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The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband

Chapter 3 No.3

Word Count: 673    |    Released on: 04/02/2026

on the shoulder of I-94, hazard lights blinking in the downpour. Private

e battered Linco

e," Kaela

ained things no pharmacy sold. She walked toward the convoy,

orward, weapon ra

fled by the mask. She flashed the scree

eapon, talking into his

e middle SUV. Th

sweat, and underneath it all, the faint, me

evastating. High cheekbones, a jawline that could cut glass, and dark hair plastered to

ing over a monitor. "Tachycardia. 140 bpm. He'

he door slid shut,

ed, looking at Kaela's muddy boots and

hed out, placing two finger

ered like a trapped bird. But the moment she touched him, h

illness wash

s neck. Sandalwood. And something else. A bi

synthetic s

la said, her voice flat. "He's in a l

out a small spray bottle fille

shrieked. "That is not

the mist directly into Barron's face. "It's concentra

nhaled t

eaving. The monitor beeped-a slower,

screen, mouth agape.

reaming in his head-the drill, the fire, the crash-had silenced. Replac

n his neck. Cool

me in months, th

. "Tell Alistair Kaufman someone is slow-dosing

aled. "Who

hood lower. "Some

d. Transfer com

rned t

, a hand

was crushing. His knuckles turned white. It wasn't the weak gr

ried to pull away.

terling stammered. "

. Veins popped against the sk

nging her masked fac

she whispered. "I

second longer-a challenge-and then, slo

and exited the veh

clear, and focused. There was no madness in them. Only the col

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The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband
The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband
“The rain in Detroit was slick with grime when my family finally came to fetch me. They didn't want a reunion; they wanted a sacrificial lamb to marry into the Kaufman empire to save their failing business. I thought I was just being sold off, but the limo ride ended under a dark overpass where six hired thugs were waiting with chains. My own sister had ordered them to "break my spirit" so I'd be a shaking, pathetic mess by the time I reached the altar. They called me "Detroit trash" and sprayed air freshener when I sat on their leather seats. My stepmother wanted a video of me begging for my life, and my father was ready to trade me like a used car to a man everyone called a "vegetable." They expected a submissive country girl, unaware that I was a high-level "cleaner" who could snap a radius bone before they could even scream. When I finally reached the Kaufman estate, I found my fiancé, Barron, slumped in a wheelchair, drooling and silent. But as soon as the doors closed, the "invalid" grabbed my wrist with a grip of iron and whispered a command that changed everything. I didn't understand why my own blood was so desperate to see me destroyed. What had I ever done to deserve a hit squad and a forced marriage to a man they thought was a corpse? But Barron isn't a vegetable, and I'm not a victim. We just touched down at the Moon family gala in a matte-black helicopter, and as the doors slide open, the "broken" bride is about to show them exactly what happens when you throw away the wrong daughter. "If we're going to crash a party," Barron whispered, his eyes burning with lethal clarity, "we should make an entrance."”