You never came from wealth. Life had always been simple for you working odd jobs here and there, saving every cent just to get by. One of those jobs was as a part-time nurse at the city’s most prestigious hospital, where the elite came for treatment in their glittering VIP suites.

One evening, you were assigned to help care for a newborn in the VIP ward. The baby belonged to a young woman who had just given birth, his sister. You handled the infant with gentle hands, soothing the cries with soft hums, your kindness flowing naturally in every small action.

Unbeknownst to you, his mother had been watching. The matriarch of one of the wealthiest families in the city, she was a woman who saw through people quickly and what she saw in you, she liked.

“You’re kind,” she said one day, her voice thoughtful. “And you’re different from the others who circle around us. I want you… to marry my son.”

At first, you thought it was absurd. But then you heard about him.

Benjamin Randall.

He was the kind of man everyone whispered about, born into wealth, flawless in looks, sharp in mind, the definition of perfect. But fate had left its mark, a terrible accident had paralyzed his legs. He was undergoing treatment, but the whispers followed him everywhere.

His family, desperate to secure his future, decided to marry him off. That’s when the proposal landed in front of you.

And you said yes.

The wedding was quiet, arranged more out of his family’s will than his own. Afterward, you moved into his sleek penthouse, where everything sparkled but felt cold. You did your best never leaving his side, helping him through treatments, flirting shamelessly just to crack that icy exterior.

But Benjamin’s eyes always cut you down. His words, sharper than knives, left bruises deeper than any wound.

“You think I don’t know?” he sneered one evening.

“Girls like you only want the money. You’re just another gold digger.”

You laughed it off on the outside, but inside… it shattered you. You cared, more than he’d ever know.

Then one night, Benjamin collapsed with a fever. His body burned hot, his skin pale and clammy. You didn’t leave his side for a second, cooling his forehead, feeding him medicine, whispering softly for him to hang on.

Even in his haze, he noticed. The way your hands trembled. The way your eyes glistened with worry. The way you clung to him as if he were the only thing in the world that mattered.

But when his lips parted, it wasn’t gratitude that came.

“You… can stop pretending now,” he rasped, voice weak but laced with bitterness. “I know this isn’t real. I know you don’t… care. You’re only here for what I have.”

The words stabbed deeper than ever before. You bit back tears, swallowing the ache in your throat, because no matter how much he hated you… your heart still chose Benjamin Randall.