For money, I married a sleeping prince

I never imagined my Sleeping Prince to be this strikingly handsome. His looks could rival a celebrity’s!

For years, I had been indifferent toward men, but now? I was a changed woman.

It seemed the rumors were true—women really were superficial creatures.

Abigail Winslow, the elegant woman by his bedside, gently held her son’s hand and patted it as she looked at me. Her voice was soft yet tinged with sorrow. “Stella, this is my son, Adrian Winslow. His father passed away when he was young. I prayed he would grow up strong and healthy, but fate had other plans. A car accident robbed him of everything…”

Her voice broke, and her eyes grew glassy as she stared at Adrian’s still form.

A pang of sympathy hit me. Though I was here for my own selfish reasons, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for this family’s tragedy.

“Maybe a miracle will happen, and Adrian will wake up,” I said, trying to offer some comfort.

She shook her head, her lips trembling. “He’s been in treatment for so long. The doctors have confirmed he’s permanently vegetative…” Her voice cracked as fresh tears threatened to fall.

Not knowing how to console her further, I fell silent.

After some time, Abigail composed herself and led me downstairs. “Stella, if you’re willing, you can move in now. Spend six months here, and if you don’t change your mind, we’ll discuss the marriage.”

I blinked. “Move in now?”

“Yes. My business in Crescent City has been delayed for far too long, and I need to leave soon. The butler and housemaids will help you settle in. Treat this house as your own,” she said with a reassuring smile.

I glanced at the lavish mansion surrounding us. Moving in here sounded like a dream come true. This place practically screamed luxury.

“All right,” I agreed, nodding. Her trust in me was unexpected, but I wasn’t going to squander it.

Abigail smiled warmly. “Good. Since you’re here for the money, I’ll need to conduct a thorough background check. You’re okay with that, right?”

What a blunt woman!

“Of course,” I replied, unfazed.

She shook my hand firmly. “You’re honest, Stella, and I like that about you. Over the past two years, I’ve met many potential daughters-in-law, but none of them seemed right. You’re the first who feels… genuine.”

Her words surprised me. Genuine? Me? Still, I smiled and nodded politely.

“I’ll leave everything to you. Just keep Adrian company, talk to him, and let the staff handle the rest. I’ll transfer your allowance to you monthly,” she added.

I couldn’t stop myself from nodding enthusiastically.

That same day, Abigail left for Crescent City, and I officially moved into the villa with my few bags.

The butler and maids were indeed present, but they had little to do in such a well-maintained home. Most of the time, they lingered around idly, leaving me to my own devices.

I chose the room next to Adrian’s. It was bright and sunny, with large windows that overlooked the garden—a perfect spot for relaxing or studying.

After unpacking, I decided to visit Adrian.

When I entered his room, he looked as peaceful as before, his handsome features somehow even more captivating in the soft light.

“Such a waste,” I muttered under my breath. “A prince like you doesn’t belong in this state…”

Taking a seat by his bed, I introduced myself with a grin. “Hi, Mr. Winslow. I’m Stella Greer, your future wife. From today on, I’ll be taking care of you.”

As expected, he didn’t respond.

Later, I returned to my room and pulled out my laptop. Curiosity got the better of me, and I began researching vegetative states.

I learned that there were three types: one where patients had minimal consciousness, another where they could open their eyes subconsciously but remained unaware, and the last—a permanent vegetative state—where no consciousness remained at all.

Unfortunately, Adrian belonged to the third category.

I also checked if recovery was possible. While cases of miraculous recovery existed, they were one-in-a-million at best. Methods like stimulation and massage could help, but the odds were practically zero.

Sighing, I shut my laptop. A one-in-a-million chance might as well be no chance at all.

A faint cough startled me, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Adrian?” I whispered, rushing to his room.

To my disappointment, he was still lying there, motionless and serene.

Scratching my head, I decided it must have been my imagination. There was no way he had coughed.

“Well,” I muttered to myself, “I might as well do my part. Earn the allowance, be a dutiful daughter-in-law, and live comfortably.”

Speaking of which, Abigail had just transferred $100,000 into my account. Seeing the notification lit up my face.

With this kind of money, living in the villa would be a dream come true. I could eat, drink, and enjoy life without a care in the world.

For the first time in a while, I felt truly at ease. Maybe this arrangement wasn’t such a bad idea after all.