Ethan’s body visibly stiffened.

His deep, unfathomable eyes scrutinized me sharply, as if peeling away my layers.


“Wife?” he repeated, his hoarse voice carrying a dangerous edge of skepticism.

I met his gaze without flinching and nestled closer, playing the role of a wronged wife seeking protection.

“Yes,” I blinked, forcing tears to well up, “We just got married today. They said you’d never wake up—they married me to you as a sacrificial lamb.”


I deliberately emphasized the word “they.”

The noise next door grew louder again, with Luna’s breathy voice floating through: “Zach, not so rough…”


Ethan’s brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

“Zachary?” he asked.

“Yes,” I nodded, letting my voice break, “He was my fiancé, and now he’s next door with my so-called sister… They said once you’re gone, they’d get rid of me too.”

As I spoke, I watched his expression carefully.

Though his face remained pale, the fury building in those eyes was unmistakable.

Pure, undiluted hatred and murderous intent.

According to rumors, before Ethan’s accident, he was ruthlessly efficient—the undisputed heir to the Lawrence empire.

His accident was surrounded by suspicious circumstances.

And the person who benefited most was his perpetually disappointing brother, Zachary.

Now I could see the rumors were true.

I’d bet on the right horse.

Ethan didn’t push me away. He loosened his grip slightly, but that burning heat remained.

“Get rid of you?” He savored each word, his lips curling into a cold smile. “How very bold of them.”

My heart leaped—my first move had worked.

I needed a powerful ally who could help me destroy the Johnsons and Zachary.

And Ethan Lawrence, freshly awakened and betrayed by his own blood, was the perfect candidate.

We were natural allies.

“Husband,” I continued, making my voice soft and vulnerable, “I’m terrified. Will you… fall back into that sleep?”

Ethan’s gaze lingered on my face as he remained silent.

His fingers twitched, as if he wanted to move them but found his body uncooperative after years of disuse.

I immediately understood and took his hand, pressing it against my cheek.

“Your hand is burning up. Do you have a fever?” I asked with practiced concern.

His palm was rough with calluses—nothing like the soft hands I’d expected from a wealthy heir.

“Not dying anytime soon,” he finally replied, his voice still hoarse but stronger, “From now on, you’ll be my eyes and ears.”

I nodded eagerly: “Of course!”

“Tell me everything about what’s happened in the Lawrence family these past two years.”

I took a deep breath and began my tale.

From how Zachary gradually seized control after the accident, to how the Johnsons latched onto him, to the revelation about Luna and me being switched at birth, and finally to this mockery of a marriage.

I spoke slowly and carefully, making sure he could process everything in his weakened state.

Ethan listened in silence, the storm in his dark eyes growing more violent with each revelation.

When I described how Zachary and Luna had mocked him as a "living corpse" right in front of me, his grip suddenly tightened painfully.

I couldn't suppress a small gasp of pain.

He immediately loosened his hold, a flicker of something almost like apology crossing his eyes.

"Continue."

By dawn, I had told him everything.

The room next door had finally fallen silent.

Ethan closed his eyes, processing the avalanche of information.

Not wanting to disturb him, I waited quietly by his side.

After what seemed like forever, he opened his eyes again. They appeared calm on the surface, but beneath that calm churned dangerous undercurrents.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Jade Johnson."

“Jade,” he repeated, his voice deep and resonant, “This performance—we’ll stage it together.”

I understood perfectly: “Yes, husband.”

Early the next morning, I was jolted awake by sharp, insistent knocking.

“Jade! You worthless girl! It’s nearly noon and you’re still not up to attend to the young master!”

It was Mrs. William, the Lawrence family’s housekeeper—a shameless social climber who treated people based solely on their status.

I rubbed my eyes and sat up, glancing at Ethan beside me.

His eyes were closed, his breathing steady—once again the comatose patient without a spark of life.

If not for the lingering heat on my wrist, I might have believed last night was just a desperate dream.

I straightened my nightgown and went to open the door.

Mrs. William stood with her hands on her hips, her face twisted with contempt: “Well, look who finally decided to get dressed! I thought you were planning to lie there until you rotted!”

Behind her stood Luna, dressed impeccably, with Zachary wearing a self-satisfied smirk.

Luna clung to Zachary’s arm, deliberately flashing her enormous diamond ring. “Sister dear, sleep well? Zach and I were concerned you might be frightened all alone, so we came to check on you.”

I met their gaze with a carefully blank expression.

"Actually, I slept wonderfully, thanks for asking."

"Did you really?" Luna covered her mouth in mock surprise. "Sleeping beside a vegetable and still resting well? My, what a strong constitution you have."

Zachary looked me over with undisguised disgust, as if my very existence contaminated his vision.

"Know your place, Jade. You're nothing but a sacrificial lamb we bought to bring my brother luck. Stop dreaming about things that will never be yours."

I lowered my eyes and clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.

"I understand."

"Good girl." Luna nodded with satisfaction, then stood on tiptoes to peer into the room. "Still the same vegetable, I see? How sad."

Her words expressed pity, but her eyes gleamed with malicious delight.

Just then, from the bed behind me came the faintest sound of a cough.

"Ahem."

The sound was barely audible, yet it hit the room like a thunderclap.