Marrying The Crippled Billionaire For Revenge

Avery Blackburn sat in the darkness of the garden path. The motorized wheelchair hummed beneath him, a beast of carbon fiber and steel.

He wasn't paralyzed. His legs worked fine. But the chair was a perfect prop. People became invisible when they sat in a chair. No one looked at the cripple; they looked over him.

He adjusted the earpiece in his left ear. The directional microphone pointed at Genevieve's open window was picking up every word.

"Better a monster you can use..."

Avery's lip curled. Another gold digger. Another woman looking to climb his broken body to get to his bank account.

"Do you want me to intervene, sir?" Liam's voice came through the comms. Liam was standing fifty feet back, hidden in the shadows.

"No," Avery whispered. "Let me listen."

He watched through the gap in the hedges. He saw Aurelia. She was beautiful, in a tragic, disheveled way. Wet hair, cheap coat, eyes red from crying. But her jaw was set. She looked desperate.

Desperate people were useful.

"I can't just walk up to him and ask him to marry me," Aurelia was saying inside the room. "He's... he's supposed to be mentally compromised."

"Then he'll be easy to manipulate," Genevieve argued. "Just get the ring. Get the name. Then we use his lawyers to freeze Richard's assets."

Avery laughed silently. Manipulate me? Good luck.

But then, a thought struck him. The SEC investigation was getting close. They were digging into his personal assets. If he were married... if he had a wife who acted as a legal proxy... it would create a layer of bureaucratic armor. Spousal privilege.

And if everyone thought he was a drooling invalid, and his wife was a desperate, money-hungry socialite... no one would suspect he was actually orchestrating the hostile takeover of his own company from the shadows.

She was perfect. A disposable shield.

"Liam," Avery said. "Set it up. I want to meet her."

Inside the room, a monitor started beeping rapidly. Genevieve was coughing, clutching her chest.

Aurelia moved instantly. It wasn't the frantic movement of a granddaughter; it was the precise, efficient movement of a doctor. She adjusted the oxygen flow, checked the pulse, elevated the head of the bed.

"Breathe, Gigi. In through the nose. Hold. Out."

Avery watched her hands. Steady. Capable.

The door burst open. A nurse ran in. "Ms. Blanchard, you have to leave! Security is on the way up!"

Aurelia kissed the old woman's forehead. "I'll fix this, Gigi. I promise."

She grabbed her bag and ran for the patio door. It was the only way out without passing security.

She slipped out the sliding glass door and into the garden. She ran down the path, right toward Avery's hiding spot.

She rounded the hedge and skidded to a halt.

She was three feet away from him.

Avery slumped instantly. His head lolled to the side. He let his mouth hang open, forcing a vacant, glassy stare into his eyes. He let a line of saliva pool at the corner of his lip.

Aurelia stared at him. She was breathing hard.

"Mr. Blackburn?" she whispered.

He didn't answer. He just stared past her, twitching his hand on the armrest.

Most women would have looked away in disgust. Dominique certainly would have.

Aurelia didn't. She stepped closer. Her eyes scanned him-not with pity, but with clinical observation.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue.

"You have a little..." she murmured.

She leaned down. She wiped the saliva from his chin. Her touch was gentle, professional. As her fingers brushed his jaw, a jolt went through her. His skin has good turgor. His muscle tone feels... firm for a man bedridden for months. And his pulse, I can feel it humming against my fingertips, it's too strong, too steady...

A shout from behind her, "Ma'am, stop right there!" shattered her train of thought.

She turned and ran into the darkness, disappearing toward the back gate.

Avery sat up straight. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand, looking at the crumpled tissue she had left in his lap. It smelled of antiseptic and rain.

His eyes narrowed. She hadn't flinched. And she had noticed something. He was sure of it.

"Liam," he said into the mic. "Get her file. Everything. From kindergarten to the medical board hearing."