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The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

Chapter 5 No.5

Word Count: 725    |    Released on: 04/01/2026

ara's face. Julian sat in the wheelchair, his back to the party, the l

r case. He extracted a cigarette and lit it with a gold

ing red. He exhaled a plume of

Tell your parents I'm not interested. Tell them

he watched the smoke

spinning the chair around to face her. His aggre

l out a phone or a notepad. She simply spoke.

ve

igarette burned unh

rimeter server," Elara continued, her voice clinical. "Yesterday morning.

eyes narrowed into slits. The mask of the broken invalid di

cinating," he

noring his denial. "You favor the left knee. Old injury? Maybe. But the mu

terrifying speed, pinning Elara against the stone railing. The footrests slammed into h

wish?" he hissed. "Wh

ain in her shins but held his gaze. "I need

face for a wire, for deception. He s

," he co

sit in the corner while you rot," Elara said. "If you reject me, they'll send Tiffany. O

rmrests loosened sligh

ou faking?

f your busines

"If you're incapacitated, the vultures come out. You're

It didn't reach his eyes, but it was there. He s

k," he said. "Which isn't sa

t in your way. In exchange, I get the Thorne name. I get protection. And when you'r

e. He looked at the party inside-Richard

year. You live in my house. Yo

" Elar

g to a murmur that made the hair on Elara's arms stand

replied, "you won't hav

hard poked his head out, h

g alright

heel of his chair. His face went slack, his shoulders s

Julian mumbled.

at her shoes, shri

deal," Ju

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The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact
The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact
“I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.”