Blind But Brilliant: The Pitied Bride With Hidden Faces

"I love you so much, Elsie. You're everything Khloe isn't—warm, soft, and you actually want to give yourself to me."

Bodies tangled across the king-sized bed, Leo Barnett's ragged breaths swallowed up by Elsie Norris's quiet, trembling moans as the mattress rocked beneath them.

"Come on, let me hear you," he murmured, fingers digging possessively into the curve of her narrow waist.

"No, Leo, we shouldn't…" she whispered, twisting beneath him. "This is supposed to be the room you and my sister share after the wedding. What if she walks in and catches us?"

Leo let out a low, amused laugh, brushing his mouth along her shoulder as he moved. "She won't. She's still wandering those wineries, hunting down that 'perfect bottle' I sent her for. Actually, I bought it days ago. It's the same one we finished earlier."

Elsie's breathless laugh floated through the hallway. "Oh my God, you're awful," she teased, her voice warm and intimate.

The sound hit Khloe Norris like a strike to the ribs—a cruel confirmation of the betrayal unfolding just beyond her reach.

She hovered at the bedroom doorway, the same room she and Leo were supposed to share. Her fingertips drifted over the edge of the half-open door, the wood cool beneath her touch.

Yet she didn't push it wider. She didn't burst in or unleash the outrage clawing at her chest.

What difference would it make? Even if she couldn't witness the depravity happening inside, the truth carved deep anyway.

She was blind. And in this moment, she felt far worse—she felt like a fool in the dark, foolish enough to love a man who never deserved her.

A year earlier, she had been hunting the lost perfume formula, Soul Resonance. That was when fate shoved Leo into her path—cornered by a convoy of black SUVs, desperate and outnumbered. She had thrown herself between him and danger, wagering her life for him and losing her vision in the aftermath.

Back then, he had clasped her trembling hands in both of his, his voice unsteady with emotion as he vowed to marry her. He had sworn he would stay beside her for the rest of his life and never let her face the world alone.

At nineteen, in those naive days, Khloe barely understood what love meant, yet her heart had latched onto Leo the moment she first laid eyes on him. That crash had ended up being both the first time—and the last time—she ever saw his face.

Khloe eased back a step, cradling the bottle of wine she had spent a small fortune and countless favors to obtain, especially since Leo had snagged one of the only two bottles in existence.

Before she could move, Leo's voice cut across the room again. "Elsie, it's always been you—the only woman I ever wanted to marry. I'm not wasting my life tying myself to that blind fool tomorrow."

His tone rose, dripping with arrogance. "The only reason I kept her around was for that freakishly sharp nose of hers—perfect little tool for my perfume business. Without that, I never would've agreed to my father's ridiculous plan to give some pitiful orphan a place in our home. And don't forget, she's a cast-off bastard, dumped in a countryside shelter. How could trash like her ever measure up to you? Oh, and about that stupid wager with the Elliott heir—I've already handed her over to him—my debt's paid in full. Just wait for tomorrow. It's going to be quite a show."

The blood vanished from Khloe's delicate features, leaving her ghost-pale.

Her sightless eyes remained fixed on nothing, yet the darkness closing in felt heavier than ever, as if even the faintest hope had slammed its door on her.

What a cruel joke she'd been living. This was the man she had been ready to spend her life with, the man she had protected and believed in without hesitation. And in this moment, she finally understood—every illusion shattered, revealing the monster he truly was.

Fingers tightening around her cane, she eased into the hallway and felt her way toward the staircase.

For a full year, she had memorized every inch of this house—the slope of each step, the smooth curve of the railing, the exact placement of every sleek piece of furniture.

Leo had padded every sharp edge back then, worried she might bump into something. That thoughtful attention—those quiet, tender gestures—had been what pulled her in, convincing her she was safe with him. She had fallen for the illusion completely.

Moving with slow, wary steps, she descended the stairs. Just then, her foot brushed against something out of place. She pitched forward, heart lurching—saved only by the firm catch of her cane.

Steadying herself, she crouched and swept her hand along the edge of the stairs.

Her fingertips grazed the delicate fabric—sheer lace threaded with tiny pearls—before recognition struck like a blow. It was a pair of lingerie panties.

They weren't hers. She had never owned anything so brazen.

A sick image rose unbidden, Leo and Elsie wrapped around each other on that bed, their bodies twisting in the dark she could no longer see.

The thought turned her stomach.

With a sharp, shaky breath, she flung the scrap of lace away as though it scorched her skin and hurried the rest of the way down the stairs.

Once she reached the first floor, she felt her way to the counter, fingers closing around a corkscrew and a wine glass. No ceremony. No decanting. She uncorked the bottle and filled the glass to the brim.

A quiet, bitter toast—to the blind, gullible fool she'd been.

The wine seared down her throat, leaving a trail of heat that did nothing to warm her hollow chest.

Moments later, the sound of footsteps echoed near the front door.

From the crisp warmth in the housekeeper's greeting, Khloe immediately knew who had arrived.

Corrine Barnett—Leo's mother. The woman who was supposed to become her mother-in-law.

A visit like this could only mean she'd brought the custom wedding gown.

Gliding in on sharp heels and wrapped in a sleek silk dress, Corrine swept into the room with two assistants trailing behind her. Her gaze snapped straight to the uncorked bottle and the stemmed glass resting in Khloe's grip.

That was the wine reserved for the wedding night. With icy precision, Corrine's tone cut through the air. "Do you have any idea how much Leo paid for that bottle—and you just drank it like it was nothing? What exactly do you plan to drink tomorrow?"

She then let out a brittle scoff. "Honestly, accepting a blind woman into the family was embarrassing enough. He's already made himself look ridiculous."

Khloe let the wine roll lazily around the bowl of her glass, a quiet smile tugging at her mouth. "It's mine to finish, after all. What difference does it make whether I drink it now or tomorrow? You sound a little tense. Need a drink yourself? There's still plenty—I'd be happy to pour you one."

Lifting the half-empty bottle, she extended it toward Corrine. A loose curtain of hair slipped over her shoulders, framing the striking lines of her face; her clouded eyes did little to dim her striking allure.

Corrine froze, caught off guard.

Gone was the meek, obedient blind woman she'd grown used to. This version of Khloe carried a quiet edge.

Still, with the wedding only a day away and a mountain of preparations pressing down on her, Corrine refused to ignite a fight. She signaled her assistants with a clipped gesture. "Take it. Your gown is here. It's been tailored a full size smaller than your usual measurements. Make sure you don't eat a thing tonight or tomorrow, or it won't fit. The media will be there in force, so do not humiliate us in front of the entire city."