The Disabled Tycoon's Lethal Substitute Bride

Chapter 2

Word Count: 822 | Released on: 03/08/2026

ch. Every lesson, from her posture to the way she held a

ayed her pa

pth-a backwater girl who would never fit in. Sharo

droom door. From a hidden compartment in an old suit

ng silver needles and dozens of small vials fill

eral herbal powders, following a complex ratio. She was

d notebooks. It worked wonders, but if the dosage of just one ingr

ate porcelain jar. Then, she deliberately left a small amount of th

er unlocked and went to take a shower. The sou

she heard the faint sound o

s scanning the room greedily. They were

hat's it!" she whispered excitedly. "I saw h

get it. Jessica's party is to

d carefully scraped the "wrong formula" from the mort

uietly as they had entered, convi

, stepped out. She glanced at the empty mortar, a flic

ore she could be taken to the venue, Shar

ts. Sharon was pointing a trembling finger at her. "You ungrateful little bitch! The Kemps are at the door! If they see

nocence. "Aunt Shar

!" Sharon shrieked, rais

ack, and the coldness in her eyes made Sh

the front door. "Excuse me, is this the Rush

n the doorway. Behind him, a black Bentley gleamed, its presence radiati

tantly shifted to a fawning smile. "Ah, you must b

nd precisely on Eleonora. "You must be Miss Eleonora Rush. M

-a pawn to be sold by her father. But in her heart, she w

his small detail further convinced Sharon and Jessi

politely. "Hello

ok in the tense atmosphere and Sharon's suspended hand. He turned

but also declared that, from this moment on, Eleo

st the hateful glares of Sharon and Jessica,

r door

urned to the window. His frame was thin and his face pale, but an aura of

new husband

Chapter End

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The Disabled Tycoon's Lethal Substitute Bride

Tabbie Platt Romance

“I was the despised stepdaughter of the Rush family, treated like dirt under my stepmother's designer heels while secretly investigating my biological mother's suspicious death. One day, my stepmother slapped a marriage contract on my worn desk. I was to be sacrificed in my stepsister's place to marry Damien Kemp, a notoriously violent, wheelchair-bound heir who wasn't expected to live past thirty. "If you dare to resist, I'll leak the scandals about your dead mother to every media outlet." My stepsister filmed my misery for her followers, laughing as they threw a thrift-store reject at me to use as a wedding dress. They forced me to endure humiliating etiquette lessons just to mock my clumsiness, and even picked my bedroom lock to steal a precious herbal skin formula I had mixed, hoping to use it to shine at an upcoming high-society gala. In their eyes, I was just a pathetic, helpless puppet, destined to be buried alongside a dying invalid so they could secure a massive corporate investment. What they didn't know was that the formula they greedily stole was a carefully crafted trap that would soon destroy my stepsister's face. And when I finally met my "dying" billionaire husband, I didn't cower. Instead, I looked at his supposedly paralyzed legs, diagnosed the exact rare neurotoxin destroying his body, and offered him a thirty-million-dollar deal to tear all our enemies down.”