The Billionaire's Doctor Chapter 1

When it came to the arranged marriage for our family merger, I picked the only doctor in a sea of billionaire heirs.

But after the wedding, I realized he was basically that one overworked doctor friend in every romance novel who gets called at 3 AM to treat the female lead.

After witnessing it firsthand several times, I gave up on trying to develop feelings for him.

I mean, who knows if I'll end up having to fight his billionaire friends for his attention?

But what I didn't expect was... he could read my mind.

* * *

For people like us, we always knew the day of the arranged marriage would come.

It's fine. After enjoying so many privileges, it's normal to pay a price.

I was lucky enough to choose my own partner—from a pool of heirs in our social circle.

Honestly, it didn't matter who it was. Everyone knows these marriages are just for show, a business transaction between two families.

But since I had a choice, I wanted someone relatively normal.

According to my intel: One guy was entangled with his first love abroad. Pass. Another was playing a game of "she runs, he chases" with his sugar baby. Pass. Another just started sponsoring a D-list actress. Hard pass.

After filtering through the trash, I thought of Julian Sterling.

My impression of him was limited: gentle, reserved, expensive.

His name sounded like a standard CEO, but he was the only one in the group who wasn't a corporate shark.

Julian was a doctor. A genuine academic who got into Johns Hopkins Medical School on his own merit and completed his MD/PhD.

He fit the image perfectly: soft-spoken, polite, clean-cut.

Every time I saw him, he was in light-colored suits. With the doctor filter, he seemed almost saintly.

Our engagement went smoothly. Our parents hit it off immediately.

I heard Julian agreed without hesitation too.

So, within a month, I went from single since birth to a married woman.

On our wedding day, I moved into the house he bought. Beige decor, very him.

Julian gave me a tour, then led me to the master bedroom door. His voice was warm. "I know this is an arranged marriage, but I don't want it to be just a formality. I hope we can take it slow, get to know each other, and build a relationship."

He pointed to the guest room opposite. "I'll sleep there. Don't be nervous. I won't force anything until we're both ready."

I went into my room and closed the door.

Honestly, he was better than I expected.

I always assumed that even without scandals, birds of a feather flock together. His friends all had "CEO Syndrome"—keeping mistresses, dramatic relationships.

Although he seemed different, I didn't have high hopes. I just wanted a peaceful coexistence. As long as no one caused a scene in front of me, I wouldn't meddle in his private life.

Two months flew by.

One night, after a shower, I lay in bed looking at a skimpy nightgown I'd bought. My heart started racing.

Julian might be a gentleman with no impure thoughts.

But I wasn't!

Single for twenty-something years, barely held a man's hand, but my mind was full of yellow trash.

With a legitimate, incredibly handsome husband right there, why live like a nun?

Plus, over the last two months, he came home at 6 PM sharp every day. We had cozy dinners, leisurely weekend shopping trips. He waited while I got my nails and hair done, and watched trashy soap operas with me on the couch.

I had to admit, I was catching feelings.