SAMHAIN

The Silent Heiress's Million Dollar Gambit

Maui

My stepmother’s bodyguards were seconds away from dragging me back to a life that was essentially a prison cell wrapped in silk. I couldn't even scream for help because the words always died in my throat—a clinical condition called selective mutism that felt like drowning on dry land. I had just discovered the sickening truth: my father was planning to sell me to a sleazy investor named Sterling to cover his company’s bankruptcy. They were going to drug me, ship me off to a private island, and strip away the only thing I had left—my late mother’s multimillion-dollar art trust. When I arrived at the manor, my stepmother Lydia handed me a glass of wine laced with bitter sedatives, her smile sharp as a razor. "Drink up, darling. It’ll make the transition to Mr. Sterling much easier." My stepsister Harper stood in the corner, wearing a dress bought with my mother’s stolen money, mocking my inability to speak. My father didn't even look me in the eye as he calculated my price tag, treating his own daughter like a piece of damaged, mute inventory. They thought because I didn't speak, I didn't hear them laughing about the "accident" that killed my mother or how they planned to burn her final restoration work. They assumed my silence was a sign of surrender, a white flag waved by a broken girl who would never fight back. How could the people who were supposed to be my family treat me like a commodity to be traded? Did they really think my silence meant I was weak, or that I didn't know every dirty secret they were hiding in their ledgers? I didn't drink the wine. Instead, I burst into the VIP suite of Carlisle Pierce, the most cold-blooded billionaire in New York, and slammed a crumpled napkin on his table with a desperate, last-second gambit. "MARRY ME. NOW. $1 MILLION."

Romance Revenge Contract marriage Billionaire Girl Power

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"You're pregnant, ma'am. Congratulations!"

Cheryl Naylor walked out of the hospital in a stupor, but the doctor's remarks continued to play in her head.

When she glanced at the pregnancy test report in her hand once more, her face creased into a sudden smile.

It was the third year of Cheryl and Jarred Fuller's marriage.

They wed not because of love but to fulfill the last request of Jarred's grandmother.

However, Jarred was a wonderful husband once they were married, doing everything a spouse should do. He made sure Cheryl lived a good life and took good care of her. Every year on their anniversary, he would ask his assistant to send Cheryl a gift.

He treated her with the utmost respect and dignity that a wife deserved.

It seemed to everyone else that they were the sweetest and most loving couple.

However, it was a far cry from reality.

Cheryl kept to herself that Jarred did not utter a single "I love you" to her in the past three years they spent together.

Nonetheless, she fervently wanted to marry him, and she was already content with just having his company and presence in her life. She hoped their happiness would only increase now that they were expecting their firstborn.

Cheryl cautiously tucked away the pregnancy test report and eagerly dialed Jarred's number.

"Cheryl."

The man's deep and pleasant voice could be heard via the phone. It had a soothing tone to it.

Cheryl couldn't keep her enthusiasm from coming through, and her voice reflected it. "Jarred, I've got some news for you!"

"I've got something to tell you, as well. Let's talk about it later tonight."

"Okay..."

But before Cheryl could finish her sentence, the call was abruptly ended.

She didn't know what to think at first, but the pleasure of her first pregnancy soon took over.

Night came fast as the sun started to sink lower in the sky.

Bright lights illuminated the River Villa.

Cheryl prepared a feast of Jarred's favorite dishes as she waited for him to come back.

Before long, a car pulling up on the driveway could be heard outside.