His Marital Rules

Isabella Valentine's husband had severe mysophobia.

Their marriage lasted three years.

He set three rules for her.

No physical contact.

No kissing.

No sharing a bed.

One day, she accidentally used his glass.

He immediately threw it in the trash.

His gaze was icy, as if looking at something filthy.

When she woke up with a high fever, shivering,

she couldn’t help but long for his embrace.

Yet he took two steps back.

His voice held a warning.

"Isabella, don’t cross the line."

During her period, she stained his car seat.

He pulled over and called his assistant.

Ordered the car to be disposed of.

After that, she never rode in his vehicle again.

Isabella wept silently.

But she followed his rules even more meticulously.

Before sharing the bed, she showered three times.

Only when her skin turned red did she dare lie down.

To hold his hand,

she scrubbed her fingertips with disinfectant.

Until her hands turned pale and peeled.

She thought with enough patience,

one day, she could enter his world.

Then she and Sophia Lowell fell into the river together.

And she realized his mysophobia had exceptions.

On their way back from the cemetery, their car crashed.

It lost control and plunged into the water.

"Help—"

Isabella struggled in the murky river.

Through blurred vision, she saw Ethan Roscente jump in.

"Ethan, save me—"

She reached for him desperately.

Sophia’s cry for help echoed at the same time.

"Ethan, I’m scared—"

Ethan hesitated for a second.

Then turned and swam toward Sophia.

"Isabella, Sophia can’t swim."

"Hold on a little longer."

Isabella’s heart turned to ice.

She tried to grab his sleeve.

But he shook her off without hesitation.

Water flooded her nose and mouth.

Her consciousness faded.

She first met Ethan at a bank robbery.

The man in a tailored suit stood out.

Even with a gun to his head, he remained composed.

When the police arrived, he helped take down the robber.

At the gunshot, everyone paled in fear.

Only he calmly adjusted his cufflinks.

As if nothing had happened.

Isabella fell in love at first sight.

Begged her father to introduce them.

Her father objected immediately.

"Ethan Roscente has severe mysophobia."

"No woman has ever touched him."

Isabella refused to believe it.

She was beautiful, from a good family.

Surely, she could win him over.

Knowing he loved osmanthus cake from the south,

she woke early every day to buy it.

When he fell ill abroad, she flew to care for him.

During a dangerous mountain expedition,

she dug him out of a mudslide with her bare hands.

Later, he proposed.

No flowers, no ring.

Just said he needed a marriage of convenience.

Overjoyed, she asked if he loved her.

He gave a faint "Mm."

Now she realized—

the day he proposed was Sophia’s wedding day.

He never loved her.