged bubble. Instead, she grew up with her grandmother, a herbal medicine healer. She wasn’t lying about that, and I’ve verified it myself. I’m not naive enough to trust anyone who claims they can heal my legs, but I can’t ignore the progress. It’s been three weeks, and I can now move my fingers with ease. Even my legs respond with effort—small movements, but
°SERENA° It’s been three weeks, and as promised, Adrian hasn’t questioned my methods. Well, apart from his occasional jabs—like calling me “half-dead” or “little gold digger”—everything else felt... normal. Maybe even good. If life could just stay this way—steady and uncomplicated—things might actually turn out okay. Three more years to finish my degree, and I’ll finally become the doctor I’ve always dreamed of being, ready to help those in need. But even as I try to focus on the future, there’s a question gnawing at the back of my mind. One I’ve been avoiding because I’m terrified of the answer. Adrian has started moving his fingers, and now and then, even his legs twitch with effort. It’s incredible to witness. He’s been working so hard, pouring his strength into the exercises, along with continuous simulations, and taking the herbal medicine. If things continue like this, it won’t be long until he’s walking again. And while that thought fills me with joy—it really does—there’s
°SERENA° I came home late tonight, though I’m happy my application was approved and Adrian didn’t do anything to ruin it. All I need to do now is prepare the herbs, give him his needling, and then collapse into bed. Sleep is calling me like a lullaby, and tomorrow is the weekend—a rare chance to breathe. But why do I feel so drained? It was past 9 by the time I finished making the herbal medicine. The rich aroma of the herbs wafted through the air, but even that couldn’t energize me. Now, all that’s left is to deliver it and do the needling. Then, sleep. I dragged myself upstairs, each step feeling like a punishment. For the first time, I found myself getting irritated at how big his house is. Why does he need all this space when he lives alone? Heartless guy. Couldn’t he just stay in a smaller place? I knocked on his door, waiting for that familiar, icy voice to respond. And there it was. “Come in.” Twisting the knob, I pushed the door open with what little strength
°SERENA° “But don’t treat everyone as if they’re beneath you. We’re humans, Adrian. We have emotions too.” I don’t even know why I am saying this; he won’t understand anyway. All he ever does is what he wants. I stumbled to my bed, hugging myself, as his words cut through me again and again. It hurts. It really hurts to know he thought I was like that—someone so vile, so opportunistic. For a split second yesterday, I thought maybe, just maybe, he had a heart too. But today, he proved me utterly wrong. And with his cold dismissal, he buried the fragile hope that had dared to sprout, that had threatened to appear. I should be used to this by now—the accusations, the judgment, the way his eyes harden every time he looks at me. But no amount of time or repetition makes it easier. If anything, it carves deeper, each word and action leaving a scar I can’t quite hide. I thought, even though he doesn’t care about me, at least he respects and understands me. That he sees I am not as des
°ADRIAN° “Yes, sir. The card was last swiped at a hospital.” The moment the words left his mouth, a million questions struck my mind. That's not what I expected. A hospital? Why would she be at a hospital? Questions churned in my head, relentless and unforgiving. Had she paid someone’s bill? Was it out of necessity? Charity? A calculated move to appear noble? Or was this a ploy, another angle I couldn’t yet see? Was she truly that selfless? The word didn’t sit well. It clashed with the Serena I had constructed in my mind—the little gold digger who married me for money and power. Opportunistic. Manipulative. A woman who knew exactly what she was doing at all times. And yet, here she was, standing in front of me, arms crossed. Her posture was defensive, but not combative. I caught the faint trace of tears clinging to her cheeks, her nose tinged pink from crying. She looked... Cute. Damn it, Adrian. Stop. It doesn’t matter. “Fine. Go,” I said, waving her off dismissively, t
°ADRIAN °Today, my legs felt strange—sore and tingling where the needles had pierced. Was that normal? I would ask her. I was already out when it struck me. She’d probably be at college by now.Whatever. I’d grab some food instead.I called for my attendant, who helped me down the stairs. Each step was a brutal reminder of how much I hated this—being dependent, being weak. I hope these sessions work soon. This wasn’t a life I intended to endure much longer. I have many unfinished businesses out there.By the afternoon, I was knee-deep in estate work with Timothy when the door swung open without warning.By an Uninvited. Unwanted. And the person I despised most in this fucking world—my half-brother, Victor Royce.“Stop,” I said sharply, my tone cold and biting.“Relax, Adrian,” Victor said, smirking, already testing my patience.“Leave,” I ordered, my voice low and measured, barely containing the disdain beneath it.Victor chuckled, throwing himself onto the couch as if he owned the
°SERENA° I looked at him, fear flashing in my eyes. Adrian sat in his wheelchair, positioned between the two massive couches like a king on a throne. Tim stood beside him, his head low, shoulders tense. Did he do something? I didn’t have long to wonder. Adrian repeated his question, this time his voice dangerously low, sharp enough to cut through the air. “Why do you need that?” God! Help me. “W-what?” I managed to stammer. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tossed an iPad onto the table with a sharp thud. The sound made me flinch. What if it broke? Does he have any value for things? He doesn't even value humans, Serena. An icy glare from him brought me back to reality. I tiptoed closer to the table, cautiously picking up the device. The tension in the room was suffocating. What had gotten under his skin this time? Disrespecting was his second nature, but what had I done to provoke it? I glanced at the lit screen, and my eyes widened. My breath caught in my thr