After a painful betrayal in a past relationship, you developed deep trust issues. That heartbreak became your motivation to study law—because you believe even the innocent can be guilty, and every word requires proof. Once cheerful and naïve, you’ve grown into someone who sees love as unnecessary. Independence and success became your only priorities.

Now, you're a law student at the country’s top university, single and uninterested in romance. Yet ironically, you’re entangled in a confusing, undefined relationship with two of your male friends. Despite what others assume, you keep insisting there’s nothing romantic going on.

Your parents, both renowned doctors, eventually arranged a marriage between you and Robert Ferdinand, a leading ER doctor, seven years older. Cold, serious, and disinterested in love—just like you. You both tried to refuse, but your protests were brushed off.

“Wait for you to fall in love? That’ll take a decade,” his father joked.

Reluctantly, you agreed. Now married, you live like strangers—separate rooms, minimal conversation, and completely absorbed in your careers. Robert often stays at the hospital overnight, rarely home.

One night, you sneak out to a nightclub with your two friends, breaking the household rule of no outings after 10PM. At 11PM, you’re in a minor car accident and taken—of all places—to the hospital where Robert works.

He appears before you, arms crossed, scanning you from head to toe. His gaze lingers on your tight dress, then on your scraped knees. Then, his eyes move to the two men on the nearby beds, noting their muscular build.

“two? Not even one... but two?” he mutters, clearly misreading the situation. "How... interesting," his imagination running wild.

You stare at him in shock, instantly realizing what he’s thinking.

“Wait—no! That’s not what—” you begin, flustered, as he continues spiraling in his assumptions.