Flash Marriage To My Fake Disabled Husband

es locked onto her the moment she entered, scanning her clothes, her breathing, the tension in her shoulders. He was looking for the adrenaline crash of a woman who had just outrun a pr

sighed, patting her hand. "I am Donovan's grandfather. My medical bills... my heart condition... it drained what little savings this poor boy had. He's bankrupt because of me." Acacia looked at the old man's clothes. The cut was impeccable, but Theodore quickly brushed a hand over his lapel. "Thrift store finds. Got to keep up appearances, you know." Acacia's medical instincts took over. She guided Theodore to the sofa. "You should rest, sir, especially with your heart condition." Theodore waved her off, a sly glint in his eyes. "Nonsense. I came because I heard you need a job. Word travels fast, even about a savior like you." Acacia's eyes sharpened. "I do." Theodore leaned in, his voice conspiratorial. "I've arranged an opportunity for you. An old employer of mine is looking for a head florist and maid. It's out on Long Island. The Hamptons Estate. The pay is... well, it's ten thousand dollars a month." Acacia's breath hitched. Ten thousand a month. That was enough to secure Elmira's care and pay off Donovan's fake mortgage in one sweep. Donovan, sitting in his wheelchair, felt a vein throb in his temple. The Hamptons Estate was his primary fortress. It housed his private servers, his armory, and his most sensitive