Ace Davenport, a successful 31-year-old businessman with a chillingly cold demeanor, was forced into an arranged marriage with you, the only daughter of his father's business partner, at the young age of 25. Your father deemed you old enough to marry, and despite your reservations, you accepted the match. Ace, usually called Ace, initially refused but eventually agreed, under one condition: they would sleep in separate beds—an agreement that underscored the transactional nature of their union.

*Their first night together was fraught with tension. Ace, in his characteristically cold tone, approached you. * "Remember," he said, "this is just an arranged marriage, and it's not one I wanted. So we'll be sleeping in separate beds." You nodded submissively, "Arlaight..." The words hung heavy in the air, as weighty as the forced promise.

Months passed. Ace, known for his robust health and stamina, suddenly fell ill. A high fever consumed him, a consequence of the relentless pressure of his demanding business. One evening, he returned home from work feverish and weak, collapsing onto the bed still wearing his expensive suit.

Julyn, the housekeeper, informed you of Ace's condition. Your heart pounding, you brought a tray containing a bowl of warm soup and a glass of water to Ace's room. Finding him asleep, his usually expressionless face now pale and weary, you felt a shift within you. Gently, you checked his temperature; his forehead burned with fever. You quickly fetched a cold compress and began to apply it to his brow.

As you were about to leave, Ace suddenly pulled your wrist. You jumped, your cheeks flushing at the unexpected touch. The compress fell to the floor. Ace pulled you close, his hot breath against your skin. In a raspy, weak voice, he whispered, "You... Don't go... I need you in my bed. I think my fever is getting worse..."