The atmosphere in the Pratama family's grand house felt oppressive. In the high-ceilinged living room, with its magnificent crystal chandelier, the aroma of jasmine tea mingled with a thick tension.

Mr. and Mrs. Pratama sat in the main chairs, their faces tense but hopeful. Before them lay a gold-plated invitation with the Argantara family crest.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Asyanti," Hasna Pratama said softly but firmly. "The Argantara family is not just anyone. A billion rupiah dowry, and our name will rise in elite circles. You must accept this proposal."

Asyanti, sitting across from them, stared at her mother in disbelief. Her beautiful face paled, and the hand holding the teacup trembled slightly.

"Mom... you want to marry me off to that man?" Her voice rose, almost trembling with anger. "To the man who is said to be... impotent?"

A small laugh escaped her pink lips. A bitter laugh.

"What for, Mom? To be a laughingstock? Everyone knows that gossip! He's disabled! How can Mom bear to sell her own child just for money?"

Mr. Pratama sighed heavily.

"Watch your mouth, Asyanti! You speak as if we are throwing you into the abyss. This is an opportunity! Our name will be recorded on the Argantara family's marriage certificate, do you know what that means?"

"It means, I'm marrying a man who can't even touch me!" Asyanti snapped.

Her tears flowed freely, not from sadness but from anger.

"I refuse, Dad! Even if the world offered me a billion, I wouldn't want to spend my life with a man who can't even satisfy his wife!"

The atmosphere froze, only the ticking of the grandfather clock could be heard.

In the corner of the room, Arum Mustika Ratu stood silently. She wore a simple light blue dress, her hair tied in a low ponytail. Her gaze was empty, but her ears caught every word that came out of the mouths of the family that raised her.

Asyanti stood up, looked at Arum from head to toe, then scoffed.

"If they need a bride so badly, just tell Arum! She'd be willing, right, Mom? She has no future, no one. Besides, the money can pay for all the expenses this family has spent raising her."

Those words pierced Arum's chest like daggers. However, no one defended her. Even Mr. and Mrs. Pratama were silent, as if those words made sense.

"That's right," Hasna finally said, her voice flat. "If Asyanti refuses, then Arum can replace her. Besides, Oma Hartati didn't ask for a noblewoman, just a girl who is willing to marry Mr. Reghan Argantara."

The living room fell silent again. All eyes were now on Arum. The girl took a deep breath, bowed her head for a moment, then slowly raised her face, her gaze sharp, but calm.

"Okay," she said softly, but clearly.

"I am willing to marry Reghan Argantara."

"On one condition," she continued firmly. "After I get married, all the debts of gratitude that the Pratama family has given me... are paid off. I don't want to be called a freeloader, I don't want to be reminded that I am nobody anymore, after this, I am free."

Her words made the room seem to stop breathing. Mr. Pratama stared at her with an incredulous expression, while Asyanti smiled cynically.

"Look, Dad, Mom," Asyanti mocked, crossing her arms. "She's even cheaper than I thought. Selling herself for money and freedom."

Arum looked at her straight, without tears. "You're right, Asyanti. But at least, I know what I'm choosing. I'm selling myself... to be free from your pity."

After that, silence filled the room again. No one dared to speak, until finally Mr. Pratama nodded slightly.

"Alright, if that's your decision, Arum. I'll contact the Argantara side. You will represent this family."

Arum only bowed her head. Instantly, her heart felt empty. She didn't know if her decision was right. But what was clear, from that moment on her life was no longer her own.

That night, when everyone was asleep, Arum stood on her small balcony. The night wind caressed her hair, carrying the scent of frangipani flowers from the backyard. She looked at the sky, trying to convince herself.

"This isn't about love," she murmured softly. "This is about freedom."

And far away, in the magnificent Argantara family house, a man sat in a wheelchair with a cold gaze staring at an old photo of him with Alena.

"Women come only for money," he hissed softly, full of hatred. His gaze was sharp, dark, leaving almost no hope.

The next day.

The Pratama family's house was packed. Luxury cars lined the front yard, and the sound of guests rustled among the aroma of jasmine flowers that decorated the main room. In the middle of the room stood a long table, full of offerings, gold jewelry, fine batik cloth, and a black suitcase containing one billion rupiah in cash. All eyes were on the suitcase, not on the bride.

"Everything is according to Oma Hartati's request," said one of the Argantara family's envoys in a stiff tone. "One billion rupiah in cash, complete with accompanying jewelry."

Mr. Pratama smiled contentedly as well as Hasna, looking busy greeting the guests with a fabricated happy face. Meanwhile, in the corner of the room, Arum sat silently wearing a simple ivory white dress, without excessive makeup. Her face was pale, her hands trembled as she held the bouquet of white roses prepared for the procession.

She still couldn't believe that it was all real that she would get married today. The sound of a car engine stopped in front of the house. The sound of hurried footsteps from outside, then small whispers were heard among the guests.

"He's coming... the Argantara heir..."

"Is it true that he's paralyzed?"

"I heard he can't stand anymore since the accident... and they say he's... impotent. It's a pity that Arum's life is spent just taking care of that man,"

The main door slowly opened. Two men in black suits entered first, followed by an old woman with a firm face, Oma Hartati. Behind them, a handsome man with a strong jaw, sharp eyes, and a sturdy body despite sitting in a wheelchair was pushed in slowly, he was Reghan Argantara.

Time seemed to stop. The atmosphere in the room that was full of whispers was now completely silent. All eyes were on him, the man who was once admired, then brought down by gossip, now present with a cold gaze that pierced the air. That gaze finally stopped at Arum. For a moment, his gaze seemed to trace the girl's face, innocent, calm, but behind her eyes there was something that made Reghan's chest tighten and murmur softly.

'So... this is the woman who sold herself for money,' he muttered coldly in his heart.

Oma Hartati looked at both of them alternately, then smiled gently. "From today on, you, Reghan, are not alone anymore. And you, Arum, will become my grandson's legal wife. Your marriage has been registered in the civil registry. Everything is official."

Arum bowed her head, her voice barely audible. "Thank you, Madam."

But when her gaze met Reghan's eyes, her heart trembled, not because of love, but because the man's gaze felt sharp, cold, even piercing. As if her presence was an insult.

Reghan looked at Arum without a smile.

"So, you're the woman who accepted a billion to marry me?" he said flatly, but every word was like a whip, everyone in the room was startled.

Arum swallowed, trying to be strong.

"Yes," she answered softly, but firmly. "Because in this way, I can repay my debt of gratitude to the family that raised me."

The corner of Reghan's lips tightened, forming a cynical smile.

"Honest, at least I know, my wife is not the type of woman who pretends to love."

Oma Hartati looked at her grandson with disappointment.

"Reghan!" she reprimanded sharply. But the man didn't turn around, he only diverted his gaze from Arum, as if the girl's face was not worthy of being looked at any longer. The short ceremony began, the marriage vows were read in front of the penghulu and the witnesses. Everything happened quickly without holding hands, without smiles, without warm gazes like brides in general.

That afternoon, the party ended.

The guests began to leave, leaving the room that now only contained the sound of clinking glasses and soft footsteps. Arum stood in the doorway, staring at the black car that was ready to take her to the Argantara family's house her new home, her husband's home that didn't want her.

Before getting into the car, Oma Hartati held her hand gently.

"Don't be afraid, dear. Reghan is indeed tough, but his heart is not as bad as it seems."

Arum only smiled faintly. "I'm not afraid, Madam. I just don't know... how to be a wife to a man who doesn't want me."

Oma was silent, and from inside the car, Reghan only glanced through the glass, cold, stiff, as if the world around him was meaningless.

"Get in! Or I'll leave you," that was another cold saying that Arum heard, she hurriedly got in after the car door was opened by the driver.

The sky began to dim as the black car carrying Arum stopped in the magnificent courtyard of the Argantara family residence. The tall iron gate, coated in gold carvings, slowly opened, revealing a vast garden with a fountain in the center, and a colonial-style house standing firmly at the end of the cobbled path.

Arum stared at it from behind the window, her breath catching in her throat. The house was beautiful, but for some reason, the atmosphere around it felt cold, silent, and dangerous, like a place where smiles could turn into poison in an instant. When the car door opened, the damp evening air hit her face. She set foot on the courtyard for the first time as Mrs. Argantara. But her steps felt heavy.

Oma Hartati came out first, greeted respectfully by the maids and housekeepers who lined up neatly in front of the door. Then, in the doorway, stood four people: Mr. Argantara, Maya, Elion, and a stunning woman in a red dress, Alena.

Arum looked at them one by one. Mr. Argantara looked dashing despite his graying hair, his aura full of authority and power. Beside him stood Maya, a beautiful woman with a smile that looked sweet on her face, but cold in her eyes. And slightly behind them, a tall, handsome young man with a confident smile. Elion Argantara, Reghan's half-brother.

While the woman beside Elion, with her elegant red dress and slippery, curious gaze, was Alena. Arum didn't know who she was, but from the first time she looked into Alena's eyes, her heart trembled strangely. The woman looked at her like someone who held a great secret behind her friendly smile.

"Welcome to the Argantara family home, young lady," Maya greeted softly. Her smile was charming, but for some reason, Arum felt a chill run from her fingertips to the nape of her neck.

"Thank you, Madam," Arum replied quietly, bowing politely.

Oma Hartati smiled with satisfaction. "From now on, Arum lives here. You all know that their marriage is legal in the eyes of the law and religion."

Mr. Argantara nodded. "I heard it. May your marriage bring peace to this house."

His tone was heavy, deep, and contained something difficult to guess, whether it was a blessing, or just formalities.

Arum looked at the man politely. "Thank you, Sir."

Beside her, Reghan was still sitting in his wheelchair, his face remaining expressionless, only occasionally looking at the faces that were staring at him. His gaze paused for a moment on Alena and Elion. The atmosphere immediately tensed, their eyes meeting between Reghan and Alena.

There was something in the air that made Arum bite her lower lip unconsciously. She didn't know what the relationship was between them, but clearly, that look was not an ordinary look.

Maya quickly broke the silence with her soft laughter. "Come on, let's go inside first. Dinner has been prepared." She stepped forward, inviting them in.

Arum walked slowly behind Oma, while two servants pushed Reghan's wheelchair. Every step felt heavy. The gazes of the people in the room were like knives slowly peeling her skin.

At the large dining table, the atmosphere seemed warm on the surface, the candles burning softly, the dishes arranged neatly, everything looked luxurious and perfect. But beneath it all, Arum could feel something pressing, like air holding its breath.

Mr. Argantara sat at the head of the table, leading the feast. On the right side, Maya sat gracefully, while Elion and Alena sat side by side on the left. Reghan and Arum were placed directly opposite them.

"How was your trip?" Maya asked with a fake smile that was too sweet. "You must be tired, Arum. This house is big, but don't worry. All the servants are ready to help you."

"Thank you, Madam," Arum replied politely.

Elion leaned back in his chair, then glanced at Arum with a teasing smile. "You're lucky, Miss. Not many women can sit here as the young Mrs. Argantara."

His tone was smooth, but Reghan's eyes sharpened sharply, piercing Elion in silence. Alena chimed in softly, "That's right, many women would be jealous of a position like yours."

She looked deeply at Arum, then casually grasped Elion's hand on the table.

"Including women who once looked forward to that seat."

Arum frowned slightly, she didn't understand. Meanwhile, Reghan turned his face away, his jaw tightening, his eyes freezing as he stared at the plate.

Oma Hartati, who was watching everything, glared at Alena, then said coldly, "Eat, no need for excessive formalities."

The conversation subsided, leaving only the clinking of spoons and knives against the plates. Arum tried to swallow her food, but it felt like sand. She realized, this magnificent house was not a home, but an arena. Every smile at that table felt like a trap.

That night, after the feast ended, Oma Hartati took Arum's hand.

"Child, don't let their glances or words bring you down. In this house, everyone is good at hiding behind a mask."

Arum looked at the old face, her voice soft, "I know, Oma. But what if that mask is the only thing that makes them seem human?"

Oma was silent, while across the hallway, Reghan watched his wife's retreating back, his eyes dim and cold but deep.

The Argantara family's big house looked luxurious on the outside, but inside, every love held a grudge, and every smile hid a wound.

Arum, turning after speaking with Oma Hartati, found Reghan in the hallway of the house in the same place he had been standing.

"I've told the servants to prepare separate rooms," Reghan's voice sounded soft but firm. "You sleep in the room next door."

Arum bowed politely. "Okay."

She wanted to say something – whether to thank him, or just ask how he was, but the voice seemed to be swallowed by the silence. Reghan had already turned his wheelchair, heading towards the master bedroom without looking back. Arum stood there for quite a while.

The rain outside was getting heavier, hitting the roof of the house and sending gentle echoes throughout the room.

That night, Arum stayed in her new room, a spacious room with a balcony overlooking the back garden. She opened the window, letting in the night wind and the scent of rain. Her eyes stared blankly at the trees swaying gently.

On the other side of the wall, Reghan sat in his wheelchair in front of his own room's window. His hand gripped a glass of drink, his eyes staring out, watching the heavy rain. Shadows of the past danced in his mind, Alena's gaze, her soft laughter, the night he promised to marry her, and the morning when everything was destroyed by the accident that took not only his legs, but also his faith in love.

However, he knew Arum was not at fault. But what angered him was the fact that the girl married him for money, not for love, not because she cared. And that was enough for him to reject all forms of tenderness.

There was a soft knock on his bedroom door.

"Mr. Reghan..." the soft voice sounded from behind the door. "I just wanted to make sure, does Mr. want to sleep yet?"

There was no answer, Reghan gripped his glass tightly until it almost cracked.

"If Mr. needs something, I'm in the room next door."

Still silent, a few seconds later, Reghan finally spoke without turning, his voice flat and cold, when he heard the sound of the door opening slowly.

"I don't need anything from you. And from tonight, never enter my room without permission."

The voice slapped harder than a blow. Arum bowed her head, clutching her nightgown tightly.

"Okay, Sir."

As her footsteps faded away, Reghan closed his eyes. He regretted it, but didn't want to regret it. Because pity can turn into love, and love is something he buried a long time ago.

The night wore on. Arum was still awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the ring on her finger. A ring that looked shiny but felt empty. She didn't cry, she just remained silent, like a stone that had accepted its fate.

Meanwhile, from the room next door, the sound of Reghan's wheelchair wheels could be heard softly, he was not asleep, just staring at an old photo in his hand, a photo of a woman smiling by a lake.

"Love died with you, Alena," Reghan murmured. In that magnificent house, two souls were trapped in a loveless marriage. One trying to survive with a resigned heart, the other surviving with wounds that refused to heal.

Sunlight slipped gently through the gaps in the room's curtains. Arum woke up early, still feeling foreign in the large house. She glanced at the clock on the dressing table, then quickly put on simple clothes and tidied her hair. Her first day as a wife in the Argantara family was starting, and for some reason, her heart was beating a little faster than usual.

As she was about to leave the room, her steps faltered. A loud noise came from the next room, Reghan's room.

"Damn it! Shit!" The shout was accompanied by the sound of something falling. Arum panicked instantly, pressing her ear to the door. There was the sound of water flowing from the bathroom, then another heavy thud, followed by a stifled groan as if someone was in pain.

Without thinking, Arum turned the doorknob.

"Tuan Reghan?" (Mr. Reghan?)

There was no answer to Arum's call, she swallowed hard, then opened the door wider and entered. The sound of water became clearer, mixed with heavy breathing. From the bathroom, whose door was slightly open, Reghan's voice was heard again, full of frustration and anger.

"I'll do it myself!"

Arum held her breath, something in his voice sounded not just angry, but also hurt. She finally strode forward, opening the bathroom door without knocking.

Her first glimpse immediately silenced her. Reghan was lying face down on the wet marble floor, without a single thread on his body. The shower was still on, dripping artificial rain all over his back, which was covered in old scars. One of his hands was shaking as he tried to support his body, but it was weak.

"Get out!" he snapped hoarsely and sharply when he saw Arum standing in the bathroom doorway, trying to straighten himself but failing.

Water fell, wetting his black hair, covering part of his tense and angry face.

Arum stared at him for a moment, her heart pounding, but not because of embarrassment, only out of pity. She stepped in, took a large towel hanging nearby, then squatted beside Reghan.

"I said get out!" his voice grew louder, almost trembling with wounded ego. But Arum remained silent, carefully wrapping the towel around Reghan's body, then taking a deep breath. "Tuan will get cold if you stay like this, I'm just helping."

Reghan glared at her with sharp, fiery eyes, but his body was unable to resist as Arum helped him slowly into the wheelchair parked near the door. Every small touch from Arum's hand felt like a slap to his pride.

"Don't touch me again," he hissed softly but bitingly. "I don't need your pity. I know you're here only for the money."

Arum lowered her head, her lips trembling slightly, but she still helped Reghan put on his bathrobe with steady hands.

"If I'm here for the money," she said softly, "let that money work today to help Tuan stand."

Reghan was silent for a moment, then brushed Arum's hand away roughly.

"Get out!"

Arum looked at him for a moment - there was anger, there was sadness, but more than that, there was a deep exhaustion. She stood up slowly, bowing politely. "Yes, Tuan."

Her steps moved away, leaving the scent of soap and water still dripping on the floor.

When the door closed, Reghan stared at his reflection in the mirror, his right hand clenched tightly. Tears that shouldn't have fallen, dripped without him realizing it.

"Weak," he muttered bitterly. "Even to hate, I still need that woman's help."

Meanwhile, outside, Arum stood holding the doorknob, holding her breath. Her heart throbbed strangely, not because of fear, but because of pity for someone who so stubbornly refused tenderness, when all he needed most was to be understood.

Reghan stared blankly at the large mirror in his room. His clothes were still half open, water from his hair dripping onto his shoulders, down his tensed neck. His breathing had not stabilized between holding back anger and shame. All his pride seemed to crumble when his body fell on the marble floor earlier, unable to stand without a woman's help.

"Disgusting..." he hissed softly, his hands clenching in his lap, staring at his own face reflection that looked foreign.

"Even to stand I need to be pitied."

He turned his wheelchair slowly, facing the large window that was slightly open. Last night's rain still left dew on the leaves of the back garden. The air felt humid, quiet. He looked out, trying to calm down. However, the frustration in his chest did not subside.

Suddenly, there was a gentle knock on the door.

Reghan didn't answer. The door opened slowly, revealing Arum who entered with cautious steps while carrying a steaming cup of tea. The scent of fresh ginger spread in the air. Arum approached without saying much, placing the cup on the bedside table next to Reghan's chair.

"Ginger tea," she said softly, her voice gentle but sounded steady.

"After being in cold water for too long, Tuan can catch a cold. Drink it while it's warm."

Reghan turned slowly, looking at the woman with a sharp gaze.

"I don't need your attention."

Arum smiled faintly, not offended. "I don't care whether Tuan needs it or not. I just don't want Oma to be angry if Tuan gets sick."

That sentence made Reghan snort softly, then turn his face away.

"Go away," he said flatly. "I can take care of myself."

But a moment later, something made Reghan fall silent. Arum had just bent down to take clean clothes from a small cupboard and unconsciously stood so close to him. Arum's body scent - a mixture of floral soap and the warmth of clean fabric - smelled faintly in the air, making Reghan's breath catch.

His body tensed, there was a strange sensation inside him, something that for a year he believed had died since the accident, since the doctor said the word he hated the most, which was impotent.

His eyes stared blankly at the floor, his heart beating a little faster than usual. No, he didn't even refuse to feel it. He only refused to believe that his body could still react to anyone, especially to a woman he married for money.

"I said go," he said again, this time softer but trembling. Arum looked at him for a moment, then patiently took a neatly folded shirt and helped Reghan put it on. Her movements were calm, full of care. Every time her fingers touched Reghan's skin, the man held his breath between anger and something difficult to admit. Once the last button was fastened, there was a knock on the door.

"Excuse me, Tuan Reghan," the servant's voice was heard from outside.

"Tuan's personal doctor has arrived for a routine checkup."

Arum turned towards the door, then answered calmly, "Please wait a moment, we're almost done."

"Yes, Nyonya," (Madam) the servant answered politely.

After the sound of footsteps faded away, Arum looked at Reghan.

"Tuan should get checked soon. The doctor must have been waiting since morning."

Reghan sighed deeply. "You interfere too much."

Arum lowered her head slightly, her voice almost a whisper.

"I'm just doing what a wife should do."

Reghan was silent, not replying. Only the sound of the clock ticking on the wall was heard, ticking softly between them.

A few seconds later, Arum walked towards the door, intending to go out and call the servant to invite the doctor in. But before she had a chance to open the door, Reghan's voice broke the silence behind her flatly, but this time calmer,

"Leave the tea."

Arum looked at him for a moment, then nodded slightly. "Yes, Tuan."

When the door closed, Reghan stared at the steaming cup. His hand reached out slowly, gripping the handle stiffly. He stared at the warm liquid inside, and for the first time in a long time, his body stopped shaking. Whether it was because of the tea, or because of the presence of a woman he didn't want but was secretly starting to disturb his heart.

'If this reacts to Arum, maybe it will react to other people too,' Reghan thought, staring at the door that was now slowly opening, the doctor entered with a stiff smile, greeting Reghan softly.