Divorce? Not So Fast, Wife!

"Claire, marrying Richard must feel like such a sacrifice for you." "Here's a card with five million as compensation. You'll also receive five hundred thousand every month for pocket money. But you'll need to take care of Richard's daily needs and hygiene." "Also," the woman added with a meaningful smile, "if you manage to conceive his child and give birth, you'll be rewarded with fifty million." In the elegant grand hall of the Hawkins Villa, a poised and graceful woman held Claire Ashford's hand, speaking gently. Claire, draped in a flowing white wedding gown, her delicate figure and refined features glowing, turned to glance at her soon-to-be husband—a stately red rooster perched in a cage. With a soft smile, she said, "Don't worry, Mom. I'll take good care of Richard." Amid the subtle mocking stares of the gathered guests, Claire calmly completed the ceremony with the rooster. No one had forced her into this arrangement. She had willingly embraced it, even relishing the sweetness of the deal. Three months ago, Richard Hawkins, the head of the Hawkins Family and a towering figure in the business world, barely survived a yacht accident that left him in a coma. Doctors had grimly declared he might never wake up. Helen Hawkins, his mother, was devastated by the prospect of losing her brilliant son and determined not to let the Hawkins lineage end. She decided to proceed with the arranged marriage between Richard and Claire, a match agreed upon during their childhood. But since Richard couldn't attend, a large red rooster was used in his place to complete the ceremony. The arrangement was more about finding a caretaker for Richard than an actual marriage. The Ashford Family, unwilling to let their beloved daughter Evelyn Ashford marry into a bleak future, offered Claire, their adopted daughter, instead. Claire didn't mind. With Richard in a coma, she would simply care for him until his passing and walk away with a hefty inheritance. It seemed like a smart deal. After the ceremony, Helen sighed as she looked at Claire. "Claire, let Valeria take you upstairs. She'll teach you how to care for Richard." "Alright," Claire replied with a polite smile and followed the older woman up the stairs. Behind her, murmurs floated up from the guests below. "This girl seems gentle enough. If she can take care of him well, it might work out." "Maybe she'll even give us an heir for the Hawkins line. That would be a blessing." "But who knows if Richard, in his state, is even capable of…" Claire's lips twitched at their words. She thought, 'Capable? He's in a coma. How exactly is that supposed to happen? Would I need to handle that myself?' The idea sent a shiver down her spine. 'Forget it. Too terrifying. I'll just stick to playing nurse.' "Madam, this is the master's room," Valeria said, opening the door with a respectful nod. Claire stepped inside, her eyes immediately drawn to the man lying motionless on the large bed. Even unconscious, Richard's features were striking—symmetrical and sculpted, though his skin had taken on an eerie pallor. Despite his stillness, his presence was commanding, a silent reminder of his authority and power. She took a hesitant step closer, her gaze fixed on his serene face. 'What a shame,' she thought. 'If he opened his eyes, I bet they'd be stunning.' Valeria moved beside her and began explaining the care routine. "You'll need to wash him daily, change his clothes, and ensure these tubes stay secure. Be gentle; they're critical for his care…" As Valeria continued, Claire felt her cheeks warm. 'Changing his clothes? Even his…' She swallowed hard. 'I've never even dated anyone before, and now I'm doing this?' Gathering her courage, Claire fetched a basin of warm water and began to clean Richard's body, following Valeria's instructions. As she pulled up his shirt, she noticed faint traces of abs. 'Even after three months in a coma, he still has abs?' She pressed a finger against them lightly. They felt soft but… oddly satisfying. She gave them another squeeze. 'What harm is there? He's my husband in name, after all,' she reasoned. 'It's not like he'll wake up from a couple of squeezes.' Smirking, she resumed cleaning him. By the time she finished, her face was flushed, and her back ached. Slumping into a nearby chair, Claire rested her chin on her hands, her gaze drifting back to Richard. His features were impossibly handsome, his closed eyes hinting at untold depths. She found herself reaching out again, gently touching his eyelids. 'What a pity,' she mused. 'Will I ever see those eyes open?' Beneath her fingertip, something twitched. Startled, Claire snatched her hand away, her heart pounding. She took a step back, staring at Richard in shock. His eyes opened. Wide, piercing, and full of awareness. Claire gasped, stumbling backward and landing on the floor with a thud. Her mind raced as she struggled to process what she was seeing. Hearing her scream, Valeria burst into the room. "Madam, what's wrong? Oh my… he's awake!" Chaos erupted in the Hawkins Villa as word spread. Servants and family members rushed to Richard's bedside, their voices filled with excitement. Meanwhile, Claire sat on the floor, nursing her sore backside and doing her best to fade into the background. Helen was beside herself with joy. "Richard, you're finally awake!" But Richard's eyes fluttered closed again, and his breathing steadied. He had slipped back into unconsciousness. "Claire," Helen said, turning to Claire, her voice eager, "what did you do to wake him up?" Claire froze. Could she really admit to squeezing his abs?