The last thing Ethan King remembered was the screech of tires and the sudden, bone-jarring impact that flipped his car over like a child's toy. A chill crept into his body as blood pooled beneath him, and darkness claimed him in the blink of an eye.
When he opened his eyes, he wasn't greeted by hospital monitors or the white ceiling of an emergency room. Instead, he found himself lying on a grand, four-poster bed draped in velvet curtains. Chandeliers hung above, casting warm light over the ornate golden furnishings of the room.
"What the—?" Ethan muttered, his voice hoarse and unfamiliar.
He pushed himself up, groaning as a dull ache spread through his head. That was when he noticed his reflection in the full-length mirror across the room. The man staring back at him had sharp features, dark hair neatly styled, and striking blue eyes—eyes that he didn't recognize as his own. He touched his face, his fingers tracing a strong jawline that didn't belong to the Ethan King he remembered.
Panic rose in his chest. Was this a dream? Was he dead? Before he could fully process the thought, a mechanical, feminine voice echoed in his mind.
"Welcome, Host, to the Villainess Wife Pampering System."
Ethan froze. Villainess Wife Pampering System?
"What the hell is going on?" he demanded, his voice rising.
"You have been transmigrated into the body of Duke Ethan Delacroix, a character in the novel The Forsaken Love. Your mission is to pamper and protect your wife, Amara Delacroix, labeled as the villainess of the story. Tasks will be assigned to you, and rewards will be given based on completion. Failure to improve your wife's happiness will result in...termination."
"Termination?!" Ethan shouted, his pulse quickening.
The voice ignored his outburst.
"Initial task: Attend your wedding to Amara Delacroix and hold her hand during the ceremony. Reward: 100 points and the skill Gentle Smile. Penalty for failure: Immediate deduction of 50 points."
Ethan's mind raced. The Forsaken Love—he had read that book. It was a tragic romance where the male protagonist, Alexander Crestwood, fell in love with Cecilia Whitmore, a gentle and kind heroine. The villainess, Amara, was a cold, scheming noblewoman who stood in their way, only to be discarded and humiliated by the end.
And now, he was Duke Ethan Delacroix, the cruel, indifferent husband who had contributed to Amara's downfall.
"This has to be a joke," he muttered, pinching himself. The sharp sting confirmed it was not.
Just then, the door creaked open, and an elderly butler stepped inside. His sharp eyes softened as he regarded Ethan.
"Your Grace, the wedding is in an hour. Lady Amara is waiting."
Ethan's heart sank. It's happening today?
He nodded stiffly, trying to mask his confusion. "Of course. I'll prepare immediately."
The wedding hall was an opulent display of wealth and power. Nobles dressed in their finest sat in rows, their conversations hushed but their disdain clear. Ethan could feel their judgmental gazes as he walked toward the altar. His bride stood at the end, her figure stiff and her head held high, though he could sense the tension in her posture.
Amara Delacroix was beautiful—stunning, even. Her dark hair was pinned elegantly, her emerald-green eyes sharp and cold. But behind her frosty exterior, Ethan noticed the faintest flicker of vulnerability.
She's bracing herself for the worst, he realized.
As he approached, the mechanical voice chimed in his mind.
"Task Reminder: Hold your wife's hand during the ceremony and reassure her of your presence."
Ethan sighed inwardly. Fine. Let's get this over with.
He reached out as they stood side by side at the altar. Amara flinched almost imperceptibly as his fingers brushed hers. For a moment, she glanced at him, her eyes wary and questioning.
"Relax," Ethan said softly, offering her a reassuring smile. "I'm here."
Her eyes widened in surprise, but she said nothing, her mask of indifference slipping back into place. Yet, he noticed her hand trembling slightly less in his.
The ceremony passed in a blur, and before Ethan knew it, they were pronounced husband and wife. The crowd clapped politely, though he could feel the lack of enthusiasm. They weren't here to celebrate; they were here to gawk at the infamous villainess and her equally infamous husband.
"Task Completed: 100 points awarded. Skill Gentle Smile unlocked. Amara's happiness increased by 5%. Trust in you increased by 2%."
The voice echoed in his mind as the ceremony concluded. Ethan felt an odd sense of satisfaction.
So this is how it works. Alright, System, let's see where this goes.
As they exited the hall, Amara leaned closer to him, her voice low. "You don't have to pretend, Your Grace. I know this is just for show."
Ethan blinked, taken aback by her words. Her tone was bitter, resigned, as if she had already accepted her place as the villain in everyone's eyes.
He met her gaze and said firmly, "Amara, I'm not pretending."
Her lips parted in surprise, but she quickly turned away, hiding her reaction.
Ethan smirked to himself. If this was his life now, he would do things differently. The world may see Amara as a villainess, but as far as he was concerned, she was his wife. And he wasn't about to let anyone, including the story itself, ruin her.
Let the pampering begin.
End of Chapter 1