My Wife Blinded Me for Love, Now I See Everything

Christian's POV

"Besides, Bella's death was just an accident. If you hadn't been playing hide-and-seek with her, she'd still be alive. And you've got the nerve to blame Austin?!"

There it was again.

Whenever something involved Austin, Jillian would change the story. Logic, decency, and even common sense didn't matter as long as her beloved stepbrother was part of it.

And this wasn't the first time.

I still remember the mango incident like it happened yesterday. Bella was allergic, and Jillian was aware of it. We'd told everyone, made sure the whole damn house knew.

And Austin? He still gave her mango slices behind our backs like it was nothing.

I barely got a word out when I confronted him.

That same night, Jillian flew back from a trip overseas, stormed into the house, and shoved a bottle of hard liquor into my hands.

She made me drink the entire thing.

It didn't matter that I was allergic to alcohol, too.

Within minutes, I was breaking out in rashes, gasping for air as my throat started to close up. I stumbled to the medicine cabinet, only to find it completely cleaned out. Not a single allergy pill left.

Jillian stood there with her arms crossed, totally unfazed.

"Austin just brought her some fruit, alright? Vitamins and stuff," she said, like that made perfect sense. "He was trying to be nice. Do you really have to make a federal case out of it? What kind of brother-in-law acts like this, anyway?"

Then she chucked a notebook at me.

"Write out the Schulz family rules. Ten times. No meds until you're done."

That night, I almost died choking on my own breath.

There were countless moments like that. I had been a fool to think Jillian would truly defend Bella or me.

Unable to forget those painful memories, I chose not to respond to her. I just kept moving forward, feeling my way through the dark until my hand found the stair railing.

But the second I grabbed it, my foot slipped. My knee slammed into the concrete with a crunch, blood pouring down my leg.

I heard the slight catch in Jillian's breath. For a moment, I thought she might actually get up.

But Austin beat her to it with a perfectly timed, tragic sigh.

"I really envy Christian," he said with this fake wistfulness. "He only had his eyelids sewn shut. When I lost my sight for a bit as a kid, the bullying was brutal. There were these kids... they shoved explosive salt in my eyes. The burning was unbearable."

Austin sniffled like a damn soap opera actor, letting a few crocodile tears roll down.

"After I got better, Mom and I moved in with the Schulz family. I thought the pain was over. I thought I'd finally be safe. But people still call me blind. Still mock me. It hurts, Jill. It really does."

Right on cue, Jillian's whole expression snapped cold.

"Christian," she said through clenched teeth, "you just had to bring up that word. You triggered him."

Then she turned to the butler.

"Go grab ten bottles of 99% pepper spray. Pour them into his eye slits."

Before I could react, the butler and the rest of those spoiled rich bastards pinned me to the floor. My eyelids had been stitched shut so tightly that they had to tear the skin to open them.

And then it began.

One bottle at a time, straight into my exposed, raw eyes.

The burn wasn't just surface-level. It tore straight through me, into the nerves, into the bone. My scream came from somewhere deep, almost animal. I couldn't stop it.

One of the rich kids laughed and grabbed a bottle, then forced it into my mouth.

"Let's clean that dirty mouth of his, too. Might make him think twice before talking back to Austin."

Austin added, "Hey, easy. If you mess up his throat, how's he supposed to apologize later?"

I coughed until I thought my lungs would tear themselves apart. Tears, spit, bile—it all poured out of me as I fought to stay conscious through the burn.

Still blind, still trembling, I searched until my fingers grasped a liquor bottle nearby. I threw it with all my remaining strength in Austin's direction.

"I don't want your fake sympathy, you murderer! You didn't just hurt me—you took a child's life. My daughter. Don't worry, she might just come for you in your dreams!"

However, the bottle lacked sufficient force or reach. It crashed harmlessly on the floor.

Austin let out a shriek and jumped straight into Jillian's arms like some helpless child.

"Jill, he really does hate me. He wants me dead. I'm scared. I wish I had caught Bella. I really do…"

Jillian stroked his back like she was comforting a crying child. Then she turned to me with pure venom in her eyes.

"Christian, you've seriously lost it. Blind and still causing trouble? And now you're trying to hurt Austin, too? Apologize. Right now."

I didn't say a word.

Instead, I turned and placed my foot on the staircase.

That's when Jillian's patience finally snapped.

"Bring in the beer cases." Her tone dropped several degrees below freezing.

Then, she pointed at me like I was a target in a carnival game. "Christian likes throwing bottles, huh? Good. Let's give him more. From now on, every single hit on him earns $10 million. No limit."

Everyone cheered with excitement.

Ten million per bottle. No cap.

And I was the prize.