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The Billionaire's Broken, Voiceless Wife Novel Cover

The Billionaire's Broken, Voiceless Wife

After four years of agony in a rehabilitation center, I emerged broken and voiceless, only for my husband Elliot to demand a divorce. He and my adoptive family view my horrific injuries as a desperate act for attention. While my sister Elyse secretly admits to orchestrating my torture, my parents brand me an animal. Even as I face terminal lung cancer, Elliot dismisses the diagnosis as my most pathetic lie, blind to the truth of my suffering.
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Chapter 2

Elliot's eyes were cold, his face twisted with disgust. "You never learn."

Amelia, her head covered in blood, tried desperately to explain: "Elliot, it was... her! She told them... at the center... to beat me! They broke... my leg! Pulled out my nails!"

He sneered. "Oh? I thought you said you got sick and they rotted. Amelia, how many more lies are you going to tell?"

She choked, unable to speak.

Mrs. Rollins helped her daughter up, her eyes full of concern. "Elyse, are you all right? Does it hurt?" When she saw the finger marks on Elyse's neck, her face flushed with anger. "Amelia! How could you do this to Elyse? She's always thinking of you, caring about you. She even went to the center to bring you food-and this is how you repay her?"

Visit? Bring food?

Amelia suddenly remembered the monthly electric shock punishments. Her voice trembled. "Every month... on the seventh?"

Mr. Rollins looked at her with disappointment. "Amelia, you know Elyse visits you every seventh. She cares about you, looks out for you. And this is how you treat her? We should have let you go to prison back then. Atone for your crimes."

Four years ago, she had been accused of hit-and-run, nearly facing jail time. The family had paid a large settlement to get a letter of forgiveness.

But she hadn't done it. The "evidence" was fabricated. No one believed her.

Then Elyse had said, "Sister has gone bad. Maybe a rehabilitation center will help her become a better person." And Amelia was locked up in Westcliff for four years.

"Dad... Dad! She's not... kind! She didn't come to... visit me! She came to... punish me! She-"

"Enough! I'm not your father. I don't have a daughter with a venomous heart like yours. We never should have let you out. Driver, take her back."

Amelia looked at her adoptive parents, who refused to believe her, and the light slowly faded from her eyes.

How had she forgotten? She was no longer the beloved eldest daughter of the Rollins family.

She turned stiffly to Elliot and forced out the words, "What... do I have to do... to not go back?"

The entire Rollins family depended on the Hardins. Elliot's word was law.

His gaze was icy, his voice low and sharp. "Apologize to Elyse."

She looked at Elyse, who was leaning tearfully against Mrs. Rollins, her eyes red.

Apologize?

But what had she done wrong?

She hadn't chosen to be switched. She hadn't done those things. She hadn't planned to climb into his bed...

One by one, every accusation crushed her. She had fought, she had pleaded, but no one believed her.

It didn't matter anymore.

Slowly, she knelt in front of Elyse, murmuring, "I was... wrong. I'm sorry."

*Thud.*

Her forehead hit the floor hard.

"I was wrong."

*Thud.*

An apology, a kowtow.

She ground her last shred of dignity into the dust.

Soon, bloody prints marked the floor.

Elyse's eyes glittered with satisfaction, but when she saw Mrs. Rollins' expression soften slightly, she quickly helped Amelia up.

"Sister, I don't blame you. Get up. I know you didn't mean it. I forgive you."

Mr. Rollins looked pleased. "Elyse is so kind-hearted. Even after all this, she still cares about her sister."

Amelia no longer resisted or denied. Darkness pulsed at the edges of her vision, and she could barely stand.

But pain shot through her arm-Elyse's sharp nails digging into her flesh like knives.

"Sister, let's get along from now on."

Amelia nodded, enduring the pain.

Mr. Rollins glanced at the time. "It's getting late. Let's take care of business first."

Elyse's eyes lit up, but she put on a hurt expression. "Elliot, would this ruin your marriage? Maybe we shouldn't..."

Elliot's voice softened slightly. "Don't worry. It should have been you all along."

Amelia's head snapped toward him. *Should have been you?* What did that mean?

The Rollins and Hardin families had no marriage agreement. It had been her, Amelia, chasing Elliot for ten years. She had given up hope-and then he suddenly agreed to marry her.

She had just escaped her biological parents and was barely surviving with the Rollins family. She had been overjoyed, thinking Elliot had finally seen her worth.

Then she was framed for climbing into his bed, and he reneged on his promise.

Old Mr. Hardin had forced him to go through with it. They had signed the marriage certificate in secret-no wedding, no announcement. She was like a shameless stray dog.

He grew to hate her more each day. That brief warmth had come out of nowhere and vanished just as fast.

Elyse said shyly, "Elliot, I don't mind."

He reassured her with a few words, then gathered the documents and took Amelia away.

Mr. Rollins took his daughter's hand. "Elyse, the future of this family rests on you. Don't mess it up."

Compared to the unloved Amelia, Elyse-whom Elliot clearly favored-was the better choice. Mr. Rollins preferred her too.

The car headed toward the city clerk's office.

Amelia stared blankly out the window at the passing scenery-familiar and strange.

After four years locked away, the outside world had changed completely. She didn't even have a phone. The Rollins family had taken all her documents and belongings.

She caught a whiff of smoke. Turning, she saw him light a cigarette and instinctively shrank back.

She remembered he hadn't smoked before.

"Bother you?"

She shook her head quickly. Who was she to complain?

But her body betrayed her. Her throat itched, and she began to cough.

Once she started, she couldn't stop-as if she would cough out a lung.

Elliot's face darkened. "Stop the car."

The car pulled over.

"Get out."

The driver followed orders, yanked her out, and left her on the roadside.

"Walk. If you're late, you know what happens."

The car sped away.

She bent over, coughing violently, and a stream of warm liquid shot from her mouth.

She looked down at her hand-covered in blood.

Last winter, she had been left outside all night in the cold. She'd developed a high fever that never fully healed. Her lungs were damaged. She couldn't handle smoke.

Slowly, she straightened up and limped forward.

The sun was setting.

Outside the city clerk's office.

Elliot's shadow stretched long. The setting sun cast a warm glow over his handsome face, but it couldn't melt the ice in his eyes.

He turned and walked away.

He didn't know that a hundred meters behind him, someone shouted, "Someone help! A woman collapsed!"

Amelia had fallen-a hundred meters away from him.

As the Cullinan rolled past the crowd, Elliot glanced out the window. His phone rang.

His expression softened as he answered, and at that exact moment, the crowd lifted Amelia up and carried her past his window.

An ambulance siren wailed. She was rushed to the hospital.

When she woke up, it was the next day.

She saw the doctor's serious, grave expression and felt dread crawl up her spine.

"Contact your family and have them come to the hospital as soon as possible. Your condition is critical."

"Doctor... what's wrong with me?"

"You have lung cancer. The cancer cells have spread."

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