Chapter 1

Marrying a half dead man, it certainly wasn't part of Avery's plans for her life.

But when fate had you locked, survival becomes more important than dreams.

The wedding was held in Anthony’s private suite in the family estate. He lay motionless, dressed in a finely tailored suit, eyes closed, the very image of sleep but with none of its promise.

“With the power bestowed upon me, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the groom" the priest said solemnly dragging Avery to reality, to the burning gaze of the people in the room. Mostly family members and friends who had come to witness the wedding.

Avery leaned down and placed a soft, mechanical kiss on Anthony’s pale lips. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t move. He didn’t even know.

The deed was done.

Would she be happy in this marriage? Was she even making the right choice? Of course it was to save her mother's life so it was right. But then, it would cost her happiness, maybe for a short time but marrying a man in a persistent vegetative state, it wasn't her plans.

The moment she agreed to the arrangement, Avery knew she had given up her dreams, for her mother, who's surgery cost over two hundred thousand dollars.

“Congratulations Avery" a woman greeted Avery with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Avery just glance over at her before turning back to Anthony who laid half dead.

“Thank you" she responded.

“ I'm Anthony's sister-in-law, Lana.” She introduced herself "so why marry a man who's half dead?" Lana asked.

“I needed the money to—”

"Of course you needed the money, gold diggers usually do” her tone was sweet yet threatening.

Avery froze.

Lana leaned in, her voice a whisper now. “Let me be clear. When he dies, and he will, you’ll be out of this house faster than you came in. No inheritance. No security. Not even a damn toothbrush. So play nice. Know your place.”

“I only came for what was agreed,” Avery replied, her voice quiet and calm.

Lana’s smile returned instantly. “Good. I'm glad we're all one big happy family now.”

Before Avery could respond, Valerie approached. Poised and graceful like a queen, but with tired eyes that betrayed her grief. Lana smiled at Mrs Valerie before walking away. “You’ve been through enough. You should rest. Your things will be brought up. And tomorrow, if you’re up to it, I’d like to talk. About the future.”

Avery nodded. “Of course, Mrs. Hartford.”

“Call me Valerie, dear.” she hugged Avery gently before leaving.

As the guests left, the room became quiet again, Avery stood at Anthony’s bedside. He was charming even at death's door, thick brows, chiseled jawline, his thin lips parted slightly. She hovered her hand over his forehead, then hesitantly brushed her fingers through his hair. It was clean. Soft and silky.

Avery gasped, stepping back. As his eyes slowly opened, he just stared into space like someone in a trance.

She spun around and bolted from the room, heart thudding. “He’s awake!” she yelled. “He’s awake!”

“Call the doctor!"

She nearly knocked over a maid as she reached the hallway. The woman steadied her and followed quickly back into the room.

“He’s not… fully awake,” the maid said gently, observing Anthony’s blank stare. “His eyes are open sometimes, but he doesn’t respond. No signs of awareness yet. I’m Meyer the cook, by the way.”

Avery exhaled, her body sagging as her heart beat returned to normal “I’m Avery,” she said quietly.

Meyer gave her a kind look. “I hope he comes back.”

She left the room, leaving Avery alone once again.

Three months ago, her father had kicked them out of the house, said he had a “new life” to live with his mistress and her perfect little daughter. Since then, Avery had worked three shifts at a diner, barely scraping enough to afford food, let alone cover the medical bills. Her mother’s hypertension had spiraled into a full-blown aortic dissection. And she had three days left as the doctor had said.

And then the offer came.

The billionaire Anthony Hartford. Heir to a corporate empire. Trapped in his own body, in a persistent vegetative state after a plane crash. He was only kept alive by machines and fed by tubes. His mother, Valerie Hartford, had been desperate. Desperate enough to put out an unpublicized offer quietly, through discreet legal channels to find someone who would marry her son, offer him dignity, and maybe, just maybe, give him a reason to fight for life.

Avery sat down beside him, her hand resting on the edge of the bed.

She wasn’t expecting love.

She wasn’t even expecting kindness.

He was unconscious after all.

But as she looked into Anthony’s unfocused eyes, something stirred inside of her.

She had signed away her future…