My Tyrant Husband Blackmailed Me To Stay

The Wheelers’ permanent home was in Geneva, and most of Grant’s closest friends lived in Switzerland, France, or the United Kingdom. The Reyes family knew them only through mutual business contacts. On paper, the family appeared impeccable.

Richard and Linda Wheeler had been married for twenty-six years. Their marriage was known to be complicated but enduring. Grant was their only child and the sole heir to a multinational investment group.

To Natalia, the arrangement seemed almost too fortunate.

To Reece, that was exactly why it deserved suspicion.

After the incident at the observation pavilion, Grant brought Elaina to a quiet lounge overlooking the garden. Because she was still a minor, the door remained open, and Linda’s assistant sat within sight on the adjoining terrace.

Fruit, tea, and honey cakes had been placed on the table.

“Are you feeling better?” Grant asked.

“Yes.”

“Your face is still red.”

Elaina reached for her tea. “I’m embarrassed.”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about a phobia.”

“That is easy to say when you aren’t the one sitting on the floor in front of everyone.”

A smile touched his mouth. “Fair point.”

Near the window stood a small potted cherry tree. Grant told her he had planted it from a pit as a child.

Elaina examined it skeptically. “This looks professionally grafted.”

“You wound me.”

“I’m only being honest.”

He picked several cherries and placed them in a dish. “Try one.”

The first bite was shockingly sour.

Elaina’s eyes watered, but Grant watched her with such interest that she forced herself to swallow.

“Well?” he asked.

“Memorable.”

His mouth twitched. “That bad?”

“You try one.”

“I already know what they taste like.”

“Then you deliberately gave me the sourest fruit in the garden.”

“I wanted an honest review.”

“You should have warned me.”

He laughed, and this time there was no mistaking the mischief in it.

Elaina pushed the dish toward him. “You may finish your harvest.”

Grant ate one, immediately grimaced, and reached for his tea. Elaina stared at him, then began to laugh.

It was the first time they had laughed together.

Later, Grant suggested they return to the viewing platform, but Elaina refused.

“I’m not ready.”

He opened his mouth, perhaps to argue, then stopped.

“Alright.”

The answer surprised her.

Five years later, Elaina would remember that afternoon differently. At fifteen, she saw a confident young man teasing her, apologizing when he went too far, and respecting her refusal.

What she did not understand was that Grant viewed almost everything as a test. He liked discovering how far people could be pushed before they resisted. Elaina’s patience fascinated him, but he mistook gentleness for compliance.

He did not hate her.

That would have required stronger feeling than he was willing to admit.

To Grant, the proposed marriage was initially another carefully negotiated arrangement: respectable family, compatible wealth, excellent reputation, beautiful future bride.

Elaina was suitable.

At twenty, Grant believed suitability was enough.

Love, in his opinion, was unreliable, inconvenient, and unnecessary.