The Fake Blind Heiress's Sweet Revenge

Hilary's hand sliced through the air, carrying the full weight of her spite. Aurora didn't blink. She kept her eyes perfectly unfocused, staring at the blank wall behind Hilary. But as the palm closed in on her left cheek, Aurora shifted her weight. She tilted her upper body just a fraction of an inch to the right. Hilary's hand swung through empty air. The momentum threw Hilary off balance, causing her to stumble forward in her high heels. In that exact second, Aurora let out a high-pitched, terrified scream. "Don't hurt me!" She gripped her cane with both hands and swung it wildly in front of her, mimicking the panicked, uncoordinated thrashing of a blind person under attack. But the arc of the swing was mathematically precise. The heavy, carbon-fiber shaft whipped through the air and slammed directly into Hilary's shin bone with a sickening, hollow thud. Hilary shrieked like a slaughtered pig. Her legs gave out instantly, and she collapsed onto the hard hospital floor, clutching her leg and sobbing in agony. "You crazy bitch!" Jaren roared. He lunged forward, his hands reaching out to grab Aurora's shoulders. Aurora kept screaming. She took a step back and swung the cane again, bringing it up in a sharp, upward diagonal strike. The tip of the cane caught Jaren squarely across the side of his face. The impact snapped his head to the side. A bright red welt instantly bloomed across his cheekbone, a thin line of blood welling up where the carbon fiber had broken the skin. Jaren staggered backward, clutching his face, his eyes wide with shock and pain. Eleanor gasped in horror. She dropped her Birkin bag and dropped to her knees to check on the wailing Hilary. Aurora took a tiny step forward. The sharp heel of her shoe came down hard, directly onto the center of Eleanor's dropped Birkin bag, crushing the expensive leather. The commotion echoed down the hallway. Two hospital security guards in dark uniforms sprinted around the corner, shouting for everyone to step back. Jaren pointed a shaking, bloody finger at Aurora. "Arrest her! She assaulted us! She's a lunatic!" Before the guards could even reach them, a massive, burning-hot hand clamped down on Aurora's shoulder, pulling her firmly backward against a solid, muscular chest. Hilbert stood there. He had ripped the IV needle out of the back of his hand; a drop of blood was running down his knuckles. His face was pale from the fever, but his eyes were black, bottomless pits of pure violence. The sheer, suffocating pressure radiating from him hit the hallway like a shockwave. The two security guards instinctively slowed their pace, their hands hovering near their radios. Hilbert stared down at Jaren. "My wife is blind," Hilbert said. His voice was terrifyingly calm, a low rumble that vibrated through Aurora's back. "You dare raise a hand to her? Get away from her. All of you." Jaren shook with rage. "She hit me! Look at my face!" Hilbert took one step forward. The murderous intent rolling off him was so thick it was hard to breathe. Jaren flinched, taking a step back, his courage completely collapsing. Eleanor, realizing that causing a scene in a public hospital would ruin the Russo family's reputation, grabbed Jaren's arm. She hauled Hilary up from the floor. "We are leaving," Eleanor hissed, glaring at Aurora. "This isn't over." The three of them limped away, humiliated and bleeding. Hilbert watched them disappear around the corner. He didn't say a word. He didn't ask how a blind woman had managed to land two perfect, devastating strikes. He just wrapped his large hand around Aurora's wrist and pulled her gently down the hall toward his private room. He pushed the door open, guided her inside, and let go of her hand. The moment the door clicked shut, Aurora reached behind her back. She found the deadbolt and turned it. The heavy metal lock snapped into place with a loud clack. Hilbert turned around, his dark eyebrows pulling together in confusion at the sound. Aurora took a deep breath. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, but her mind was crystal clear. It was time. She lifted her head. The empty, vacant stare vanished instantly. Her pupils contracted, focusing sharply and directly onto Hilbert's dark eyes. Aurora carefully leaned her white cane against the side of the hospital bed. It settled quietly against the metal frame, remaining within easy reach. She straightened her spine, rolling her shoulders back, shedding the fragile victim persona like a cheap coat. She looked him dead in the eye. "Yes," Aurora said, her voice cold, steady, and dripping with authority. "I can see." Hilbert swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. He stared at her, his mind clearly racing to process the lie she had been living. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. Aurora took a step closer to him, invading his space. She tilted her head up, her eyes burning with ambition. "Because I need an ally," she said. "And you, my fake husband, need money."