Chapter 2

Never in my wildest dreams did I expect my Sleeping Prince to be so incredibly attractive. His appearance could easily match that of a movie star!

For the longest time, I had been uninterested in men, but now? I found myself completely transformed.

It seemed the gossip was accurate—women truly were shallow beings.

Abigail Winslow, the refined lady seated beside his bed, softly clasped her son's hand and caressed it as she gazed at me. Her voice was gentle but laced with melancholy. "Stella, allow me to introduce my son, Adrian Winslow. He lost his father at a young age. I hoped he would grow up to be strong and healthy, but life had different plans. A terrible car crash took everything from him..."

Her voice faltered, and her eyes welled up as she looked at Adrian's motionless form.

I felt a wave of compassion wash over me. Despite my selfish reasons for being here, I couldn't help but feel sorry for this family's misfortune.

"Perhaps a miracle will occur, and Adrian will regain consciousness," I offered, attempting to provide some solace.

She shook her head, her lips quivering. "He's been under treatment for such a long time. The medical professionals have confirmed he's in an irreversible vegetative state..." Her voice cracked as tears threatened to spill.

Unable to find more comforting words, I remained quiet.

After a while, Abigail collected herself and escorted me downstairs. "Stella, if you're agreeable, you can move in right away. Stay for six months, and if you don't have a change of heart, we'll discuss the marriage arrangement."

I was taken aback. "Move in now?"

"Indeed. My business in Crescent City has been postponed far too long, and I must leave soon. The butler and housekeepers will assist you in settling in. Consider this house your own," she said with a reassuring smile.

I surveyed the opulent mansion around us. The prospect of living here seemed like a fantasy come true. This place exuded luxury from every corner.

"Alright," I agreed with a nod. Her trust in me was unexpected, but I wasn't about to squander it.

Abigail smiled warmly. "Excellent. Since you're here for financial reasons, I'll need to conduct a thorough background check. You're comfortable with that, correct?"

What a forthright woman!

"Certainly," I replied, unfazed.

She shook my hand firmly. "You're honest, Stella, and I appreciate that about you. Over the past couple of years, I've met numerous potential daughters-in-law, but none of them felt right. You're the first who seems... authentic."

Her words caught me off guard. Authentic? Me? Nevertheless, I smiled and nodded politely.

"I'll entrust everything to you. Simply keep Adrian company, talk to him, and let the staff handle the rest. I'll transfer your monthly allowance to you," she added.

I couldn't help but nod enthusiastically.

That very day, Abigail departed for Crescent City, and I officially moved into the villa with my few belongings.

The butler and maids were indeed present, but they had little to do in such a well-maintained home. Most of the time, they lingered around idly, leaving me to my own devices.

I selected the room adjacent to Adrian's. It was bright and airy, with large windows overlooking the garden—an ideal spot for relaxation or study.

After unpacking, I decided to visit Adrian.

Upon entering his room, he appeared as peaceful as before, his handsome features somehow even more striking in the soft light.

"What a shame," I murmured under my breath. "A prince like you doesn't deserve to be in this condition..."

Taking a seat by his bed, I introduced myself with a grin. "Hello, Mr. Winslow. I'm Stella Greer, your future wife. From today onwards, I'll be looking after you."

As expected, he remained unresponsive.

Later, I returned to my room and opened my laptop. Curiosity got the better of me, and I began researching vegetative states.

I discovered that there were three types: one where patients had minimal consciousness, another where they could open their eyes subconsciously but remained unaware, and the last—a permanent vegetative state—where no consciousness remained at all.

Unfortunately, Adrian fell into the third category.

I also looked into the possibility of recovery. While cases of miraculous recovery existed, they were extremely rare. Methods like stimulation and massage could help, but the chances were virtually non-existent.

Sighing, I closed my laptop. A one-in-a-million chance might as well be no chance at all.

A faint cough startled me, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Adrian?" I whispered, hurrying to his room.

To my disappointment, he was still lying there, motionless and serene.

Scratching my head, I concluded it must have been my imagination. There was no way he could have coughed.

"Well," I muttered to myself, "I might as well do my part. Earn the allowance, be a dutiful daughter-in-law, and live comfortably."

Speaking of which, Abigail had just transferred $100,000 into my account. Seeing the notification brightened my mood considerably.

With this kind of money, living in the villa would be a dream come true. I could eat, drink, and enjoy life without any worries.

For the first time in a long while, I felt truly at peace. Perhaps this arrangement wasn't such a bad idea after all.