The Unwanted Healer's Thirty-Day Fake Marriage

spooned the bitter, dark medicine between her uncle's cracked lips. She wiped a stray drop from his chin with the corner of the sheet, adjusted his oxygen mas

eramic clicking softly against the wood, and pulle

im hallway, a hand shot out from

in erratic, jerky circles near the corner, her silk nightgown twisted into sweaty knots between her fingers. Her carefully tousled b

h the fear, a stubborn, desperate light burned in her eyes. Celia was vain, shallow, and spoiled rotten, but she wasn't a monster.

ack for more wedding details. Celia's face went pale. She grabbed Cynthia's arm with a grip that was surprisingly str

m, his icy, piercing, utterly merciless gaze locked onto her like a targeting laser. The sheer, crushing weight of his dead, calculating star

lotchy red. She pointed a violently shaking finger directly at C

rangled squeak. "I... I lent it to Cynthia last week. I didn't buy it. I

pin drop on the t

Suffocating. It stretche

ous purple. The color of a bruise. She stared at her daughter as if Celia had just stoo

it was almost theatrical-turned her head, her sharp, assessing gaze traveling across the room and landing on Cynthia. On the fad

of a physical blow. His gaze raked over her face. The sharp, unyielding line of her jaw. The high, severe che

rp focus. The silhouette. The cold precision. The tot

-a dark, toxic, corrosive paranoia flooded Dominic's brain like a chemical spill. Hi

d, makes the family look gullible and foolish. Then the real schemer-the mastermind-emerges from the shadows, playing t

edatory, menacing. He looked down at Cynthia from his full, imposing hei

bait-and-switch. She cared about the bracelet. She cared about the prophecy her desperate heart had already written. She

trembling with joy. "Oh, my dear, brave

gid frame. She took a deliberate half-step backward, smoothly pivoting to a

ntirely devoid of emotion. "Anyone with medical training could have do

lt of pure, incandescent rage through her system. "She's a nobody!" Inger shrieked, her voice cracking, her composure shattering. She thrust a trembling, accusatory finger at

ile fit with sickening precision-exactly the kind of desperate, bottom-feeding gold digger who would orchestrate an elaborate

e old woman declared, her voice ringing with unshakable finality. "God guided her hand to save my grandson. God chose her. And I do not argue with God.

woman-politely but firmly-that she was

before a single sy

ynthia, his dark eyes burning with a toxic cocktail of contempt and suspicion. "Since you want to play

llow, Dominic turned on his heel and strode toward the heavy oak double doors of

monster and his circus of a family. But she needed to kill this absurd delusion before it metastasized and destroyed what little stability she had l