Love the disabled tycoon
She thought she was marrying the handsome second young master of New York's most powerful family. Instead, she got his older brother, a cold and wheelchair-bound tycoon who wants nothing to do with her.
One wrong move, and her family loses everything.
Trapped in a gilded cage with a husband who pushes her away at every turn, Giselle has no choice but to stay. She tells herself this is just survival. But the closer she gets to Reid, the more she realizes something about him doesn't add up. Beneath the ice, there are moments of unexpected warmth. Beneath the darkness, there are secrets he will kill to protect.
What if the man who claims he cannot walk is hiding the truth?
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Chapter 5
"Yes, of course." Giselle nodded and made a note of it.
For now, she would help him choose clothes to wear tomorrow. Even though he wouldn't go out and no one would see what he was wearing, she still opened the wardrobe. Using her phone's light, she patiently selected an outfit for him.
After choosing the clothes, Giselle went into the bathroom to prepare the bathwater for him. Help him bathe. She bit her lower lip, telling herself to think of him as a regular patient she was nursing. She mustn't overthink, and she certainly couldn't get nervous and blush.
Before assisting Reid with his bath, she wanted to shower first, lest she end up unable to wash like the previous night. She adjusted the water temperature. Because it was so dim, she accidentally knocked over several bottles while trying to distinguish the shampoo on the shelf.
She pulled a bath towel around herself and picked up all the bottles that had fallen on the floor. A voice spoke up beside her ear. "What are you doing?"
The voice was cold and indifferent. She knew it was Reid entering in his wheelchair. After putting the items back, she looked at him. "It's nothing, it's just too dark in here. I accidentally knocked things over."
To Reid, this kind of light wasn't considered dark. He could see Giselle clearly, taking in her appearance with her wet hair and the towel wrapped around her body. Although she was thin, she had curves where they were supposed to be, especially where the edge of the towel was tucked. The front seemed ready to spill over. Her delicate figure possessed an undeniable, hidden allure.
Reid said calmly, "Who told you to bathe first?"
Giselle was slightly stunned. Hearing his angry tone, she didn't dare speak further, fearing another argument with him. Seeing the flustered look on her face, Reid frowned and looked away. "Clean the bathtub again."
"Alright." She hurried to follow his command. She wanted to put on clothes before cleaning, but after taking just one step, she stepped on the spilled liquid and lunged forward.
She didn't fall to the floor. Instead, her face landed on Reid's lap, coinciding perfectly with the space between his legs. Suddenly, a voice erupted from above, laced with sky-high rage. "How much longer do you plan on lying there?"
His body was changing; she could clearly feel it being so close to him. Giselle braced herself and pushed away from him. Her face felt hot, as if it were burning with fire.
"Don't expect a paraplegic like me to be able to satisfy you," Reid warned in a cold voice, while simultaneously suppressing the rising anger within him.
Giselle understood the implication of those words. If she wanted to stay with the Theophilus family, she had to be prepared to live like a widow. However, her fall had been an accident; she hadn't even thought about doing such a thing with him.
Giselle bit her lower lip as she watched Reid maneuver his wheelchair out of the room. Did he think she was that kind of woman, driven by unsatisfied desire?
At noon, she had still been eating with him and could occasionally exchange a few words. She had thought this state would continue and improve, but she didn't expect that by evening, everything would return to a frozen silence.
After cleaning the bathtub, Reid wheeled himself back into the bathroom and would not allow her to follow. She worried he might fall; his legs were unsteady, and there were no crutches for him to hold onto. Outside the bathroom, she simply stood and waited. The moment he called her, she would go in.
"Come in here."
Sure enough, Reid called her into the bathroom. She opened the door and saw that he had already finished washing his hair, but his clothes were still on. She stepped forward and said in a low voice, "Could you turn off the fluorescent light as well?"
It would be much better if she didn't have to see anything.
Reid glanced at her. "Are you sure you can still see if all the lights are turned off?"
"I don't need to see."
Reid pressed a button on his automated wheelchair. His wheelchair was specially designed; it could control the lights in the house and possessed many functions he required.
Without the LED lights, everything in the room became even more invisible. Her hands moved blindly, fumbling around. Reid did not intend to turn on the lights. She breathed heavily in her anxiety, and his own breathing gradually became erratic.
Finally, Giselle touched his waist, but she couldn't undo the belt. She tugged at it for a long while. When she looked up, she felt a cold pair of lips brush against hers. She hurriedly pulled away. Before he could get angry, she apologized. "Sorry, I didn't mean to."
"There is no need to explain. You are my wife. Even if it were intentional, it is legal." Reid said softly.
The warm, sweet scent of her lingered on his lips. Her lips were soft, and the taste was not bad.
Giselle was stunned. A moment ago, he had been giving her cold warnings; now, he wasn't angry but was telling her she was exercising her legal rights. The rumors that the young master of the Theophilus family was a man of a volatile temperament were indeed true.
Accidentally kissing his lips was better than accidentally kissing him somewhere else. Her face had never felt so hot. Fortunately, he undid the belt himself. She pulled his trousers down and removed them. Seeing his undergarments, she hesitated for a moment before grasping the waistband and pulling them down.
In the darkness, Reid's eyes were locked onto her flushed face.
Giselle used all her strength to support Reid into the bathtub. Her hands fumbled around to find the towel. After scrubbing his back, she handed the towel to him. "You wash the front."
For a moment, she didn't hear the man respond, nor did he take the towel from her hand. This silence meant she was to continue bathing him.
As she touched him, she felt firm muscles everywhere without a hint of excess fat. He didn't seem like someone who didn't exercise at all. Reid had been in a wheelchair for over six months and didn't work out; furthermore, his sister Skye had mentioned he ate very little. Giselle frowned, finding it quite strange.
While bathing him, she specifically pinched him a few times to check if he still had sensation. Reid closed his eyes, enjoying her hands moving over him; it was even more comfortable than a massage.
"It's finished." Giselle placed the towel back in its original spot.
"Mhm. Help me up." His voice was somewhat lazy, not as cold as usual.
Giselle reached out to support him. He stood very tall; her head couldn't even reach his shoulder. Giselle struggled to support him, especially as she wanted him to step out with one leg. She leaned down slightly and used her hands to lift his leg.
With the weight pressing down on her, she truly couldn't stand firm. She wobbled and then fell. The fall was not light. Her body crashed into his arms, and the heavy impact left her internal organs aching with pain. With him beneath her acting as a cushion, she knew he must be hurting just as much as she was.
Reid wanted to turn on the lights now, but the control switch was on his wheelchair. There should have been a small desk lamp above the bathtub. Reid reached out and touched the switch. An orange light shone down from above, much brighter than the LED. Following the light, she looked at what was in front of her. Her line of sight was directly level with his chest.
Suddenly, her face burned like fire. She braced herself, wanting to get up from him in her embarrassment, but the bathtub was too small. She had to find something to lean on to stand up, and her legs didn't know where to find purchase to support her body.
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8.7
On her eighteenth birthday, Elinor thought she was finally an adult. But a single text message reminded her she was just property.
Boyd Walker, the ruthless billionaire who dictated her every breath, threw a contract onto her bed. He had bought her adoptive father's medical debt—one billion dollars. And she was the sole collateral.
The punishment for even a hint of rebellion was catastrophic.
When her disabled friend tried to check on her, Boyd had his good leg shattered in front of a live security feed just to teach her a lesson.
When she fought off an entitled frat boy at school and came back with a bleeding arm, Boyd didn't comfort her.
Driven by a twisted, suffocating jealousy, he held her under a freezing bath, then tied a red thread with a silver bell around her ankle.
"You are a pet that needs to learn its boundaries."
Every time she moved, the high-pitched ring was a humiliating reminder of her gilded cage. The billion-dollar debt was a chain she could never break, and the monster holding the leash would destroy anyone who dared to help her.
Stripped of her money, her friends, and her dignity, Elinor lay completely still in the dark room for three days, refusing all food and water.
If Boyd wouldn't give her freedom, she would take the only thing she had left to control—her own death.
7.7
CONTENT WARNING ⚠️🔞
This book is strictly for a mature audience only. Reader's discretion is advised.
On her eighteenth birthday, Sabrina's life is stolen from her. She was sold into marriage to Scott Wendell, a ruthless and powerful billionaire more than twice her age. A man she's never met. A man who claimed her as payment for a debt she never owed
But the real problem wasn't the vows she took or the marriage document she signed.
It's his son. The revelation that Ace Wendell, the one boy in school that she's always fantasized about, the boy she's secretly loved from afar, is now her stepson.
Now living under the same roof, Sabrina finds herself torn between duty to her marriage and the dangerous pull toward the stepson who has wanted her just as desperately.
8.5
Synopsis
It still feels so unreal being dumped by my boyfriend at the courtyard on the day of our wedding.
David didn't show up and when I called him to know the reason why.
He told me right to my face that he had found love with another woman who happened to be my best friend.
My heart was shattered into a million tiny pieces.
I was wallowing in self-pity when I overheard Lucas talking on the phone about needing a replacement for the woman who has collected a part-payment to be his wife.
I agreed to be his wife without thinking twice wanting to get back at my Ex.
What would happen when two strangers' hearts intertwined?
And what started as an arrangement became a bedrock for something real?
Read to find out.
8.2
For five years, I was the invisible glue holding Damien Crawford together. I was the one who pulled him from a burning car until the skin melted off my back, and I was the one who donated bone marrow when he was on death's door. I even gave up a full-ride scholarship to MIT just to be his nurse.
Yet, he believed his mistress, Hadley, was his savior. To him, I was just the maid's daughter who changed his bedpans—a piece of furniture he could abuse while he planned his wedding to another woman.
But his cruelty didn't stop at verbal abuse. When my father suffered a massive heart attack, Damien refused to let me use the car, choosing to comfort Hadley over a fake panic attack instead.
His mother even slashed the tires to ensure I couldn't leave.
While my father died cold and alone, Damien stabbed a needle into my hand just to teach me a lesson about "respect," oblivious to the fact that the scars on my skin were the receipt for his life.
He didn't know he was torturing the only person who had ever truly loved him. But the girl who begged for crumbs of affection died along with her father that day.
I picked up my phone and dialed the number saved simply as a dot.
"He's dead," I whispered to the man on the other end—Anderson Morrison, the city's most feared Don and my sworn protector.
"I'm coming," he replied, his voice lethal. "And I'm bringing the army."
It was time to show Damien that he hadn't just mistreated a maid; he had declared war on a Queen.
7.7
Silas Vane, a billionaire on the edge of ruin, needs his ex-wife's signature to save his tech empire-and June Ashby, his scorned orchard-owning ex, wants only one thing: to make him suffer.
The deal is brutal, simple, and non-negotiable: Silas must move back to their small hometown, trade his silk suits for calloused hands, and work the orchard harvest for six months. Worse? He has to play her doting husband for the press-fake marriage, real contract, no room for error.
What starts as a revenge-fueled game quickly spirals. As the sun dips below the orchard trees, old sparks reignite, and the line between fake and real blurs into something dangerous.
Silas came to town for a patent to save his empire. But he might just walk away with a broken contract-and a heart completely owned by the woman who set out to destroy him.
7.9
The rain was a solid sheet of gray as the black SUV rammed into my car, sending me spiraling over the guardrail. As the glass shattered and the world turned upside down, a searing pain ripped through my chest before everything went cold and dark.
I didn’t stay in the darkness. My spirit hovered ten feet in the air, watching the steam hiss from my mangled sedan.
I followed the magnetic pull of my soul back to my family estate, expecting to find them devastated. Instead, I found my stepmother, Florene, and my sister, Kassidy, pouring vintage champagne and laughing in the drawing room.
"To the end of the nuisance," Florene said, her eyes gleaming with greed. "The trust fund unlocks at midnight. We're finally rich."
The betrayal cut deeper than the metal that killed me, but the real shock came at my funeral. Hiram Tyson—the cold, masked husband I’d spent three years fearing—collapsed over my closed casket. He unbuckled his silver mask, revealing a face ruined by scars, and sobbed a name I hadn't heard since childhood.
"I'm sorry, Angel. I thought keeping you at arm's length would keep the darkness away."
He wasn't the monster I thought he was. He was the boy I had saved at the orphanage years ago, and he had been protecting me in silence while my own family plotted my murder.
I reached out to touch him, but the world exploded into a blinding white light.
When I opened my eyes, I wasn't in a casket. I was back in our bedroom, feeling the heavy weight of Hiram’s arm across my waist. The calendar on the nightstand read September 14, 2023—exactly one year before the crash.
I looked at the silver mask resting on the table and felt a cold, hard determination settle in my chest. This time, I wasn't going to be the victim. I was going to be the villain in their story and burn their world to the ground.