The next morning, Ethan slowly opened his eyes and yawned, stretching his stiff limbs on the narrow sofa. His back ached slightly, but he didn't regret his choice.
He had willingly given up the massive, luxurious bed to let the male lead sleep alone. Why? Simple.
Although Damien was madly in love with the original protagonist Jamie, Ethan couldn't shake the uneasiness. This man—known in the plot for being unpredictable and possessive—might not take kindly to a stranger suddenly acting close. Worse, what if his feelings got confused in the dark?
He wasn't about to risk becoming collateral damage to some misplaced desire.
Also… let's not forget what the original book said: even while being crippled, Damien was a beast in bed. A wild stallion. A relentless one.
Yeah, no thanks.
"Morning, Host! Did you sleep well?" Xixi's cheerful voice rang out the moment Ethan sat up. The glowing bunny system floated beside him, wings flapping energetically like a very enthusiastic mosquito.
"Can you not? It's barely morning!" Ethan groaned, rubbing his temples as Xixi's high-pitched chirping echoed in his head.
Of all the companions the heavenly goddesses could've assigned him, why did it have to be a hyperactive, squeaky rabbit system with no off switch?
"Please tell me there's a mute function," he muttered under his breath.
System Xixi has been muted.
Xixi's mouth kept moving rapidly, still bouncing midair with wild gestures, but no sound came out. It looked around in confusion, then touched its mouth as if checking whether it was still there.
When that didn't work, it started hopping in place furiously, shaking its tiny fists and pointing accusingly at Ethan like it was throwing a tantrum—probably hurling all sorts of curses at him.
But without sound, it was like watching a dramatic pantomime.
With a final huff, Xixi gave Ethan one last exaggerated glare and vanished into a puff of sparkles.
Ethan sighed in relief and leaned back against the sofa cushions. "Finally… peace and quiet."
He glanced over at the bed. It was neatly made, not a single crease on the sheets, as if no one had slept there at all.
Huh? Where did Damien go?
Confused, Ethan rubbed his eyes and got up from the sofa with a stretch. After a quick shower, he opened the closet in search of clothes—and blinked.
On one side hung formal, oversized suits—clearly Damien's. But the other side...
Ethan's jaw dropped.
"…Are these supposed to be mine?"
Pretty blouses, soft pastels, ribbons, and more pink than he'd seen in his entire life.
"Seriously? They want me to dress like this?" he muttered, horrified, holding up a frilly cream-colored shirt that looked like it belonged in a doll shop.
After sifting through the selection, he managed to find something half-decent—a loose-fitting beige sweater and dark trousers that didn't scream *'cute and dainty.'*
With a sigh of surrender, he got dressed. Surprisingly, the clothes fit like a glove, even around his currently rounded belly.
"I need to go shopping. Desperately," Ethan made a mental note as he headed downstairs.
The dining room was already lively.
Damien was there, dressed sharply in a tailored suit, seated at the head of the table. The rest of the family sat around him, chatting lightly completely ignoring his presence like he didn't exist.
Ethan walked in, greeted everyone with a polite smile, and took a seat beside Damien.
Ethan picked up his spoon and carefully placed food onto Damien's plate, his tone suddenly honeyed. "Hubby, you need to eat more~"
He flashed a foolishly sweet smile.
Damien paused, staring at the plate like it had just been contaminated. His brows twitched in irritation as he looked at Ethan.
This damn germaphobic freak! He never touched food unless it was served by his Jamie.
Ethan's smile strained at the edges.
He gave Damien a discreet look that clearly said, "Just play along."
Damien's jaw clenched, his sharp eyes locked with Ethan's. For a second, it felt like a showdown. But eventually, he picked up his chopsticks and began to eat, albeit reluctantly.
Across the table, a girl scoffed loudly. "Ugh, why do we have to witness this disgusting display so early?" she said dramatically, flipping her hair. It was Damien's stepsister, and she didn't bother to hide her distaste.
"Truly... how the mighty has fallen," her mother added with fake sympathy, covering her smirking lips with a napkin.
Ethan nearly rolled his eyes. He heard them loud and clear—but chose to ignore it.
Damien didn't even flinch. As if their words didn't exist, he kept eating in cold silence.
After breakfast, Damien was ready to leave but Ethan grabbed the edge of his sleeve and blinked up at him, voice deliberately soft and childish. "Take me with you~ I wanna go outside and play."
Play? Not exactly. There was no way he was staying in this house surrounded by toxic in-laws plotting Damien's downfall. If he wanted to protect the male lead and complete his mission, he needed to stick close.
Despite being confined to a wheelchair, Damien still held the title of CEO of Luciano Corporation. He wasn't just chosen out of pity—among all the men in the family, he was the most brilliant. Sharp, disciplined, and efficient, Damien had once led the company to great heights, becoming the pride of the Luciano name.
Even after the accident that changed everything, the chairman—the old patriarch—refused to replace him.
"The company needs a brain, not legs," he had said coldly, forcing Damien back into the position.
From the outside, it looked like Damien still ruled the empire. The company remained prosperous under his name. But behind the scenes, things were different.
The truth? Damien was nothing more than a puppet now.
Stripped of real authority, he merely signed documents handed to him, carried out decisions made by others, and endured the whispers in the boardroom. The chairman had tightened his grip, using Damien's reputation as a mask while pulling all the strings himself.
But the rest of the family didn't know that.
To them, Damien was still a threat. The golden grandson. The CEO. The one who still stood at the top despite his "fall."
Jealousy brewed behind fake smiles. Resentment lingered in every polite word. And the vultures? They were just waiting for him to finally fall—for real this time.
Damien paused, staring at the hand clinging to his sleeve like a barnacle. His brows furrowed slightly, but he didn't shake him off.
"Tch! The company isn't a damn playground!" Damien's uncle snapped, glaring at Ethan with disdain. "You stay here and stop clinging to him like a pest."
Startled by the sudden bark, Ethan flinched on cue, then instinctively clung tighter to Damien's arm like a scared little rabbit.
The old chairman, who had been silently observing from the head of the table, finally spoke. "Let him go. Leaving the house for a while might be good for the unborn child."
His calm voice carried weight, silencing the table.
Ethan's eyes lit up instantly. He turned to the old man with a bright, overly innocent grin. "Thank you, Grandpa!"
The chairman gave a small nod.
The moment they stepped out of the house and the gates closed behind them, Ethan's sweet, innocent smile vanished like a passing breeze.
In its place was a sly smirk, eyes gleaming with hidden purpose.
He glanced sideways at Damien, who was already wheeling himself toward the car in silence, cold and unreadable as ever.
Under his breath, Ethan whispered with quiet amusement, "Fallen hero… are you ready to rise again?"