Chapter 1

In recent days, I'd been accompanying a dating service group. My goal? To savor the complimentary refreshments at their gatherings while immersing myself in the vibrant social scene. In truth, I wasn't seeking romance but rather entertaining myself by watching the courtship rituals of today's singles.

The group wasn't exclusively young people. Several older women were present, eagerly trying to find partners for their offspring. One particular day, one of these mothers dropped a revelation that caused quite a stir.

She nonchalantly stated, "I possess 53 rental units, three luxury homes, and five lovable felines. All of this, along with other assets, will be passed down to my only child. Furthermore, I'm willing to provide my future daughter-in-law with a monthly stipend of $50,000."

The chat exploded with messages from women of diverse backgrounds clamoring for her attention. Inquiries poured in, questioning the authenticity of her claims.

She confidently confirmed the truth of her statement. However, she then added, "There's just one stipulation—my son is in an unresponsive state. I hope his future spouse won't find this problematic."

A hush descended upon the group like a thick fog, but I couldn't suppress a chuckle. To me, this seemed like an incredible opportunity gift-wrapped in luxury.

I had long ago decided that matrimony wasn't part of my future. Why restrict myself? Life was better lived freely. But if wedding a comatose man meant financial independence? That didn't seem like a bad deal at all.

I, Stella Greer, had one true passion: wealth.

Without delay, I sent her a message in the group conversation: "Why would I object? Your son is clearly my destined Slumbering Prince!"

The group burst into laughter and applause. Comments flooded in, calling me daring, humorous, and even brazen. I was unfazed. To me, it was all worthwhile.

Shortly after, the mother messaged me privately:

"Are you sincere? Do you genuinely want to wed my son? Or are you merely jesting?"

"Of course, I'm earnest!"

"Why?"

"Because of the financial aspect," I replied frankly. There was no need to disguise my motives—I was in it for the fortune.

She went quiet, and I thought I'd ruined my chance. But then, unexpectedly, I received a payment notification. She had transferred me $500 as travel expenses and invited me to visit her at Villa Eight in Starlight Bay, situated in Crescent Gardens. She promised a cordial reception.

Crescent Gardens was the city's most elite neighborhood, with residences averaging over $1 million. This woman wasn't just wealthy—she was extraordinarily rich.

Smiling, I unabashedly accepted the money and set off immediately.

Upon arriving at Villa Eight, I was met with an ambiance of opulence and grandeur. The villa's exterior was breathtaking, with impeccably maintained grounds and an air of nobility that made me feel slightly out of place.

After tidying my appearance, I rang the doorbell.

A stunning woman in her forties answered, her smile dazzling. She exuded elegance, appearing no older than her early thirties. Her flawless complexion and impeccable style made me feel as though I was meeting a celebrity.

"Hello, I'm Stella Greer," I introduced myself, offering my hand. "I'm a graduate of a renowned Ivy League institution, currently preparing for the civil service exam."

The woman, Abigail Winslow, shook my hand warmly, her eyes shining with approval. "You're youthful, attractive, and accomplished. Excellent."

After exchanging pleasantries, she ushered me inside, serving tea as we sat in the lavish living room. She inquired about my background—family, career, and goals.

"My parents separated when I was young, and neither maintained contact. I've been independent ever since," I explained. "Regarding my career, I'm a fashion designer earning around $100,000 annually."

Abigail nodded thoughtfully, her expression unreadable. She didn't probe further and soon motioned for me to follow her upstairs.

"Are we going to meet my Slumbering Prince now?" I joked.

She smiled. "Yes, my son is indeed my precious Slumbering Prince."

We ascended to the third floor and entered a bedroom. I wasn't expecting much—I'd already prepared myself for a purely practical arrangement. I didn't need to fall in love. I only needed to secure the agreement and fulfill my obligations.

But the moment I saw him, my heart skipped a beat.

There he lay, peacefully on the bed. His long eyelashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks, and his features were so perfect they seemed crafted by an artist. His collarbones were visible beneath his shirt, sharp and defined, giving him an ethereal grace.

My pulse quickened. My mind exclaimed, This... this is my prince.

For the first time in my life, I felt a spark—something beyond ambition or greed. Was it exhilaration? Was it allure?

Whatever it was, I knew one thing: this wasn't going to be as straightforward as I had anticipated.