I, Blake Sterling, was once one of New York's most sought-after rising architects. Women threw themselves at me.

But after I got married, I developed a bizarre and agonizing condition: a severe contact allergy to my own wife, Sienna Caldwell.

Every moment of intimacy, even the brush of her fingertips against the back of my hand, would cause my body to break out in burning rashes, leaving me gasping for air. More than once, I was on the brink of anaphylactic shock.

Despite this, my obsession with having a complete family was stronger than my fear. So one night, I gambled with my life and shared a bed with her.

Strangely, that night, the allergy miraculously didn't flare up.

Soon, Sienna was pregnant. Staring at the pregnancy test, I naively believed that fate had finally smiled on me, that my life was getting back on track.

However, when she was five months pregnant, an accidental embrace sent me into another severe allergic reaction, and I was rushed to the Caldwell Medical Center.

I woke up in a VIP room but couldn't find Sienna anywhere. Just as I was struggling to get out of bed, I heard her and her friends whispering at the end of the hallway:

"God, look at him. Puffed up and red like a boiled lobster, can't even breathe. It's pathetic."

Through the crack in the door, I saw Sienna swirling the vial she had always claimed was a desensitization serum specially made for me. Her voice was dripping with disdain: "I designed this formula myself. I made sure he'd have a reaction the moment he touched my skin. That way, he could never get near me."

"But since he was so desperate for a child to hold this ridiculous marriage together, I decided to grant him his wish. Let him raise my and Carter's child. A generous act of charity on my part, you could even call it."

My blood ran cold.

The child I longed for, the baby I cherished, was never mine.

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1

"Sienna, aren't you afraid your husband will lose his mind when he finds out the truth?" one of the women asked, her sharp laughter echoing in the dim hospital corridor as she swirled the champagne in her flute. "That's Blake Sterling we're talking about. If he uses his connections in the media..."

Sienna Caldwell languidly took a sip of her drink, her voice filled with contempt.

"Lose his mind? Please. He only married his way into high society. The man can't survive without a woman. That night, I just gave him something to knock him out. I didn't have to do a thing, and he walked away thinking he'd had the night of his life."

Another woman toyed with the small vial, a mocking smile on her face.

"Sienna, this stuff has been secretly produced at the Caldwell Medical Center ever since you got married. And your dear Blake thinks you, the immunology expert, developed it just for him to cure his condition. God, the irony."

"That's the price one must pay for love, isn't it?" Sienna sneered. "As if I have time to worry about him. He has no clue that everything I do is for Carter. Carter is the only man I'll ever let touch me."

Their laughter erupted in the hallway, sharp and merciless.

I hid behind the hospital room door, my back pressed to the wall, frozen from head to toe. Every drop of blood in my body had turned to ice.

For five years, every accidental touch between Sienna and me had nearly killed me.

Sometimes, it was rashes that kept me up all night, scratching until I bled. Other times, it was anaphylactic shock that left me seconds from death, gasping for air.

Our families have been friends for years. And for years, I blamed myself, thinking there was something wrong with my genes, that I was a failure of a husband.

Every time I woke up in the emergency room, Sienna would comfort me with gentle words, telling me it was okay, that she understood.

So I forced myself to endure it all, keeping the safest possible distance from my own wife.

Now, I finally understood. Every moment, every inch of space between us, was because Sienna was saving herself for Carter Hayes. Every swollen, festering sore on my body was the poison she fed me for that man.

I was just a tool—a respectable figurehead to raise the bastard child of their love affair. I was the ultimate fool.

I thought of Sienna's pregnant belly, round and growing more obvious by the day. A sharp pain twisted in my gut. I wanted to vomit every last drop of the so-called "special serum" she had personally fed me over the years.

Around the corner, Sienna was still complaining to her friends, completely unaware that I was standing just a few feet away. "If I could have found another way, I wouldn't have had to endure that night. Just thinking about it now, even pretending to sleep in the same bed with him, makes me sick."

One of her friends burst out laughing. "Oh, poor Sienna, you've suffered so much! Cheers!"

More laughter followed, sharp and mocking, piercing me like a thousand tiny knives.

My eyes burned, hot tears welling up against my will.

I should have seen this coming.

Sienna was a double Ph.D. from an Ivy League university, a genius in the world of immunology. If she had wanted to cure my allergy, or even just alleviate it, she would have done so long ago. There was no immunological puzzle in the world she couldn't solve—unless she was the one who created it.

I was just too naive.

I underestimated the depth of her obsession with Carter, and I underestimated how low she would stoop for a man she could never have in the open.

But why did I have to be the one to endure it all?

Five years of a sexless marriage. Five years of psychological torture.

New York's elite circles whispered behind my back, mocking me as a loser who couldn't even touch his own wife. A pathetic parasite who climbed the social ladder through marriage.

Sienna's father, Harrison Caldwell, never gave me the time of day.

"We married our daughter to you, and you can't even touch her? You can't even give us a grandchild? You are a disgrace to the Caldwell family!"

I swallowed every insult, enduring those years like a man crawling through mud, hoping and praying that one day, everything would go back to normal.

A single, burning question tore through me: Sienna, after five years of my devotion, after all the times I nearly died for you… how could you repay me like this?

I didn't have the strength to rush out and confront her. Not now. Not in this weak and pathetic state.

Numbly, barely feeling my legs, I stumbled back to my hospital bed and pulled out my phone. With trembling hands, I dialed an encrypted number.

"Paige... it's me, Blake. I need you to immediately prepare a lawsuit against Sienna Caldwell and all related parties. And this is about more than just a divorce."

After hanging up, I composed myself, forcing my breathing to even out. Less than a minute later, the door was pushed open, and Sienna rushed in, a mask of perfect anxiety on her face.

"Blake, what are you doing out of bed? You just stabilized. This is dangerous."

Watching her walk toward me with such practiced concern, I couldn't help but wonder, Is she worried about me, or is she worried about her flawless plan?

I gave a bitter smile and sidestepped her touch. "I'm fine. Just had a nightmare."

For a split second, her eyes narrowed. She was always the one who flinched away from me. I'd never been the one to dodge her touch, even though I was the one who paid the price in agony every single time.

"If you're feeling better, let's go home," she said. "I hate these places."

Back at our penthouse on Fifth Avenue, she carefully took my hand—through my clothes—and placed it on her belly. She whispered to the child inside, "Little one, be good for Mommy, okay? Daddy just got back from the hospital. He's been through so much for us."

In the early days of our marriage, this would have sent me over the moon. I would've thanked my lucky stars for a loving wife and our precious child.

But now, every word was a knife plunging into my heart. My chest ached as if it were bleeding.

As usual, Sienna brought me a warm drink with a faint, fragrant aroma. Her eyes crinkled in a practiced, gentle smile. "I brewed you some special chamomile tea. Drink it and get some sleep. I'm going to the study to finish some work."

Her soft tone and familiar gentleness should have been comforting. Now, it just chilled me to the bone.

I knew what was in it. I took the cup, playing along. The moment she turned to get a blanket, I dumped most of the tea into the potted plant by the bed before pressing the rim to my lips for show.

Before long, I feigned that the drug had taken effect, letting my eyelids grow heavy and my breathing become even.

Once she was certain I was "asleep," Sienna tiptoed out of the bedroom. A few minutes later, the sound of a video call came from the study.

"Carter, don't worry. I'd never let him touch me. You know how I feel about him, how repulsive I find him," Sienna's voice cooed.

"And I'll make sure you shine at the Caldwell Foundation gala next week. You'll become the rising star of the entire medical community. Trust me, Blake will definitely play his part."

I barely had time to process the implications of her words.

This was the same Sienna who always publicly declared that "the Caldwell Group is a meritocracy, we don't even hire male interns to avoid any suspicion." And here she was, personally paving the way for a pretty-boy colleague with nothing to his name.

So, what did all her excuses about overtime, meetings, and being busy really mean?

I didn't dare to let myself think about it.

The most ridiculous part was that everyone seemed to know except me. I was the court jester, playing the part of the devoted husband.

I vaguely heard the sound of suggestive kisses over the call, followed by a loud crash as the custom art frame from our wedding fell to the floor.

What a joke.

"What happened, Blake?" Sienna's anxious voice suddenly came from the doorway. She looked genuinely worried, but the glossy sheen on her lips, meticulously applied for her video call, was a painful, glaring detail.

I forced myself to stay calm, pretending I had just been woken up. "Sienna... the picture frame fell."

She let out a long sigh of relief. Tugging uncomfortably at her wrinkled silk robe, she quickly turned away.

"I'm going to take a shower."

As she disappeared down the hall, an impulse drove me to pick up the phone she'd left behind.

I gambled on the unlock code. Her password was pathetically simple: Carter's birthday. Notifications from an encrypted group chat were popping up frantically on the screen.

Every message was like a heavy punch to my ribs.

Carter: "Everything is set."

One of her friends: "Don't worry, just waiting for the gala."

Sienna: "Blake will attend as a special case study. Carter, as the lead physician, will publicly demonstrate how he overcame this rare immune rejection, which will secure him the chief researcher position at the foundation."

Another friend: "And then Sienna will announce her pregnancy afterward, attributing it all to Carter's treatment plan. God, it'll be the top story in the medical world, the highlight of the whole event!"

The messages left me reeling.

Why did Sienna have to trample on my dignity like this?

Not only did she trick me into raising her and Carter's child, but she was also planning to use my illness to elevate his status in the medical community.

Sienna came out of the shower, glanced at her phone, and then casually suggested, "The Caldwell Foundation gala is coming up. I want you to try on the suit I had prepared for you. You need to attend with me, to be presented to the board as the crowning achievement of my medical career."

A shiver ran down my spine as I thought of their plan. I instinctively took a step back. "I'm not going. I don't feel well, and I have work to do."

Sienna's expression instantly soured.

"Work? What work could that pathetic little architecture firm of yours possibly have? A grown man, home all day. What do you even do? You couldn't touch me for years. Now that I’m finally pregnant, you’re going to give me attitude? Who do you think you're pouting at?"

Her words stabbed straight into my heart, sharper and colder than any outsider's mockery.

Who was it that turned me into this hollowed-out shell of a man? Who destroyed my immune system with drugs?

Seeing my silence, she assumed I was giving in, just like I always did. She said sharply, her tone commanding, "This isn't up for discussion. The car will be waiting downstairs at seven tomorrow night."

She turned and walked toward the walk-in closet, leaving me with her cold, indifferent back.

The next evening, I was powerless to resist. Bodyguards roughly pushed me into the car, and before long, we arrived at the gala venue.

Everyone was drinking, chatting, and smiling. On the surface, it looked like any other charity gala.

Just as I was starting to relax, Carter walked over with a bright, almost provocative smile.

"Blake, you're looking well," he said, raising his glass, his voice loud enough for the surrounding circle of people to hear. "You really are a lucky guy. Despite being allergic to women, Sienna still managed to get pregnant."

Every word dripped with hostility. Sienna, sitting on the sofa, watched him with a soft, indulgent gaze.

New York's elites joined in, poorly concealing their snickers.

"Have you heard? This Blake fellow supposedly has an extremely rare immune deficiency. Even a handshake can send him into shock."

"I heard that men with this condition can't control themselves once they get a chance, like animals in heat. I wonder if it's true?"

They slapped my shoulder hypocritically, pointing and whispering at me with malicious glee on their faces.

A tidal wave of humiliation, helplessness, and confusion washed over me, drowning me without mercy.

A rush of heat surged through my chest. I shot to my feet and slammed my champagne flute down on the table.

"Enough," I said, staring at Sienna, my voice as cold as ice. "Sienna, you're my wife. Are you really just going to sit there and do nothing?"

Only then did she lazily raise a hand, gesturing for the others to return to their seats.

Carter stepped forward, feigning kindness as he offered me a glass of water, a look of false concern on his face. "Don't take their words to heart, man. They're just joking. Here, drink some water, cool off. It has that serum Sienna specially prepared for you."

Listening to the sarcasm laced in his every syllable and staring at the slightly cloudy water, I knew I couldn't keep up the charade any longer.

"I've made my appearance. I'm leaving."

The moment the words left my mouth, Sienna slammed her handbag on the table with a loud smack.

The once-noisy VIP lounge fell instantly silent.

"Blake, Carter is helping you. How can you be so ungrateful? Drink it. Don't embarrass him."

Carter still held the glass out to me, his expression seemingly friendly, but his eyes were full of menace. "Yeah, man. Do me a favor. It's just a glass of water."

I glanced around and finally realized that everyone in the room was staring at me, their eyes filled with anticipation for the show to begin.

My heart sank.

I finally understood. This wasn't just a gala; it was a public execution. They needed me to be a submissive prop on stage to highlight Carter's so-called brilliant medical skills.