The Blind Billionaire's Hidden Genius Wife

The Quinn mansion was under siege.

Beatrice Sterling didn't knock. She didn't ring the bell. Her security team simply pushed past the sputtering maid.

Jerome and Lydia were in the living room, drinking champagne, celebrating the "sale" of Sera. They froze as Beatrice swept in, bringing the cold air with her.

Mrs. Sterling! Lydia stood up, plastering a nervous smile on her face. What a lovely surprise. We were just-

Beatrice picked up the champagne bottle and smashed it onto the coffee table. Glass and expensive bubbles exploded everywhere.

Jerome yelped and jumped back.

You think I'm a fool? Beatrice hissed. You sent me a defective product. A lying, manipulative little stray.

Lydia went pale. Sera? What did she do?

She's an embarrassment! Beatrice shouted. But she's a Sterling now. And because she's a Sterling, her shame is my shame. And I blame the source.

Tiffany walked in, chewing gum. What's going on? Did the blind freak send her back already?

The room went dead silent.

Beatrice turned slowly to look at Tiffany.

What did you call him?

Tiffany rolled her eyes. Harrison. The blind freak. Everyone knows it.

Beatrice snapped her fingers.

The bodyguard closest to Tiffany stepped forward. He didn't hesitate. He swung his hand-a heavy, open-palm slap that connected with Tiffany's cheek like a thunderclap.

Tiffany spun around and hit the floor. She screamed, clutching her face. Blood trickled from her lip.

My baby! Lydia shrieked, dropping to her knees beside her daughter.

Beatrice looked down at them with absolute disgust.

Disrespect the Sterling name again, and she loses the tongue.

She turned to Jerome, who was shaking so hard his knees were knocking together.

For the insult of sending me that girl, and for raising such a vulgar creature as this one... Beatrice pointed at Tiffany.I'm taking five percent of Quinn Enterprises. Transfer the shares by morning, or I pull all Sterling capital from your accounts. You'll be bankrupt by noon.

Jerome gasped. Five percent? That's... that's millions!

Consider it a penalty fee.

Beatrice turned and marched out.

Lydia held Tiffany, rocking her. Her eyes were filled with venom.

Sera did this, Lydia hissed. She turned them against us.

She grabbed her phone. She dialed a number.

Hello? Is this The Daily Mail? I have a scoop. The new Mrs. Sterling... she's abusing her disabled husband. I have proof.

At Sterling Manor, Sera was sitting on the floor of the bedroom, surrounded by delivery boxes. She was humming.

Harrison was in his chair, listening to an audiobook at double speed.

You're cheerful, he noted.

Sera checked her phone. A contact named "Ghost" had just texted her: Quinn stock dropped 5%. Tiffany Quinn admitted to ER with facial contusion.

Just reading the news, Sera said. It seems karma has a really quick delivery service.

Harrison smirked. Beatrice?

Beatrice.

Good, Harrison said.