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Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Paralyzed Husband

Chapter 3 

Word Count: 844    |    Released on: Today at 16:43

screen. The notification g

ICIENT

ad likely just canceled the auto-payment. She had t

calendar reminder: Research Grant A

t that data, the grant was a fantasy. Years of secret work, of moonlighting as the undergroun

the Rust Belt. She had no safety net, no family to call. She had clawed her way to New York,

as tr

itting perfectly still, sippin

s wealthy, if his suit and the earli

te thought slamm

ce. It was a strategic cal

of the table. Her k

nce stretched. The man, Colton, made no move to

shop. He scanned the room, his eyes landing on Colton, th

, his voice low and profess

turned his head in Clarice's direction. "Ste

od that was also a clinic

chill. They kne

le and slid it in front of her. "Mr. Bentley was impres

pened the folder. The top page was a

POSAL & CONT

ll living expenses covered, and a clear list of duties, primarily a

onto the dark lenses of Colton's glasses. Her mind

e, her hands trembling

y

ely a smile, but it changed his

I find the process tedious. You, on the other hand, are not an heiress. You are... an interrupt

clearly done a thorough ba

visible earpiece crackled wi

but works a low-level admin job. No debt, except for a recently bounced rent check. Clea

inger against the c

aid I'm a bad p

in her mind. She typed her respons

erson is better th

mile widen

said. "I have a bad temper. And

her own resolve hardening.

have a lot of patience. And

odded on

ea

at the folder, then at him.

toward the door with his head. "S

e going?" Cl

on said. "Before

she stood up. Sterling held t

s wheelchair as Sterling

rb. Sterling was already on the phone, prin

next to a stranger's wheelchair, unaware sh

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Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Paralyzed Husband
Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Paralyzed Husband
“I sat at a table for two in the center of Le Coucou, clutching a gift box that had cost me two months of savings. It was our three-year anniversary, and I was waiting for Gavin to finally ask the big question. But when the heavy oak doors opened, Gavin didn't walk toward me with a ring. He walked in with a polished blonde heiress tucked under his arm, her hand resting protectively over a small baby bump. "This is Tiffany Stone. My fiancée," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. He didn't apologize for being late or for the three years we'd spent together. Instead, he pulled out a checkbook, scribbled a number, and slid a ten-thousand-dollar check across the white tablecloth. "Consider it severance for your time," he added, as Tiffany mocked my cheap drugstore dress. "Don't contact me again. Tiffany doesn't need the stress." I was the entertainment for the entire restaurant-the pathetic girl dumped for a better model. By the time I walked out into the rain, I had lost my boyfriend, my home, and the funding for my secret medical research project. I was an orphan with no safety net, facing an eviction notice and a ruined career. I had given Gavin everything, and he had discarded me like a broken tool. The injustice burned in my chest, a hot, sharp rage that replaced my tears. Desperate and freezing, I ducked into a coffee shop where I met Colton Bentley, a reclusive billionaire in a wheelchair. After I defended him from a cruel date, he offered me a contract: a marriage of convenience and a seven-figure payment to act as his shield. I signed the papers that night, ready to use his wealth to rebuild my life. But as I watched my new husband navigate his penthouse, I noticed his "paralyzed" legs tense with a strength that shouldn't exist.”