Married To The Fake Crippled Billionaire

rk on the ceiling. Sleep was a distant country she couldn't reach. The events of the day played on a loo

thought was a venomous snake, coiling in her gut. She was utterly alone, a castaway on th

tress on the king

shot toward

ght filtering through the windows, she could see the powerful lines of his chest and shoulders. H

room in three

n, scooped her up from the sofa, an

his body hard as stone. "What are you doing?" she whi

inger to her lips, a clear

They were fixed on the bo

sible underneath. And then she saw it-a shadow, flickering and indisti

ith understanding. Th

t of his skin, the solid wall of his chest against her cheek. A blush crept up her

silent question about her commitment to their contract. Then,

t rustle of her dress and the sound of their breathing filled the silence. Her heart hamme

door shifted, then disappeared. The soun

sdropper

had grabbed her. He stepped back, the s

a low murmur. "Sleep there.

he far side of

the very edge of the mattress. The sheets smelled faintly of him-cedar and something clean, like fresh linen. For the

treaming through the windows. The space beside

the cavernous walk-in closet-likely provided by some i

the head of the table was an elderly woman with sharp, intelligent eyes and a cascade of silver hair pinned in an ele

oked up, her eyes slightly unfocused. "Ah, the n

ored eyes let out a sharp, derisive laugh. "Grandmother, that's not the

nties named Vicky Pennington, looked

Amara. Her sharp gaze softened for a fraction of a second. "Goodness," she murmured, more

nge, forgotten chord. Who was Eleanor? Her mind briefly

She's a gold digger, nothing more," she sneered, her voice risin

f anger and humiliation that had been compressin

table until she was standin

she sla

. Vicky gasped, her hand flying to her reddening cheek. Coffee slo

e. "You bitch!" she shrieked, r

st stood there, her spine straight as steel, and met Vicky's furious gaze with an icy ca

in her eyes, made Vicky hesitate. Her hand

going on

n in her late forties, impeccably dressed and radiating an aura of

and her face hardened in

n my child? We all know why you're here. You think because you trapped a broken