Married To The Fake Comatose Billionaire

Morning sunlight poured through the massive glass dome of the estate's sunroom, casting geometric shadows across the lace tablecloth. Justice sat at the round table. She wore a simple white knit sweater. She held a silver fork, slowly eating a piece of melon. Outside the glass walls, three black, bulletproof Maybachs rolled to a stop on the edge of the lawn. Four men in dark, tailored suits stepped out, clutching thick leather briefcases. The butler escorted the men into the sunroom. They stopped a respectful distance from Eleonora, who sat opposite Justice. The lead lawyer opened his briefcase. He pulled out a thick stack of documents bound in a blue cover. He handed it to Eleonora with both hands. Eleonora didn't even glance at the cover. She slid the heavy stack across the table. It stopped right next to Justice's teacup. Justice put her fork down. She looked at the bold black letters printed on the top page: Aguirre Holdings Group. "I am transferring five percent of the group's non-voting shares to your name," Eleonora said, her voice smooth and calm. The lawyers behind her stiffened. One of them sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. Justice's eyes flicked to the lawyers, then back to the paper. Five percent. That was billions of dollars. Derek Barnes would have sold his own organs for a fraction of a percent. "This was the dowry promised to your mother in the original pact," Eleonora explained, her eyes softening as she looked at Justice. "It belongs to you." Justice felt the warmth in Eleonora's gaze. It was genuine. Justice didn't feign humility. She didn't gasp or shake her head. She reached out, took the heavy gold fountain pen the lawyer offered, and signed her name on the dotted line. The lead lawyer stared at her. His eyes widened slightly at her absolute lack of hesitation. She signed away billions as if she were signing a receipt for coffee. Eleonora smiled. The deep wrinkles around her eyes crinkled. She liked this girl's spine. The lawyers packed up the signed documents, bowed deeply, and left the sunroom. Eleonora reached across the table and covered Justice's hand with hers. "Go see him, Justice," Eleonora pleaded softly. "Sit with him. Talk to him. I know your presence will bring him back to us." Justice looked at the old woman. An image of Auguste's perfectly still, arrogant face flashed in her mind. Justice's lips curved into a sharp, terrifying smile. "I will take very good care of him," Justice promised. Justice stood up. She left the sunroom and walked down the long, carpeted hallways toward the medical suite. When she reached the heavy steel door, the two armed guards stepped aside immediately. Eleonora had given her absolute clearance. Justice stepped inside. The door hissed shut behind her, sealing the room. She didn't walk to the bed. She walked straight to the electronic control panel on the wall. Her fingers danced across the keypad. She input a manual override sequence. The heavy deadbolts inside the door slammed into place with a loud, metallic clack. The room was locked from the inside. Justice turned around. She walked to the corner of the ceiling. She reached up and yanked the power cord out of the security camera. The red recording light died. Three floors below, in the subterranean server room, a massive monitor flashed crimson. CRITICAL ERROR: MEDICAL SUITE FEED LOST. DOOR LOCK OVERRIDE. Silas bolted upright, his heart slamming against his ribs. He slammed his hand onto the intercom button, grabbing his sidearm with the other, ready to dispatch the tactical team. Before he could shout the order, a sharp, double-burst of static crackled in his earpiece. It was the mattress sensor. Stand down. Silas froze, his hand hovering over the panic button. He stared at the red error screen, a drop of sweat rolling down his temple. The boss was intentionally trapping himself in a blind room with the new girl. Justice dusted off her hands. She turned and walked slowly toward the bed. Auguste lay perfectly still. But his enhanced hearing had picked up the sound of the deadbolts locking and the cord snapping. Under the sheets, Auguste's heart gave a violent, heavy thump against his ribs.