Episode 1

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.

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