Chapter 1

“Ma’am, Mr. Adrian’s $1 million compensation has been successfully deposited.” The message from my husband’s assistant arrives just as I regain consciousness.

As the wife of Adrian, the youngest CEO of a publicly traded pharmaceutical company, everyone envies the life I appear to have. But behind this, it’s the fifth time this month I’ve been dragged out of the operating room. My blood and tissues are needed by my husband’s company, and I’m required to provide them regularly.

Before I entered this marriage, I knew it was a deal. It’s as though I have some rare medical condition—one that requires Adrian to use my body for his company’s research. Lately, the surgeries have become more frequent, and it’s beginning to take its toll on me. In exchange, I marry the man I’ve loved my whole life, receiving monthly transfers of millions of dollars.

I know Adrian isn’t good at expressing his care with words—he shows it through money instead. Though compared to the success of my husband’s booming business, what I receive is a mere pittance, I don’t need money. What I crave is to be valued by the person I love—even if, to him, I am more valuable as a subject for his experiments than as his wife.

The cost of his company’s success is that Adrian is always busy. He’s almost on-call 24/7. To ease his burden and be a good wife, I spend more time communicating with his assistant than with him.

“Where is Adrian? Will he be coming home today?”

The assistant’s reply comes swiftly. “Ma’am, Mr. Adrian had originally planned to visit you after your procedure, but something urgent came up, and his schedule changed. However, if you miss him, he has an interview on The Morning Hour on Channel 5.”

The door to my room clicks open, the nurses expertly sliding me inside and placing me up against the wall, facing the television. Before she can leave, I grab her hand.

“Oh! My husband has an interview today, can you please put it on for me?” I kindly ask. The nurse nods and switches on the television.

“Your company’s stock has skyrocketed and it is all because of your groundbreaking research! How does it feel to be on the same level as other medical entrepreneurs who are older than you and have been in the game for much longer?” an interviewer asks from the television screen.

My eyes narrow on Adrian’s face, watching as his lips press into a thin line.

“It is an honor,” Adrian coolly responds.

“There are rumors of your marital status rolling around after you were spotted with a famous actress at a restaurant last week. Do you think this will have an effect on stock prices for your company?”

Adrian’s green eyes remain focused on the interviewer, tanned hands resting in his lap. His dirty blonde hair catches my attention; it’s not in its usual slicked-back style and is much more relaxed. It’s attractive on him.

“If the stock prices change, then people are focusing on the wrong thing,” Adrian’s tone grows serious, irritated.

He remains loyal to me, having always kept women at bay and at arm’s distance. Although he doesn’t love me, he doesn’t love any other woman either—perhaps because he devotes all his time to his career.

Adrian doesn’t like having any women in the house besides his wife, which means we don’t have a maid. The heavy household duties force me to give up the part-time coding job I once relied on. I am very good at writing code—perhaps one of the most talented hackers in my field.

I once created a firewall for the Obsidian Pact, one of the most powerful mafias today. Even after years, it remains untouchable. Several of their young leaders hold me in high regard, even calling me their sister. I am grateful for their appreciation. But for Adrian and his business, I chose to quit.

Maybe Adrian doesn’t love me now, but I believe that as time goes on, my efforts will eventually be noticed.

My phone rings from my lap. I turn it over and see my mother’s contact photo and name. I take a deep breath and press the green button to accept, bringing the phone to my ear.

I know she’s not calling to check in on me.

“Stella! Why aren’t you taking care of your sister?! You know she needs you!” My mother’s voice screeches from the other end of the call.

“I’m sick. I don’t know how much help I can be to Clara,” I breathe into the phone.

“Your sister has been in a coma for the past five years and here you are complaining about a minor illness. Get up and take care of your sister. Now!”

Before I can respond, my mother ends the call, leaving me in silence. The bitter taste from before returns.

My mother only cares for Clara and not me. Is it because Clara shares the same shade of blue eyes while mine are hazel?