Her father had fallen into a gambling addiction and sunk into a crushing debt of five million dollars.

And the man he owed?

None other than Sebastian “Bash” Whitmore.

Sebastian Whitmore was known across the country not only for his immense wealth, but for his terrifying appearance.

He weighed nearly 300 pounds.
Morbidly obese, constantly sweating, his face marked with deep scars, and always confined to a motorized wheelchair because—according to rumors—his weight made it impossible for him to walk.

Behind his back, people cruelly called him “The Billionaire Beast.”

THE DEAL

One night, Sebastian Whitmore’s men arrived at Emily Carter’s home.

“Pay the debt—or go to prison,” they told her father coldly.

“We don’t have the money!” her father cried.
“Then… then take my daughter! Emily! She’s young, beautiful, hardworking! Let her marry you, Mr. Whitmore—take her in exchange for my debt!”

Emily’s eyes widened in terror.

“Dad?! Are you selling me?!”

But Emily had no choice.

To save her father’s life, she agreed to marry the man everyone feared.

THE WEDDING

On the wedding day, the guests couldn’t stop whispering.

Emily stood radiant in her wedding gown—graceful and composed—beside Sebastian Whitmore, who was drenched in sweat, struggling to breathe, a visible food stain on his tuxedo.

“Poor girl,” someone murmured.
“She’s only doing it for the money.”
“She must be disgusted at the thought of sharing a bed with him.”

Emily heard every word.

But she lifted her chin with dignity.

She took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the sweat from Sebastian’s forehead.

“Are you alright, Mr. Whitmore?” she asked softly.
“Would you like some water?”

Sebastian froze.

He had expected disgust—
revulsion—
hatred.

Instead, he saw compassion.

Care.

“Water,” he whispered.

Throughout the ceremony, Emily stayed by his side.
When it was time for photos, she didn’t step away.
She held his hand—large, rough, trembling.

THE TEST

After the wedding, they were taken to Sebastian Whitmore’s mansion.

“You’ll sleep on the sofa,” Sebastian ordered inside the bedroom.
“I’m too big—you won’t be comfortable in the bed. And one more thing…

Clean my feet before I sleep. And feed me.”

Sebastian was testing her.

He acted lazy.
Messy.
Rude.
Cruel.

“This food is disgusting!” he shouted, throwing his plate.
“You’re too slow! Wipe my back!”

For three months, Emily became his caretaker.

And yet—she never complained.