The Billionaire's Broken, Voiceless Wife

The moment his eyes turned to her, Amelia regretted it.

She shouldn’t have asked him.

But the words were out. She had to finish.

She didn’t want to die owing anyone.

“Amelia, say that again.”

“Give—no, no. Lend. Lend me… some money. Just sixty-eight hundred dollars. Please?”

Sixty-eight hundred dollars wouldn’t even buy one button off his shirt.

But it could save her life.

Elliot’s gaze turned icy cold. “Lend? What will you use to pay me back?”

She froze. Her hands slowly clenched at her sides. She had nothing.

The money she had saved, the funds, the properties—all taken back by the Rollins family and put in Elyse’s name after her identity was exposed.

And the jewelry that had been left for her? Her biological parents had sold it.

Her lips trembled for a long moment before she finally forced out, “I can… sell…”

Before she could say *blood*, Elliot’s expression changed—turned terrifying.

“Amelia, you really are that cheap.”

Rage burned hotter inside him.

The woman who had once been so proud—who had stalked him, cornered him, sabotaged his business deals—was now willing to sell her body for sixty-eight hundred dollars?

Had she changed? Or was this her true nature?

“No… that’s not… you misunderstood. I meant sell—”

She tried to explain, but the more flustered she got, the more she stammered.

The next moment, his hand gripped her chin, forcing her head up to meet his suddenly close face.

His eyes gleamed with cold fury, flaying her inch by inch.

“Sixty-eight hundred for a night? Hah. You’re not worth that much.”

Shame crashed over her.

Her eyes reddened. She opened her mouth to explain, then realized—it didn’t matter what she said. He had already decided what kind of person she was.

All she had done these years was explain. Explain misunderstandings. Explain right and wrong. Explain cause and effect.

No one ever believed her.

She fell silent, her head drooping, her eyes hollow.

He took her silence as admission. Rage surged higher.

Then he laughed—a cold, humorless laugh. “Fine. I’ll give you the money.”

She stirred, looking up at him with a flicker of hope.

“You. Come here.”

Elliot called over one of his men and said flatly, “Kiss him.”

The room went dead silent.

Amelia’s shoulders shook. She thought she had misheard.

“What’s wrong? Isn’t this what you wanted? Can’t do it?”

He was still humiliating her.

The last shred of her dignity was ground under his heel.

But then… she stopped caring.

She had lost her innocence long ago. She wouldn’t live much longer. What did it matter who she kissed?

She limped forward, one step at a time, toward the bodyguard.

The man broke out in a cold sweat, frantically looking at his boss, praying he would take back the order.

This was insane. No matter what, Miss Mcpherson was still his wife in name. How could he do this?

When she stood in front of the bodyguard and slowly rose onto her toes, about to kiss him—

Elliot’s eyes grew darker and darker, fixed on her.

“Enough! You’ve gone too far!”

The college student who had been silent until now rushed over and pulled Amelia away, stopping the whole ugly scene.

Elliot’s hand, which had been half raised, dropped back to his side. He shoved it into his pocket, his expression cold.

“How can you humiliate her like this?”

The student, full of righteous indignation, couldn’t stomach it.

Amelia was terrified that she would be dragged into this. She knew too well what Elliot was capable of. If he targeted this girl, she was done for.

“I’m… fine. It’s okay. Don’t… don’t get involved!”

“You’re really sick! And he’s doing this to you! Isn’t he your—”

Before she could say *husband*, Amelia clamped a hand over her mouth.

Her face was ashen. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please… don’t blame her. I’m sorry.”

Elliot’s lips curled. “The extra you hired has a lot of nerve.”

Amelia’s breath caught. She knew he held grudges. He wouldn’t let this student off.

She gritted her teeth and shoved the girl hard. “Go! Get out! You don’t… have to pretend anymore. Just go. I’ll pay you… later. Go!”

The student tried to protest, but when she met Amelia’s eyes, she stopped.

They were pleading—desperately.

And in her hand, Amelia pressed something heavy. It felt like gold.

Finally, the student left.

Amelia barely managed to stay on her feet. She forced back her tears and murmured, “You’re right. I was… acting. I lied. I’m sorry. Blame me… not her.”

She was already covered in filth. A little more didn’t matter.

Elliot was unsurprised. “Four years in there, and you haven’t changed at all.”

She nodded numbly. “Yes. I was… wrong. I admit it.”

The more she gave in, the more unsettled he felt.

He told himself it was disappointment.

She was rotten to the core. Spoiled. Willful. Even after her true identity was exposed, she hadn’t changed. She still tried to take everything Elyse had.

Status. Love. The token. Everything.

He had been disappointed and disgusted, so he sent her to Westcliff.

Westcliff Rehabilitation Center was well-known. Its treatments were scientific, safe, and effective. It had an excellent reputation.

He had personally looked into the facility. It was as good as any Nursing home—with reasonable programs. And it was expensive.

But she didn’t appreciate it. She came out and went right back to her dirty tricks.

“Take her away.”

His men escorted her out.

They had barely left when a doctor arrived with police officers.

“She was in here. She’s covered in injuries. Severe. It must be domestic abuse. And she’s missing—”

But the room was empty.

Before sending Amelia back to Westcliff, they stopped by the city clerk’s office to file for divorce.

Unfortunately, it was the weekend. No one was working.

Elliot frowned and looked at Amelia. His voice was cold. “Monday. You’ll stay with the Rollins family until then. Don’t do anything stupid.”

She didn’t respond.

He didn’t need her response. He had her taken back to the Rollins house.

When Elyse learned that the divorce wasn’t finalized yet, anxiety prickled inside her. “Elliot, are you sure you’re not having second thoughts about my sister? If you are, I don’t mind. I’ll step aside.”

His expression softened. “Don’t overthink it. The office was closed for the weekend. We’ll handle it Monday.”

Elyse pouted, putting on a coy expression. “Are you sure it’s not a problem for you?”

“No. Don’t worry.”

Amelia tried not to look at that scene—tried not to see the rare gentleness on Elliot’s face.

Elliot Hardin had always been aloof and cold to everyone, harsh and hostile to her. But with Elyse, he showed a tenderness he never showed anyone else.

She swallowed her bitterness and dared not feel jealous.

Elliot had other business. He left Amelia behind.

As soon as he was gone, Elyse dropped her fragile act and showed her true malice.

“Amelia, look at yourself. You look like a beggar. What do you have to compete with me?”

She stepped closer, sniffed exaggeratedly, and made a face. “You stink! Don’t you dare come inside. You can stay out there.”

Elyse pointed at the doghouse by the gate, her eyes full of mockery.