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The Mad Billionaire's Genius Undercover Wife

Chapter 6 6

Word Count: 760 | Released on: 06/01/2026

y on the linoleum, a rhythm that felt too cheerfu

It was a wall of

ked i

he floor. A toilet in the corner. No w

enter of the room,

traitjacket, the heavy canvas straps pulled tight across his bro

e the sharp angles of his shoulder blades. He was tall, his frame massive, but he was skeletal no

g, matted, hangi

rd. The glass door

spun

ped br

s devastating. High cheekbones, a strong jaw. But it was his eyes that froze me. They were a piercing

he didn't see a per

animalistic sound of pu

t. He stopped three fe

, terrified shriek-and scramble

, covering my fac

The camera in the corner was

ming in ragged gasps. He was sweating prof

e gravel grinding together. "They sent

there for an hour, trembling, while he paced the length of his chain,

him. He slumped against the

ore minutes. T

-end model, covering every inch of

ified with a looping algorithm. I pressed it between my fingers, activating it. For the next twenty min

off the pink dress. Underneath, I was wearing a bla

d towa

t underneath that, there was a s

t besi

?" I wh

open. He snarled,

ack. My hand shot out and clamped onto his jaw, my t

ock. His body went limp, paralyze

longer the scared girl's. It wa

focus in my eyes. He

my bra and shined it into his e

red. "Induced by scopolamine an

. I felt it. A small, hard l

ting his amygdala, keeping him in a

lian," I whispered. "

arring with the madness in h

aid. I turned off the penlight. "And t

Chapter End

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The Mad Billionaire's Genius Undercover Wife

Mischa Taube Modern

“I arrived at my uncle's mansion looking like human trash, clutching a one-way bus ticket and a duffel bag stuffed with old newspaper. My aunt looked at me with pure disgust, as if she could smell the poverty on my skin, but they needed me for one thing: to be a sacrificial lamb. They told me I was getting married to Julian Sterling, a man the elite circles called a violent monster locked in a cage. My uncle forced me to sign away my soul to save their failing fortune, while my cousin Kayla laughed and threw a torn dress at my feet, calling me a "rat from the Rust Belt." At the Sterling estate, the nightmare only deepened. Julian's stepmother treated me like a horse she was forced to buy, ordering the staff to "burn off" my hair before locking me in the West Wing. I was thrown into a padded cell with a man who lunged at me, his heavy chains rattling against the floor as he roared with an animalistic rage that had already killed two nurses. They thought I was a pathetic, uneducated girl who "didn't read so good." They didn't know I had extorted two million dollars from my uncle before walking out the door, or that I was secretly recording every slap and insult they threw at me for future leverage. I huddled in the corner of that dark cell, letting them watch me tremble on the security feeds. I let Julian's sister strike me with a riding crop and splash water in my face, playing the role of the clumsy, sobbing idiot to perfection. But the moment the cameras looped, the scared girl vanished. I pinned the "monster" to the floor, cut the neural tracking chip out of his neck with a hidden scalpel, and whispered into his ear as his blue eyes finally cleared. They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter. They had no idea they were sending a wolf to hunt a beast.”