Chapter 1

Everyone in the Ford family remembers that day. My stepmother, Vivian, had brought her daughter to “visit” me―the girl who was forced to marry into the family as a placeholder for a comatose man.

They spent twenty minutes mocking me in the hospital room. Vivian sneered, saying, “You’re only fit to be married to a vegetable who can’t even move.”

That was when the man who had been unconscious for three months opened his eyes. The room went dead silent for three seconds.

Then, he threw back the covers and stood barefoot on the floor. He walked straight to me and pulled me into a crushing embrace.

Vivian’s mouth dropped open. My stepsister’s face turned as white as a sheet.

He looked down at them, his voice raspy from disuse but sharp as a blade. “Who said my wife isn't good enough for me?”

1 The day I married Hudson Ford, not a single person in the Ford estate was smiling.

The Fords were true old money in Blackwood―private, powerful, and untouchable. Their reach spanned from real estate to healthcare across half a dozen industries.

Hudson, the head of the family, had been in a car accident three months ago. He was now a vegetable in the ICU.

The Ford patriarch had consulted a spiritualist who claimed they needed a “luck-bringer.” They needed a girl with a compatible birth chart to marry in.

If he woke up within three months, the Ford family’s luck would continue. The spiritualist’s chart pointed directly to my stepsister, Scarlett.

But my stepmother, Vivian, couldn't bear to send her precious daughter. So, she pushed me forward instead.

“Let Serena go in Scarlett’s place,” she told my father. “She isn't really a Vance anyway. Her mother has been dead for years. Keeping her at home is just a waste of food.”

My father looked at me and said nothing. In the twelve years since Vivian moved in, his most practiced skill was silence.

So, I was shoved into a rented wedding dress and pushed into a black car. I was taken to the Ford estate without a ceremony or guests.

The old Mr. Ford sat in a wheelchair and had someone hand me a thick envelope. Inside were two documents.

One was a marriage certificate―my name and Hudson’s were already printed there. The photo showed his profile as he lay in bed, eyes closed.

The second was an agreement. If Hudson didn't wake up in three months, the marriage would be annulled. My compensation would be three million dollars.

Three million to buy a girl’s reputation and three months of her life. I signed it without hesitation.

Then, I was taken to Hudson’s room. It was on the top floor of the estate, larger than the entire apartment I used to share with my mother.

The man on the bed was covered by a white duvet, an oxygen mask over his face. He looked refined, with features that suggested a scholar rather than a ruthless businessman.

The nurse taught me how to clean him, massage his limbs to prevent atrophy, and manage his feeding tube. I memorized everything.

Once the nurse left, the room was empty except for the two of us. I pulled a chair to the bedside and studied his sleeping face.

“Hudson Ford,” I whispered. There was no reaction. The monitor’s green line pulsed steadily.

“My name is Serena Shaw. I’m your wife now. You don’t know anything, and I don’t expect you to. Anyway―”

I glanced at the door. The hallway was quiet. I leaned in, lowering my voice.

“Anyway, I’m leaving the second the three months are up. If you can wake up, do it. If not… well, thank you. Three million is enough for me to finally escape my family.”

The green line on the monitor flickered. I thought I imagined it. I stared at the screen for several seconds, but the pulse remained steady.

I leaned back, the smell of antiseptic filling my lungs. Outside, the sky turned to ink.