Chapter 1

On our wedding night, Stephen Benton, heir to the Benton family fortune, walked into the bedroom wearing white gloves, holding a bottle of disinfectant spray.

He sprayed my face without hesitation and said, "Elianna, stay away from me. I feel sick just looking at a gold-digger like you.

"Carley is the only one who can touch my body. You don't even deserve to stand in her shadow."

I said nothing. Calmly, I turned and went to fetch my blanket for the guest room.

As I passed him, the fabric of my nightdress accidentally brushed the back of his hand.

In the next second, the disgust on Stephen's face abruptly gave way to a deep flush.

He doubled over, grabbing my wrist tightly.

His breathing turned rough—ragged.

"What... what did you do to me?" he asked.

I looked at him. His body was already betraying him, veins standing out along his neck.

"Mr. Benton," I said evenly, "didn't you just say I disgust you?"

Stephen buried his face in my neck, inhaling sharply as if trying to steady himself, while grinding out through clenched teeth, "Shut up. Body and soul are separate things. My soul still despises you."

*****

I looked at Stephen calmly and said, "Mr. Benton, your soul better steer clear of my neck. Otherwise, I'll start thinking it's trying to cop a feel."

Stephen froze.

He jerked his head up, his eyes blazing red.

But his grip on my hand only tightened, his palm scorching hot, almost burning me.

"Cop a feel? Elianna, don't forget what you are," Stephen snapped. "You're just a prop Grandpa bought to fix me up. Did you really think you could play Mrs. Benton?"

I didn't even bother to argue and tried to peel his fingers off my wrist.

But the moment my fingertips touched his skin, he jerked like he'd been electrocuted.

A stifled groan rumbled from his throat.

His eyes looked even stranger now, filled with disgust, desire, and a messy struggle.

"Don't touch me." he shouted.

But even as he yelled, he buried his face deeper into my neck.

His contradictory actions made one thing clear to me.

Stephen's condition was even worse than I thought.

I sighed and stopped fighting back.

I said, "Should I call the family doctor for you, Mr. Benton? Right now, you look like you're having some kind of stress disorder."

"Shut up." Stephen barked.

He clenched his teeth, the veins on his forehead throbbing.

"I'm not sick." he growled.

Then, as if to prove his point, he jerked his hand away from me and staggered back a few steps.

He slumped against the wall, breathing hard.

His white shirt was drenched in sweat, clinging to him and outlining his toned physique.

Those captivating, almond-shaped eyes locked onto me, as if I was his sworn enemy.

"Get out to the guest room. Don't let me see you again," he snapped.

I nodded, hugged my blanket, and obediently made my way to the door.

Just as my hand touched the doorknob, his hoarse voice rang out from behind me. "Wait."

I turned around.

He pointed at the side of the bed I'd just slept on, his voice cold. "Take all the sheets and pillows from your side and toss them out. They're disgusting."

*****

The next morning, I got up early.

When I came downstairs, Dariel Benton, the head of the Benton family, was already sitting at the head of the table, reading the newspaper.

When he saw me, he put down the paper and gave me a warm, friendly smile. "Elianna, did you sleep well last night?"

I replied politely, "Yes, I did, Dariel."

"Alright." Dariel nodded, casting a meaningful glance upstairs.

"Stephen didn't mess with you, did he? That temper of his is just from being spoiled," Dariel said.

I just smiled and kept quiet.

Just then, the butler walked in, leading a woman in a white dress.

"Mr. Benton, Miss Bowers has arrived," the butler announced.

It was Carley Bowers, Stephen's unattainable love—the one he could never let go of.

When she saw me, a barely noticeable flicker of hostility flashed in her eyes, but she quickly replaced it with a gentle, innocent smile.

Carley said, "Elianna, you're up so early?"

She sat down beside me as if we were close friends, and a strong wave of perfume washed over me.

I had always been sensitive to smells, and this one was so strong and synthetic that it practically screamed chemicals.

So this was her prop for pretending to be his "savior."

Just as I was thinking that, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

Stephen was dressed in a sharp suit, his hair perfectly styled, back to that unapproachable, standoffish vibe he always had.

But the moment he saw Carley, his icy expression melted away.

"Carley, why are you here so early?" Stephen asked.

"I brought you breakfast." Carley chirped.

She held up the insulated container, grinning sweetly.

"I know you can't stand the food here, so I made something myself," she said.

Stephen glanced at me, then back at Carley, a mocking smirk playing on his lips.

"You're the only one who actually gets it. Unlike some people, who are just taking up space and doing nothing else," Stephen said sarcastically.

I kept my head down, acting like I didn't hear him at all.

Carley shot me a smug look, opened the container, and ladled out a bowl of soup for Stephen.

"Here, Stephen, give it a try," she said.

Stephen reached out to take it.

Right as he was about to grab the bowl, my phone rang on the table.

I went to grab it, and the back of my hand accidentally grazed his wrist.