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Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Paralyzed Husband

Chapter 7 

Word Count: 620    |    Released on: Today at 16:43

use that smelled of nothing at all.

o-ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking, panoramic view of the c

gesturing down a long hallway. "Your room is the first on t

al garment bags hanging in a walk-in closet larger than her old

sheath dress. The second held shoes. The third, a delicate dia

n actress, and the stage was a Long Island estate. She could do this. It was just an

as waiting by the door, wearing a perfectly ta

felt a flicker of something in his expression behind the dark gl

?" he

no

ind was a whirlwind of medical protocols and escape routes, a habit she'

tensing. His hand shot out and gr

typed, her con

is jaw tight with appa

hmere blanket-or at least, his whole body stiffened as if it w

ers searching for the pressure points.

en she

liberately, almost theatrically so. There was no fibrillating twi

ed for a fracti

ng?" he asked, hi

n, working as if to release a cramp that wasn't there. She felt

he tension in his frame eased. He

d leaned back against the leather

is voice quiet, laced with somethi

ade a discovery. He was faking. But why? She q

nurse. She taugh

e observation away, deep in her mind. She had to be more care

for the rest of the drive, the space between t

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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.”