1. Poor Slave-in-Law

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Astraia Memorial Hospital,

In the ICU ward,

"Step... Step...!"

A man of average height, with a lean and wiry build, anxiously paces back and forth in the hallway.

"Click...!"

Then the ICU door swings open, and a weary-looking doctor emerges.

"Doctor... Doctor, please tell me my sister is okay!" The man asks, his face filled with worry and anxiety.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Veridian, but we can't treat her normally anymore. We need to do a heart transplant as soon as possible. Otherwise, she'll get critically ill," the doctor says, removing his mask and speaking with a serious tone.

Aarav Veridian felt his heart grow heavy upon hearing the doctor's words, and his worry deepened.

The weight of the situation settled on his shoulders, each word from the doctor echoing with the imminent threat to his sister's life.

The sterile hospital hallway became suffocating as Aarav grappled with the harsh reality that a heart transplant was now the only lifeline for his beloved sister.

"How much does the heart transplant cost, Doctor?" Aarav Veridian inquired with a heavy heart.

"It would be 1,000,000 Celestial Crowns. I strongly recommend going ahead with the transplant," the doctor advised, offering encouragement as he patted Aarav's shoulder before departing.

Aarav Veridian pondered, 'Where can I find that much money? I only earn 1,000 Celestial Crowns in a month!' He nervously bit his fingernail, gazing at his sister through the hospital window.

'Hold on, sister. This useless brother of yours will save you, even if I have to swallow my pride,' Aarav thought, his determination mixing with desperation.

He pulled out his worn-out phone.

Once outside the hospital, he found a quiet spot and dialed a number.

"Ring... Ring... Ring...!"

No one answered the first time. He tried again, but still, there was no response.

"What's going on now?" Aarav muttered in frustration. After half an hour of trying, a cold, detached voice finally came from the phone.

"Elara, can you... Can you please lend me a million Celestial Crowns? My sister is in critical condition," Aarav spoke with hesitation, swallowing his pride as he had no other choice but to beg.

Before Aarav could finish speaking, he was abruptly interrupted by a cold snort.

"Hey, borrowing again? How many times is this? Can't you be self-sufficient? How much longer will you continue as a failure? Can't you stop embarrassing me?" Elara Rossi's harsh words wounded Aarav emotionally, hearing her berate him so directly.

"Dududu... Hello... hello, please hold on...!" He tried to speak more, but she hung up after making her point, leaving him frustrated and angry.

"Damn it!"

Aarav cursed loudly, punching the wall and hurting his fist in the process.

He began to reminisce about his past and missed his parents.

Born into a modest family, Aarav's life was characterized by the constant struggle to make ends meet.

His parents had passed away when he was young, leaving him responsible for his younger sister, the only family he had left.

Life went relatively smoothly until two years ago when his sister fell ill. To cover her medical expenses, he took a job at a small clinic called Wellness Center.

After completing his not-so-impressive degree, he continued to work full-time at the clinic, struggling to pay his sister's medical bills.

One day, a fellow university classmate approached him. While they weren't acquainted, her reputation as the most attractive person on campus made her recognizable.

She proposed a marriage arrangement to him, offering to help get his sister admitted to the city's best hospital in exchange for him marrying into her family.

At the time, he didn't understand her motives, and he didn't really care, as his priority was getting his sister treated urgently.

However, it was only after marrying into her family and moving into their mansion that he began to realize the reason behind her offer.

Her father, Antonio Rossi, had a brief will that stated she could only pursue her dreams and receive investments from the family if she got married.

Elara married him and upheld her father's rule, but her family wasn't pleased with her decision to marry a poor pleb.

As a result, Aarav was treated like a slave within their family. He wasn't even allowed to come close to his wife and had to sleep on the cold floor.

For two years, he toiled like less than a servant and endured treatment worse than a stray dog.

His status was no higher than that of a worthless person in their eyes.

He bore every humiliation and curse hurled at him, locking it away in his heart for the sake of his sister.

Aarav felt a deep sense of helplessness and anger about his situation, and resentment brewed within him for the Rossi family's mistreatment.

Yet, he remained powerless to confront them because his sister's treatment was being funded by his wife, Elara Rossi.

"Damn it... Damn it... Fuck...," Aarav muttered, dropping to his knees as tears streamed down his face.

He still remembered his wife, Elara's words, her voice echoing in his mind, replaying her humiliating words over and over—a relentless reminder of his status in her family.

"You're nothing but a burden. I married you out of pity, and you still can't stand on your own. Pathetic."

Aarav felt the weight of his own helplessness and the bitter taste of humiliation, trapped in a marriage where he was merely a tool for Elara's convenience.

"No....no...no, I can't give up. There's one more person I can ask for help," he told himself, wiping his eyes while recalling another person he could turn to for help.

He stood up, covering several miles in a hurry until he reached a specific location—a jewelry store.

"Huff... huff..." Aarav panted, trying to catch his breath.

The store was crowded with people as usual, and Aarav made his way to the reception desk.

"Hello, could you tell me where I can find your boss, Ms. Isla DeVere?" he asked, looking quite disheveled with sweat still dripping from his forehead, despite the store's air conditioning.

"Who are you, sir?" The receptionist asked, sounding a bit annoyed and giving him a disgusted look at his appearance.

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