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The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

Chapter 6 No.6

Word Count: 696 | Released on: 04/01/2026

papers. The lawyers moved like sharks, slidin

r of

ial Agr

r. For a second, she hesitated. This was it. She was si

ed in her ear, gripping

. Julian was watching her. He

ance. The signature

pped his hands. "We'll a

e. "Ladies and Gentlemen, a special announcement. Mr. Ju

e was polit

ns, sister," she said, her smile tight. "You'll make a lovely nurse. Just m

oked at

His voice carried, cut

inked. "Ye

a languid finger. "The zipper has

o her back. She spun around, fra

e ran toward the bathro

was no

a smile. Julian leaned in, his lips brushi

t," he whispered. "I

led it out. A text from

: Elara

s of three encrypted IP jumps originating from her foster home's location. Someon

aving no footprint was harder than hav

he muttered u

im in front of a senator. Elara wa

circled i

th was higher than the GDP of a small island, stepped

her red wine. "The mute got the monste

cracker. Daphne sl

d. "God, you're pathetic. Look at t

rk liquid splashed across the front of Elara's grey dre

er eyes were dancing with malice. "My bad. But

People nearby turne

her skin. She slowly reached into her bag and

on Daphne's necklace. A massiv

ng the subtle fire of a true diamond. But more importantly, she saw the setting. The prong

he typed a message. She t

al platinum is heavy; that chain moves li

he clutched the necklace.

typed

Or should I ask the

in, squinting. "Actually... the girl migh

turned

Chapter End

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The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

Alma Modern

“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.”