My disabled husband is a millionaire

Alice stood at the window in the hospital corridor, gazing at her reflection in the glass—her beautiful face and graceful figure. Who doesn't love a beautiful woman? But being beautiful doesn't mean one receives a lot of love. She had just completed a twelve-hour heart surgery. Her white coat was still on, and the red marks from the mask were still visible on her face. Yet, she was happy because she had just saved a life. This was probably the reason she had wanted to become a doctor. "Alice..." A familiar yet distant voice called from behind. She turned and saw her adoptive parents, whom she hadn't seen in three years. They looked just as young as they had three years ago. Alice felt a pang of emotion—were they here to see her? But they had once told her that their home was no longer welcome to her, even throwing her luggage outside. So, Alice hadn't returned in three years. "We..." Her adoptive mother fidgeted, hesitating to speak. Alice stared at them coldly. Memories flooded back—she remembered being eight years old, holding her adoptive parents' hands as they led her into a beautiful villa, telling her this was her new home. Back then, her adoptive mother would gently comb her hair, and her adoptive father would teach her to play the piano. Until Lilian was born. Everything changed. She didn't hate them for treating her and Lilian differently, but it still hurt. "Just say what you need to say," Alice said, removing her mask to reveal a delicate but exhausted face. Her adoptive father took a deep breath. "The Laurence family has taken an interest in Lilian... They want her to marry into their family tomorrow." Alice replied indifferently, "Congratulations." Her adoptive father continued, "But we don't want Lilian to marry into that family." Alice interrupted him, "Haven't you always been proud of Lilian? Marrying into the Laurence family should be exactly what you wanted, right?" "But..." Her adoptive mother suddenly burst into tears. "Lilian doesn't want to. She says the man is about to die... And I heard there's a white tiger in that household, one that eats people! Lilian can't marry into that family! If she does, her life will be ruined! She's our only daughter! We can't let her suffer!" Alice felt dizzy. She steadied herself against the windowsill. So, they couldn't bear to see their biological daughter become a widow, so they thought of her, their adopted daughter. "Only one daughter"... So, they had never truly considered her their daughter. When they first adopted Alice, they had treated her well. She was only seven years old then. But when Alice was eight, they had their own biological daughter, and from then on, they grew cold toward her. Alice was even reduced to eating only one meal a day. She had once thought that her adoptive parents still loved her, even if they had their own daughter. But now, she knew better. They never loved her. "You want me to take her place?" Alice sneered. "You want me to marry a dying man? Lilian doesn't want to, so you expect me to ruin my life to save hers?" Her adoptive father suddenly spoke up, "Alice, the Laurence family has promised us fifty million. We can give you half..." "My selling price, and you'll give me half?" Alice found it utterly ridiculous. "How could you think I'd agree to this?" "Then... then we won't take the money! Just help us out in front of the Laurence family in the future..." Alice didn't respond, and her adoptive mother added, "We've raised you for over ten years. Isn't it time for you to repay us?" Alice let out a cold laugh. "Repay you? For over ten years, I collected bottles to sell for food, did other people's homework to pay for my tuition. How can you even say you raised me?" Her adoptive mother looked guilty but shamelessly continued, "Alice, I know we've wronged you over the years. But Lilian is my only child. I can't watch her throw herself into a pit of fire." Alice remained unmoved. Her adoptive mother decided to resort to emotional blackmail. "Do you want me to kneel before you?" Alice looked at the two of them and suddenly remembered when she was fifteen, running a high fever but being sent out to buy ice cream for Lilian because she wanted it. It was raining heavily that day, and she fell on the road, her knee bleeding profusely. When she returned home, her adoptive mother simply said coldly, "Don't dirty the floor." Even though she knew they had never loved her, it still hurt. "I can agree," Alice heard herself say. "But I have one condition." Her adoptive parents looked up, a glimmer of hope in their eyes. "On the day of the wedding, you will sign a document severing all ties with me," Alice said, word by word. "From then on, whether I live or die in the Laurence family, it will have nothing to do with you." Her adoptive parents exchanged a glance, and her adoptive father trembled as he spoke, "Okay..." They had long wanted to cut ties with Alice. Her leaving was just what they wanted. Alice turned and walked away, tears finally streaming down her face. She remembered how she had studied relentlessly, gotten into medical school, all to one day escape this family. Yet, in the end, she couldn't escape being used. During the surgery earlier, she had seen the patient's parents kneeling before her, begging her to save their child. But her adoptive parents were willing to sacrifice her happiness, her life, even her very existence, for their biological daughter. Indeed, an adopted daughter could never compare to a biological one. Alice couldn't help but wonder—if she had never been adopted by them, would she be suffering so much now? Alice was in too much pain. She wanted to drown her sorrows in alcohol. She stood at the entrance of a bar, the damp night wind carrying the distinct smell of London's coal smoke. She wiped the corner of her eye, only to find her tears had already dried. Yes, she didn't even have the strength to cry anymore. Pushing open the heavy oak door, the smell of cheap whiskey mixed with the sour stench of sweat hit her. Alice staggered to the bar and slapped her last coin on the counter. "Give me the strongest drink you have," her voice was hoarse, barely recognizable. The bartender handed her a glass of whiskey, its amber color glowing under the dim gaslight. Alice tilted her head back and downed it in one go, the burning sensation spreading from her throat to her stomach. She ordered another, this time sipping it slowly, her gaze wandering aimlessly over the various patrons in the bar. That's when she saw him. In the darkest corner of the bar, a man sat alone. He wore an exquisite black suit, completely out of place in the crude surroundings. His profile was strikingly sharp in the flickering candlelight, with a high nose and tightly pressed thin lips. But what stood out most was his complexion—pale, almost transparent, as if the blue veins beneath his skin were visible. Alice felt her heart skip a beat. She had never seen such a handsome man, but his pallor gave her an inexplicable sense of dread. Just as she was about to look away, the man suddenly turned his head, and their eyes met. His gaze was predatory, filled with a terrifying intensity. His dark pupils seemed to burn with a kind of madness. Alice wanted to look away but found herself frozen. She watched as the man stood up and walked toward her. His steps were elegant and measured, yet carried the dangerous aura of a predator.