Chapter 1

I married a comatose woman, and everyone in town called me insane.

What they didn't know was that I had loved her for ten whole years. I was simply following my heart.

For three years, I massaged her limbs every single day, scheduled all her therapy sessions, and took care of her every need.

Then, one night, she suddenly opened her eyes.

I broke down in tears and pulled her into a tight hug, only for her to shove me off with pure disgust in her eyes.

"Sean, who gave you permission to sleep in my bed?"

The second Nicole woke up, she kicked me off the bed and threw me out of the room without missing a beat.

The very next day, she contacted the press and made a high-profile announcement about her return.

After that, she never set foot in our home again. The only time I caught a glimpse of her was on the news.

Within a week, she had seized total control of Vance Enterprises. Her ruthless efficiency took my breath away.

The next time I saw her was at a high-end restaurant. She looked down at me from where she sat and slid a folder across the table.

I opened it. The bold words stamped on the top burned into my eyes: DIVORCE SETTLEMENT.

I had to admit, now that she was the CEO of Vance Enterprises, the compensation she offered for my three years of caregiving was an astronomical figure.

When I flipped to the final page, my fingers froze. I looked up at her.

The agreement specified an effective date: three months from now.

"Why three months?" I asked, bewildered.

Her lip curled in contempt, as if my question was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.

Just then, a man stepped out from the private dining room behind her, a smug smirk plastered across his face.

"Nicole's position at the company isn't entirely solid yet," Julian explained smoothly. "If the media catches wind of her divorce right now, they’ll tear her apart."

His words drove into my chest like a rusty blade.

I knew Julian Brooks. I had seen him a few times before Nicole’s accident.

He was the one that got away—the man she had always pined for. Nicole was terrified that the scandal of a divorce would hurt her corporate image, yet she couldn't care less about the fallout of an open affair.

In the end, it all boiled down to one brutal truth: she never loved me.

"Sign it and have it delivered to my assistant," Nicole said, turning on her heel and slipping her arm through Julian’s.

I watched her walk away for a long time.

It felt as if my entire twenties had revolved around Nicole, yet her gaze had never lingered on me for even a second.

Three years ago, Nicole's father suffered a fatal stroke. Vance Enterprises fell into sheer chaos.

Even the distant relatives swarmed in, eager to carve out a piece of the empire.

Nicole spent six grueling months fighting a losing battle until late one night, a speeding semi-truck rammed straight into her car. As she lay bleeding out in my arms, she whispered that she never wanted to return to that vipers' nest.

She begged me to take her away if she survived.

But her greedy relatives would never let her slip into my hands. Anyone who knew the internal politics understood that the crash was no accident.

If a comatose Nicole were left at their mercy, she wouldn't have survived the week.

To gain legal guardianship and protect her, I offered to marry her.

Her family gladly agreed just to keep her out of the estate division, even throwing us a lavish wedding to wash their hands of her.

After the wedding, I gave her everything I had. Even when the doctors told me there was less than a one-percent chance of her waking up, I never once considered giving up.

A miracle happened. Nicole woke up.

And the first thing she did was erase me as her husband.

It was almost funny how calculated her timing was. She woke up right when her half-brother and the rival branch had torn each other apart. Half the old-guard board members had been ousted, dumping their shares in a panic.

With the two factions bleeding out, Vance Enterprises was on the brink of collapse. That was when Nicole swooped in with her pre-arranged network, swallowed up the dumped shares, and crowned herself majority shareholder.

I refused to believe that someone in a three-year coma could orchestrate such a masterstroke the instant her eyes fluttered open.

Every move had been meticulously planned.

No wonder she had texted me out of the blue that night, asking to buy me dinner. I was never a savior to her. I was just a pawn she used to bench herself safely while the family war played out.

After all, who else in the world would be foolish enough to marry a comatose woman?

She had known about my feelings for a decade. She had simply chosen to use them.

That night, Nicole walked through the front door and asked if I had signed the papers.

I nodded.

"I'll be staying here for a while," she said cold-bloodedly. "Move out of the master bedroom."

"This is my house," I pointed out softly.

Nicole's face darkened instantly. "Sean, I’m not bargaining with you. If I wanted you out, I could buy this entire apartment complex tomorrow. I’m already being polite."

I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.

Polite? She had manipulated my decade-long devotion to draw me into her corporate trap, and she called this polite?

Nicole turned to head upstairs. Julian, who was carrying her luggage, shot me a mocking grin that oozed triumph.

"Nicole," I called out.

She stopped on the staircase, looking back at me.

"Are you kicking me out just to make room for Julian?"

Her eyes flared with disgust. "Sean, what right do you have to question my personal life?"

My body froze. The divorce papers were already signed. She was right. I had no right.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "I crossed the line."

For some reason, my surrender only seemed to make her angrier.