Chapter 1

The first time Sophia Reed met Damien Cross was in the filthiest clinic in Riverside City.

She knelt on the floor, clutching the hospital payment slip. Her mother's kidney failure had reached its final stage. Dialysis cost thirty thousand a month. She had two hundred dollars left.

The clinic owner, an old man in a dusty gray suit, slid a contract across to her. "Sign it, and your mother will be transferred to a private hospital. I'll cover everything."

The contract read: Three years as Damien Cross's personal caretaker.

"Just a caretaker?" Sophia asked.

The old man smiled. "You'll take care of everything for him. Including his needs in bed."

The first time Sophia Reed met Damien Cross was in the filthiest clinic in Riverside City.

She knelt on the floor, clutching the hospital payment slip in her hand.

Her mother's kidney failure had reached its final stage. Dialysis cost thirty thousand dollars a month.

And in her pocket, she only had two hundred dollars left.

The owner of the clinic was named Cross. A man in his sixties wearing a dusty gray suit.

He looked at Sophia and slid a contract across to her.

"Sign it, and your mother will be transferred to a private hospital immediately. I'll cover all the expenses."

Sophia took the contract. Her fingers trembled.

The contract read: Voluntary agreement to serve as Damien's personal caretaker for a term of three years.

"Just a caretaker?"

She looked up and asked.

Mr. Cross smiled.

"Not just a caretaker. My son has a special condition. You'll need to take care of everything for him."

"Everything?"

"Yes. You'll take care of everything for him. Including his needs in bed."

Sophia's face went deathly pale.

She understood exactly what those four words meant.

Mr. Cross sighed.

"My son's name is Damien Cross. When he was twenty-two, someone poisoned him. The toxins haven't been completely cleared from his body, and they flare up once every seven days."

"When they do, he's in excruciating pain, loses control of himself, and needs someone to help him through it."

"I used to hire girls from outside, but he's become increasingly resistant to that."

"I need someone fixed, clean, and able to keep her mouth shut."

Sophia's knuckles turned white as she gripped the contract.

"Why me?"

"Because you're clean. I've investigated you. You've never been in a relationship, your mother is your only living relative, and you desperately need money."

Mr. Cross's gaze was cold.

"And you're beautiful. He'll like you."

Sophia closed her eyes.

In her mind, she saw her mother lying in a hospital bed, tubes running everywhere through her body.

She stayed silent for a long time, then finally signed her name.

......

Six months later, Damien sat on the living room sofa while Sophia knelt beside his leg, changing his bandages.

He had a knife wound on his thigh from last night's gang fight.

Sophia's movements were gentle, afraid of hurting him.

But Damien still frowned and kicked her shoulder.

Sophia fell backward from the kick, her forehead hitting the corner of the coffee table. A large bump immediately swelled up.

She didn't make a sound.

She got up and continued changing his bandages.

"Does it hurt?"

She asked softly.

Damien glanced at her but said nothing.

In the past six months, he'd never really looked at her properly.

In his eyes, Sophia was just a tool Mr. Cross had bought with money.

A talking sex doll.

But Sophia didn't think of it that way.

She remembered that rainy night three months ago.

The toxins in Damien's body had flared up. He curled up on the floor in agony, drenched in cold sweat.

She followed the method Mr. Cross had taught her and helped him through it.

Afterward, Damien held her and called out a name.

"Claire."

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and cried like a child.

Sophia held him and gently patted his back.

In that moment, she felt needed.

Even though the name he called was someone else's.

From that day on, Sophia secretly began to fall for this man.

She would tie his necktie for him before he went out.

She would make him hot sobering soup when he came home drunk.

She memorized all his little habits. Like how he preferred his steak medium-rare, drank his Americano, and hated rainy days.

She thought that if she was good enough, one day he would finally see her.

But she didn't know.

The woman named Claire was about to come back.

......

Damien was on the phone when Sophia was in the kitchen cooking his steak.

"Claire's back?"

His voice came from the living room, carrying an excitement she'd never heard before.

Sophia's spatula paused mid-air.

"Where are you? I'll come right away."

Damien hung up and headed straight for the door.

Sophia rushed out, still holding the freshly cooked steak.

"Where are you going?"

Damien didn't look back.

"None of your business."

The door slammed shut.

Sophia stood there, looking at the still-steaming steak in her hands.

She suddenly felt her eyes sting.

Just then, her phone buzzed.

It was a message from the Cross family's private doctor.

"Miss Reed, your pregnancy test results are in. You're two weeks pregnant. I recommend you avoid excessive physical strain in the coming period."

Sophia stared at the message. Her hand trembled.

She was pregnant.

She hadn't had a chance to tell Damien yet.

And Damien had already left to find another woman.

She leaned against the wall and slowly slid down to a crouch.

Tears fell onto the floor without a sound.

She heard something inside her heart crack open.