His Fiancée Wanted My Eyes, But I Will Steal His Heir

Ariel Reed drifted back to the villa in a daze, the marriage certificate clutched in her hand. Sleep was a lost cause. Her mind spun with the same stubborn thought: Fiona’s suicide attempt had to be an act. But fear crept in anyway—not just fear of Brodie Wagner’s payback, but guilt, too. She’d put someone in danger for her daughter’s sake, even if that someone was Fiona.

“God, please, have mercy,” she whispered, curled into a corner of the bed, too terrified to even sob.

But mercy felt a million miles away. Dr. Dexter Fox called, his voice grim as he told her Fiona had indeed lost her sight. To stop Ariel and Brodie’s marriage, Fiona had tried to end her life with carbon monoxide. They’d saved her in time, but the trauma had stolen the vision she’d only just regained.

“Ariel, maybe you should come back. Capri doesn’t have a rare blood type. We’ll find a match…” Dexter’s voice faded as the hotel room door clicked open. Brodie stood there, key card in hand, a storm brewing in his eyes.

Ray’s voice vanished as the phone slipped from Ariel’s grasp. She went frozen, terror locking her in place at the sight of Brodie. She wanted to speak, to ask about Fiona, but the words wouldn’t come. Brodie’s advancing silhouette carried an unbearable weight, wrapping her in darkness, stealing the breath from her lungs.

“She’s blind,” he said, each word sharp as a blade. “So you won’t need to see this world either.”

His hand shot out. Ariel squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for a blow that never came. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and hauled her to her feet.

“Wait.”

She moved fast, scrambling for the phone she’d dropped, but Brodie gave her no time. His strength dragged her effortlessly toward the door.

“Wait, Brodie, let me grab my phone. I need my phone.”

She latched onto the doorframe, keeping him from dragging her out completely. Wherever he was taking her, she needed that phone—needed to stay reachable, to make sure Capri could always find her.

“You won’t need it anymore.”

Brodie pried her fingers off the door. Ariel fought him tooth and nail, clawing at the frame with hands and feet, desperate to get back inside.

She had no idea where he planned to take her, but the ice in his words made her fear the worst—losing her eyes, maybe even her life.

“What do you want? Where are you taking me? Let go of me—I won’t go with you! Brodie Wagner, you can’t force me! Help! Somebody help! Murder!”

Her screams echoed back at her. The villa lay dead silent, as if they were the only two souls inside its walls.

“This is my property. I cleared everyone out before I came.”

“Brodie Wagner, calm down. I never meant for anything to happen to Fiona…”

“Enough with the crocodile tears!”

He clamped a hand over her mouth. Her cheek slammed against her teeth, and the taste of blood flooded her senses.

His fingers brushed the blood from her lip with a contempt that barely hid his impatience. Then he grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Ah—”

The move knocked the breath out of her. It hit her then: her pitiful strength was no match for Brodie’s.

She clutched at his clothes as nausea churned in her empty stomach, the upside-down position making everything worse.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Brodie, put me down—listen to me first. Dr. Dexter Fox is renowned worldwide. He knows the top eye specialists. He can help. Fiona’s eyes still have a chance.”

But Brodie was deaf to her pleas. Rage drove him onward through the villa lobby.

“Please, calm down, Brodie. I’m begging you, calm down. Don’t be so quick to pass a death sentence on me…”

He tossed her into the backseat of his car, then lingered for a moment to whisper, “This pain is what you inflicted on her. For that alone, you deserve to be torn apart.”

“Are you going to kill me, then?” she asked, meeting the storm of his fury head-on.

“I won’t kill you. You’re not worth dirtying my hands for,” he said coldly. “And aren’t you most worried about your little one? Ariel Reed, I’ll lock you away. Give you a comfortable life. But you’ll never see her again, hear her voice, or know a single thing about her—not even when she dies.”

“You can’t do that…” Ariel shook her head in horror. “Brodie, you can’t… Let me out! Let me out!”

She shoved against him, trying to duck under his arm and bolt, but he forced her back into the car and slammed the door.

“Brodie, open the door! Let me out! You lunatic, let me out!”

She pounded on the door, hair wild around her face as she stared through the glass—a terrifying sight, the kind that would scare a child into tears.

Brodie climbed into the driver’s seat. When he saw her about to lunge forward, he hit the button for the partition, sealing her cries behind soundproof glass.

Trapped, Ariel went wild, pounding on the barrier with arms, legs, even her head. To Brodie, her howls were nothing but muffled noise.

But the raw despair in her screams didn’t give him the revenge he wanted. Not even close.

He floored the gas pedal, trying to drown out the turmoil inside him, but he kept one ear tuned to the silence behind him.

When the quiet stretched on for minutes, he figured she was up to something.

He thought he was prepared. But when he finally reached their destination, opened the door, and saw Ariel slumped back in the seat, tears sliding down her face without a sound, something inside him faltered.

It was too familiar…

Their first meeting had been like this—Ariel in the school health room, staring blankly at moths fluttering around the fluorescent light, tear tracks stark on her cheeks. When she’d looked at him, it was with a hopelessness so fragile it seemed like she might shatter on the spot. Even now, the memory left an ache he couldn’t shake.

“I was just wondering why you hadn’t crashed, driving like that,” she rasped, her voice ragged from screaming. “Same as when we first met. I wondered why you didn’t just walk away.”

Brodie remembered that night clearly. How he’d handed her tissues for no reason he could name. How he’d stood guard until morning.

“For a long time after, I thought that night was my salvation.” She let out a brittle laugh. “Now I see disaster is just as good at wearing disguises.”

“Brodie Wagner, you love pulling me out of the dark just to throw me into the abyss.”

Her small face tipped up to his, tears ready to spill over—a bruised, haunting beauty, a vulnerability he’d never been able to resist.

Otherwise, why would a man as solitary as him keep vigil all night for a stranger?

Ariel suddenly clung to his shoulder and, before he could react, leaned in and kissed him.

It stunned him. Several seconds passed before he shoved her away—only for her to drag him back down and throw him off balance.

His dark eyes stormed, disbelief barely hidden beneath loathing.

“Have you lost your mind?” he spat, furious.

Her warmth pressed against him, her scent invading his senses, making his breath come faster. He gripped the seat to push himself up, but Ariel’s arms wound around his neck and pulled him into another hungry kiss.

It wasn’t tender anymore. It was a storm—relentless, bruising. When he tried to pull back, her lips bit into his.

“Insane!” he cursed, swiping the blood from his lip, his face dark with anger. “Used to selling yourself, are you? Can’t wait to climb onto anyone who crosses your path?”

Ariel laughed, unfazed by his scorn, watching him with an unfathomable lightness.

“Brodie Wagner, you’re so handsome. Did you know? When we were together, seeing you always made me want to do this.”

“Shut up!”

Brodie’s voice trembled as he turned away, his pulse erratic.

“I won’t be silenced. If I don’t speak now, I may never get the chance to talk to you again.”

She stood slowly, the madness fading like a distant memory, melancholy settling back over her. “If there’s anything left to say, it’s for Capri and you.”

“I won’t be seeing Capri. But fortunately, you’re here.”

She got out and stood just behind Brodie. Her hand hesitated, aching to reach for him the way she used to, then fell to rest lightly against his back. Her voice was calm.

“Brodie Wagner, thank you for being part of my life. For showing me beauty.”

“One last thing—may I hug you?” she pleaded, unable to hold back the final request.

Without waiting for an answer, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his back. He didn’t pull away.

“Thank you…”

For a brief moment, her tears soaked through his shirt, burning where they should have been cold, making him want to flee. But the ghostly hold of her arms wouldn’t let him move.

He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed without a sound.

Ariel knew exactly how to stir the heart of a man who’d once loved her.

“Do you think tears will leave me helpless the way they did before? That I won’t know how to handle you?” He brushed her hands away and turned to face her, his eyes cold again.

“I know what you’re doing. No need for more theatrics.”

He seized her arm and strode toward the secluded manor tucked into the hills—a place with no other soul for miles.

So this was the end…

Ariel let her head fall, resentment giving way to exhaustion.

“If Fiona’s eyes can be healed, I’ll let you go once she regains her sight. From then on, you’re never to cross paths with us again.”

“If she stays blind, then I wish you a long life.”

With that, Brodie turned from her and slammed the manor door shut.

Ariel didn’t bother calling for help. From the moment Brodie made his decision—from the second he’d dragged her out of that room, breathing fire—she’d known pleading was useless.

Drained from the fight, she stumbled toward the sofa and collapsed before she got there.

There was still hope, some glimmer…

She crawled across the carpet, grabbed tissues from the table, and carefully wrapped the few strands of hair clenched in her fist—strands she’d snatched from Brodie’s head during their struggle.

Carefully, she tucked the precious bundle against her heart, as if an imaginary wind might snatch it away.

That done, she leaned her head back against the sofa and exhaled deeply, spent in body and soul.

She loved Brodie Wagner. But her feelings were far from the selfless devotion she pretended. His cutting words made her seethe. His refusal to acknowledge their daughter pushed her to the edge of airing everything online just to shame him.

But she couldn’t risk it. Her daughter was her Achilles’ heel. One misstep, and it could all come crashing down.

Despite all her caution, why had everything spiraled to this?

All she could do was cling to memories and use whatever scraps she had left to buy a fraction of mercy.

Yet there was still a chance.