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The Blind Billionaire's Hidden Genius Wife Novel Cover

The Blind Billionaire's Hidden Genius Wife

My father didn’t look at me like a daughter; he looked at me like a bad loan he needed to settle. After five years of being nothing but a monthly expense on his ledger, I was shoved back into the Quinn mansion, smelling the expensive lavender that masked the rot beneath the floorboards. He slammed a prenuptial agreement onto the mahogany table and gave me a heartless ultimatum. "Sign it and marry Harrison Sterling, or I call the care facility in ten minutes and tell them to pull the plug on your mother's life support." My stepmother Lydia told me I should be grateful for this "future," while my stepsister Tiffany kicked a bag with her old, hideous wedding dress at my feet. They told me I was born for nothing but to pay off their debts. I was shipped off in the rain to the Sterling estate, a stone fortress where the housekeeper treated me like a servant and locked me in a pitch-black room. Inside, my new husband—a man rumored to be a blind, unstable monster—hurled a crystal glass at my head and tried to strangle me with his bare hands. I could feel the tremors in his grip and the sickly-sweet smell of neurotoxins on his breath. I realized then that Harrison wasn't the master of this house; he was a specimen in a jar, being systematically poisoned by his own family while cameras watched his every move. My own father had sold me into a death trap, thinking I was just a desperate girl with nowhere else to go. But they didn't know I had been living a double life as a medical prodigy who graduated from Johns Hopkins at nineteen. I pinned my "monster" husband to the floor, pulled a set of silver acupuncture needles from the hem of my dress, and made him a deal. "I’ll give you your eyes back, and in exchange, you help me burn both our families to the ground."
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Chapter 4

The bedroom door didn't just open; it was assaulted.

Beatrice Sterling, the Grand Dame of the family, marched in. She leaned heavily on a cane topped with a silver eagle, but she moved with the energy of a tank. Behind her trailed Sophia Sterling, Harrison's aunt. Sophia looked soft, wearing cashmere and pearls, but her eyes were scanning the room like a shark looking for blood.

So this is it? Beatrice pointed the cane at Sera. This is the trash the Quinns sent us?

Sera dropped her head. She hunched her shoulders, making herself look smaller, frailer.

Look at her. She's shaking like a leaf. Beatrice turned to the two massive bodyguards behind her. Get her out. Send her back. I'm voiding the check. This is fraud.

The guards stepped forward. One grabbed Sera's arm. His grip was bruising.

No! Please! Sera squeaked. She looked at Harrison.

Harrison sat on the bed, his face blank. He was going to let them take her. If she left, her mother died.

Sera yanked her arm free. She threw herself onto the floor at Harrison's feet, wrapping her arms around his legs. She buried her face in his knee.

Harrison! Don't let them take me! Not after last night! she wailed.

The room went dead silent.

Sophia stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. What about last night?

Sera looked up, tears streaming down her face. She made sure her cheeks were flushed.

We... we consummated the marriage. I'm his wife. In every way.

Beatrice looked like she had swallowed a lemon. Impossible. Harrison is... incapacitated.

Sera pointed a trembling finger at the bed. The sheets were rumpled. And right in the center, a small, dark reddish-brown stain marred the white Egyptian cotton-the result of Sera using the tip of a hidden needle to draw a bead of her own blood from her fingertip just moments before they entered.

Sophia looked at the stain. She looked at Sera. A flicker of calculation crossed her face. If Harrison had actually slept with her, annulling the marriage would be messy. Public. And if the girl was pregnant...

Harrison felt the heat of Sera's body against his legs. He felt the way her hands were gripping him-not in fear, but in warning. She was playing them.

He hated Beatrice. He hated Sophia. And this girl... this girl was lying through her teeth with the skill of a sociopath.

He decided he liked it.

Let her go, Harrison said. His voice was low, dangerous.

Beatrice bristled. Harrison, don't be stupid. She's a gold digger.

She's my wife, Harrison said. And she stays. Unless you want to explain to the press why you're dragging a weeping woman out of my bed the morning after my wedding?

Sophia put a hand on Beatrice's arm. Mother. Leave it. If he wants the stray dog, let him keep it. It won't last a week anyway.

Beatrice glared at Sera. You. One toe out of line, and I will destroy you.

They turned and left, the guards following.

The moment the door closed, Sera released Harrison's legs and stood up. She wiped her face with the back of her hand. The tears stopped instantly.

Harrison smirked. Nice performance, Mrs. Sterling.

Sera smoothed her dress. You too, Mr. Sterling.

Why did you lie? Harrison asked.

Because I need to stay here. And you need someone who isn't trying to kill you.

Harrison's smirk vanished. What makes you think you can stop them?

Sera walked to the window and watched Beatrice's car drive away.

I don't just want to stop them, Harrison. I want to make them pay. But we need a real deal. No more lies between us.

She turned back to him.

I have a proposition.

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