The Ugly Bride Is An Unlikely Genius!

"Collin..."

Soft moans drifted through the ajar door into the hallway, reaching Marissa Spencer's ears.

She heard Collin Anderson and his adopted younger sister, Zoe Anderson, kissing, along with his muffled groans.

"Shh. Keep your voice down," Collin murmured.

"Why? Marissa can't hear us. You're marrying her in two days, and I can't stand it. I had to have you here, in the bed she'll sleep in after the wedding."

Collin gave a low grunt and spoke again in a teasing voice. "Are you jealous? You know you're the one I love. It's just that, because of who we are, Grandpa would never let us be together. Why do you think I'm putting on this whole act?"

He added, "And we agreed you'd take her place at the wedding, remember? All you have to do is pretend you're the bride. She's ugly, she can't hear, and she never goes anywhere. She'll never figure it out. I only agreed to marry her because she can cure my mother's headaches. Now come on, lean against the door and bend over."

Marissa stopped dead in the hallway. She couldn't believe what she had just heard.

She had had a car accident and Collin saved her during a storm three years ago. When she woke, she had lost her memory, her face was disfigured, and she couldn't hear. She had pieced her name together from what little she could remember.

He brought her home because she had nowhere else to go. Cynthia Anderson, his mother, suffered from severe migraines that none of her doctors had been able to treat.

Somehow, she knew what to do. She eased Cynthia's pain with one acupressure massage, and the Andersons let her stay.

She was grateful to Collin for what he had done for her. He cared for her so gently that she fell in love with him.

Her hearing had finally returned, and most of the damage to her face had healed. She had also been trying to get past her aversion to touch so she could be close to him on their wedding night.

All this time, he had been sleeping with Zoe, his parents' adopted daughter. He had planned to use her to hide their affair. He thought she would be easy to fool.

Losing her memory hadn't made her stupid.

Now that she could hear, she knew one thing for certain. Collin's voice didn't belong to the man who had saved her from the wreck.

The door thumped steadily in front of her. Marissa's face hardened. She raised her leg and kicked it with all her strength.

The two people leaning against it lost their balance. Both cried out.

She didn't wait for them to come after her. She turned and walked away.

The car crash had left her with more than a ruined face and missing memories. A strange poison had stayed in her body ever since.

She had kept it under control for years with remedies she made herself, but she couldn't get rid of it.

To clear the poison for good, she needed to have sex with a man. Otherwise, it would remain in her system.

She had expected to be free from the poison after marrying Collin.

Now she couldn't bear the thought of him touching her.

Time was running out, though. If she didn't sleep with someone soon and clear the poison from her body, the next flare-up would kill her.

She ran through the men she knew, looking for someone she could turn to.

One name kept coming back to her: Shane Anderson. Collin's uncle was only six years older than he was.

She didn't know many people, and Shane was the only unmarried man among them. He was an Anderson, too.

Collin had made a fool of her. Marrying his uncle would give her a way to get even.

She would switch grooms at the wedding and make that cheating bastard call her Aunt.

Shane had his own problems, though. Leonard Anderson favored him over his other illegitimate children, but Shane had a reputation for chasing women and burning through money.

At least Shane made no secret of what he was like. He had dated more women than she could count, yet every one of his exes still had good things to say about him.

She could worry about that later. Her choices were limited, and she wanted to see what made Collin's uncle so special.

Marissa took out her phone and searched a local gossip forum.

Within minutes, she found out where Shane was.

He was at Crimson Lounge, Arcstin's most notorious place to waste money. Spending there started at one hundred thousand dollars per person.

The VIP suite was packed with wealthy young men enjoying themselves.

Club hostesses in revealing clothes lounged across the couches while the men touched them as they pleased.

One man sat apart from the rest on a sofa. He had his long legs crossed, and no one dared go near him.

He held a cigar between his fingers. Smoke rose past his face whenever the tip glowed, briefly hiding his sharp features.

One hostess tried to get close to him anyway. He pressed the lit end of his cigar against the back of her hand.

The faint smell of burned skin reached him, and he smiled at her screams.

A wealthy young man nearby waved her away. "Get out of here, idiot. Shane just broke up with someone. He doesn't want women near him right now."

Shane sighed and picked up his whiskey. He gave the glass a slow turn, though he didn't look upset in the slightest. "Tell me something, Declan," he whispered. "I loved her. Why did she have to go and ask me to marry her?"

Declan Hoffman had known Shane since they were children. He knew exactly how heartless his friend could be. Even so, the question caught him off guard. "Shane, she wanted to marry you because she loved you."

Shane looked at him from the corner of his eye. "I don't do commitment. I'm never getting married."

Both married men choked and spat out their drinks.

Laughter swept through the suite, and the jokes grew cruder as the drinks kept coming.

Everyone figured Shane was in no mood for a new fling.

Then someone pushed open the heavy door. A woman in a veil, a plain white shirt dress, and white sneakers walked into the VIP suite.

She looked out of place there. Her eyes narrowed in the dim light as she searched the room and found Shane.

No one had time to react. She went straight to him, settled onto his lap, and slipped her arms around his neck.

"Mr. Anderson," she called out, "I have an offer for you. Can we talk alone?"