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Chapter 3
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2021-09-14 09:46:55A knock sounded from outside the door. Butler Freddy’s voice followed, calm but nervous.
“Come in,” Holden replied, the corner of his thin lips lifting slightly.
Freddy pushed the door open. “Master, Madam… Old Madam is here.”
Holden stood beside the bed, tall and imposing. At 1.87 meters, even in a simple white shirt and black trousers, he looked like he was wearing custom haute couture. His presence alone carried a cold nobility.
While fastening the silver button on his sleeve, he lowered his eyes and said casually to Elena, “There are two wolves in the backyard of Green Garden. Don’t try anything clever. If you do… you’ll be the one feeding them.”
Elena’s breath tightened.
This marriage was arranged by the elders — between the four great families of Darenvil: Lu, Gu, Huo, and Su.
The investigators the Xia family sent to Green Garden found nothing except two elderly people and a supposedly sick, dying young master.
Yuna’s dream had always been to marry her daughters into the four great families. So when she heard the groom was a “ghost husband,” she immediately offered up Elena in place of her own daughter.
That was why Elena believed the man in front of her was a nobody — until now.
His presence… was too sharp, too elegant, too authoritative. He didn't look like a “sick ghost” at all.
He looked like a ruler giving orders.
And he raised wolves.
Elena opened her mouth to speak — but suddenly, Holden rested both fists on the table, his handsome eyes narrowing as pain washed across his features.
Freddy’s face drained. “Master! I’ll call the doctor immediately!”
Elena’s gaze dropped. Holden’s fingers trembled uncontrollably — symptoms of a disorder. A severe one.
He’s sick?
No — worse than that.
Holden’s blood-red eyes lifted abruptly and met hers. “Get her out,” he growled, his voice hoarse with restraint.
“Madam, please leave quickly!” Freddy urged.
But Elena didn’t move.
She needed this identity — the bride of Green Garden.
She steadied her voice. “You’re sick. What is it? I know medicine. I can help.”
Holden’s lips curved coldly. “Go.”
Instead, Elena stepped closer. “I smell lily, poria, gastrodia elata… rare herbs for insomnia. If I’m right, your condition is chronic. Severe insomnia affects the mind — if untreated, it can consume a person.”
“Madam, you—” Freddy was stunned.
Elena continued, her calm voice cutting through the tension. “When insomnia reaches its limit, the mind splits. One self lives in the light… the other in darkness.”
Holden’s eyes turned crimson.
In a flash, his hand wrapped tightly around her neck.
Freddy panicked. “Master! Please— let go of Madam!”
Elena’s face reddened as her breath thinned, but she remained steady. With a swift twist of her fingers, she slipped a silver needle into a point on Holden’s neck.
Holden’s hand loosened instantly.
He collapsed onto the sofa, his breathing heavy.
Elena gasped for air, her chest rising and falling. She didn’t want to die on her first day of marriage. And this man — this unpredictable, powerful man — was far more dangerous than she originally believed.
But she had nowhere else to go.
Regaining her composure, she walked behind him and pressed her fingers gently to his temples.
“This is your treatment?” Holden asked, eyes closed, voice low.
“Be grateful,” Elena replied in a small voice. “You’re the first man I’ve ever massaged.”
He let out a soft, cold laugh. “It seems you’re not the first woman who wanted an excuse to touch me.”
“…”
Elena nearly choked.
“I won’t interfere with your private matters,” she said calmly. “In return, I’ll help you act in front of Grandma — and I can help with your insomnia. That’s my condition.”
Holden said nothing.
Elena inserted a thin silver needle into an acupuncture point behind his ear. Within moments, his body relaxed. His breathing deepened.
And then — unbelievably — he fell asleep.
Freddy froze, staring as if witnessing a miracle.
Master… asleep?
The top insomnia specialists in the world had failed, yet the young lady succeeded with a single touch?
Freddy whispered in awe, “Young lady…”
“Shh.” Elena placed a finger on her lips. “Go. I’ll watch over him.”
For reasons he couldn’t explain, Freddy felt reassured — and obediently left.
Silence filled the room.
Elena adjusted his posture, covered him with a blanket, then lay down on the bed, exhaustion pulling her into sleep.
After some time, Holden’s long lashes trembled.
He slowly opened his eyes.
He had slept.
And it was because of her.
Rising silently, he walked to the bedside. With a slender hand, he reached toward her, gently lifting the veil covering her face—
Latest chapter
The Rich Man's Proxy Marriage Chapter 150
Elena woke up before dawn.The pain was no longer sharp. Just present. A dull reminder that her body had survived something her mind was still unpacking.The room was quiet.Too quiet.She turned her head and saw Holden sitting in the armchair by the window, jacket still on, tie loosened but not removed. He hadn’t slept there again.He hadn’t slept much at all since the attack.“You should rest,” she said softly.He looked up immediately, alert, as if he had been waiting for permission to breathe.“I’m fine.”She almost smiled at the lie.“You say that every time,” she murmured.“I need to.”That was the truth.Holden stood and came closer, careful, always careful now. He adjusted the blanket even though it didn’t need adjusting. Straightened the glass of water. Checked the IV like he didn’t trust the nurses.Obsessive wasn’t the right word.Terrified was.Elena studied him—really studied him—and saw the fractures he didn’t realize were visible. The tightness in his jaw. The way his e
The Rich Man's Proxy Marriage Chapter 149
Distance, Elena discovered, was not created by miles.It was created by rules.Within forty-eight hours of their argument, the rules appeared.They arrived quietly—like dust settling on furniture no one remembered moving.Her office access card no longer opened the executive elevator. Her calendar showed meetings she hadn’t approved and absences she hadn’t requested. People still greeted her with respect, but something fundamental had shifted.She was no longer inside.She was adjacent.Elena stood in the hallway outside the boardroom, staring at the frosted glass.Holden was inside.She could see his silhouette through the blur—still, authoritative, absolute.The door did not open for her.She didn’t knock.She turned away.That was the moment she understood: Holden hadn’t pushed her out in anger.He had done it calmly.Deliberately.As if he were amputating something he loved to save the rest of his body.At home, the atmosphere was worse.Holden was everywhere and nowhere at once.
The Rich Man's Proxy Marriage Chapter 148
Distance, Elena discovered, was not created by miles.It was created by rules.Within forty-eight hours of their argument, the rules appeared.They arrived quietly—like dust settling on furniture no one remembered moving.Her office access card no longer opened the executive elevator. Her calendar showed meetings she hadn’t approved and absences she hadn’t requested. People still greeted her with respect, but something fundamental had shifted.She was no longer inside.She was adjacent.Elena stood in the hallway outside the boardroom, staring at the frosted glass.Holden was inside.She could see his silhouette through the blur—still, authoritative, absolute.The door did not open for her.She didn’t knock.She turned away.That was the moment she understood: Holden hadn’t pushed her out in anger.He had done it calmly.Deliberately.As if he were amputating something he loved to save the rest of his body.At home, the atmosphere was worse.Holden was everywhere and nowhere at once.
The Rich Man's Proxy Marriage Chapter 147
Elena learned, slowly, that recovery was not the same as freedom.Her body had healed enough to move without pain, to breathe without effort, to sleep without medication. But something else had tightened around her life—something invisible, relentless.Holden.He controlled nothing openly.That was the most frightening part.He didn’t forbid her from leaving the house. He didn’t raise his voice when she spoke to board members. He didn’t place guards directly at her side.Instead, the world rearranged itself around her.Cars arrived before she called for them. Meetings were “rescheduled” moments before she confirmed attendance. People hesitated before answering her questions—then glanced past her shoulder, as if seeking permission from the air.From him.The realization settled like a bruise beneath her skin.This wasn’t protection.This was containment.One evening, she tested it.She left without telling him.No security notice. No assistant. No destination shared.Just her coat, her
The Rich Man's Proxy Marriage Chapter 146
Elena woke before dawn.Not because of pain—her body had finally begun to obey her again—but because of the quiet. The kind of silence that pressed too close, too aware.Holden was awake.She could feel it without opening her eyes.His presence had become that familiar: a weight in the room, steady and unyielding. When she finally turned her head, she found him sitting in the chair beside her bed, sleeves rolled up, phone dark in his hand, gaze fixed on her face as if she might disappear if he blinked.“How long have you been watching?” she asked softly.“All night.”She closed her eyes again.“That’s not normal.”“It’s necessary.”The same word.Always the same word.She pushed herself upright slowly. He moved instantly, hand hovering near her shoulder, ready to catch her if she swayed. She didn’t.“I can stand on my own,” she said.“I know.”“Then let me.”He hesitated—just half a second—but withdrew his hand.That hesitation told her everything.Breakfast was silent. Holden barely
The Rich Man's Proxy Marriage Chapter 145
Elena had always believed healing would feel like returning to herself.She was wrong.Recovery felt more like inhabiting a version of her body that no longer belonged entirely to her—every movement monitored, every decision questioned, every silence filled by someone else’s vigilance.By Holden’s.He accompanied her everywhere now.Not obviously. Not openly.But always there.When she took calls, he stood close enough to hear her tone. When she read documents, he watched her reactions more than the words. When she slept, he timed her breathing like a countdown he was afraid would end.“Do you ever stop?” she asked one evening as he followed her into the study.“No.”It wasn’t defiance.It was confession.She closed the door behind them.“You don’t trust me to be alone.”“I don’t trust the world to leave you alone.”“That’s not the same thing.”“It is when the world has already tried to kill you.”She leaned against the desk, arms crossed.“And what happens when I want something yo
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