After the examination, the attending doctor sighed and said, “Although Mr. Theodore Anderson has regained consciousness, the accident has taken a toll on his body, particularly his legs. They are too damaged, and he will never be able to walk normally again. Physiotherapy wilt take a long time."

Darian's disbelief was palpable.

"You mean he's... he's disabled?"

Ariana frowned, and to her surprise, she glimpsed relief in Darian's expression.

"I'm afraid so," the doctor admitted with deep regret.

"I see. You can leave now." With a flick of his wrist, Darian dismissed the doctors and turned his attention to Theodore, wearing an unusually soft smile.

"Rest well, Theodore. You shouldn't worry about anything else. I'll find the best doctor to treat your legs."

Then, Darian turned to Ariana and said, "You may have to take care of Theodore from now on."

Ariana almost wanted to roll her eyes at Darian. She couldn't help but think that he was making her his son's caregiver.

Theodore sat propped up against the headboard, his eyes filled with an icy indifference that sent shivers down anyone's spine. He seemed aloof and detached from everything around him, his face shrouded with an icy chill.

Finally, he looked up and locked his gaze with Darian‘'s, asking in a frigid tone, "Who is she?"

Ariana was taken aback by Theodore's short question, unsure how to respond to him. Her heart raced, and her mind raced faster.

She didn't even know how to introduce herself to him.

The thought of Theodore being able to leave this arranged marriage at any moment caused Ariana to shiver.

She had to see her plan through; otherwise, it would all be for nothing.

“She is your wife, Ariana Edwards," Darian said.

Theodore's expression turned colder.

“I don't remember having a wife. Where did you find this liar?" he said, disdain dripping from his words.

“I arranged her for you," Darian replied in a tone that was uncharacteristically sharp.

"Everyone knows it."