The Comatose Billionaire's Secret Genius Bride

The heavy oak door slowly swung shut behind Kyler. The lock clicked into place, cutting off the light from the hallway. The room plunged back into the dim glow of the medical monitors.

Kyler took a slow step forward. His custom leather shoes squeaked slightly against the hardwood floor. He carried the arrogant swagger of a predator who knew his prey had nowhere to run.

Arletta scrambled backward. She let out a whimpering gasp, dragging her body across the floor until her spine hit the cold plaster wall. She pulled her knees to her chest.

Kyler laughed. It was a wet, ugly sound.

"Look at you," he mocked. "That cheap trash you're wearing is polluting the air in my house."

"I-I'm sorry," Arletta stuttered. She crossed her arms over her chest, trembling violently. Beneath her panicked exterior, her eyes locked onto his knees, calculating the exact physical distance between them. Three feet. Two and a half.

The door handle rattled. The door swung open again, and the sharp clatter of high heels broke the tension. Fernanda Wolf marched into the room, her designer dress swishing around her legs.

She spotted Arletta cowering in the corner and rolled her eyes in blatant disgust. Fernanda ignored her and walked straight to Josue's bed.

She reached out and stroked Josue's pale cheek.

"I am the only woman who belongs in this room," Fernanda announced. Her voice was thick with possessive obsession.

Kyler leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "She's just a cheap good-luck charm the old man bought. We can throw her out with the trash whenever we want."

Fernanda snapped her head toward Arletta. Her eyes were venomous.

"If you touch him with your filthy hands, I will cut your fingers off," Fernanda hissed.

Arletta nodded frantically. She bit her lip so hard she tasted copper, forcing fat tears to spill down her cheeks. She looked utterly broken.

Fernanda let out a satisfied huff. She turned and strutted out of the room, off to her afternoon high tea, leaving the door slightly ajar.

The room was quiet again. Kyler's eyes darkened. He pushed off the wall and closed the distance between them in two long strides.

He loomed over Arletta, his shadow swallowing her completely. The overpowering stench of his bourbon and heavy cologne made her stomach churn.

"Let's see what my brother bought," Kyler whispered. He reached his right hand down, aiming to grab her chin.

The second his fingertips brushed the air near her skin, Arletta let out a blood-curdling scream. She threw her upper body forward, ducking wildly as if trying to shield her face.

Under the cover of her frantic dodging, her right hand shot out, her knuckles striking the sensitive nerve point right behind his knee. His leg buckled instantly from the sharp, unexpected pain. It looked like nothing more than a clumsy, panicked flail of a terrified girl, but the angle and impact were flawlessly calculated.

Kyler's right leg instantly went dead.

His knee buckled. The sudden loss of motor function sent him crashing down. He landed hard on one knee right in front of her, his face twisting in shock.

Arletta scrambled out from under his arm. She sprinted to the open doorway, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Help! Somebody help!"

Kyler tried to stand up, but his right leg convulsed violently. It felt like a live wire was shooting electricity through his veins. He couldn't put an ounce of weight on it.

Two maids came running down the hallway, their eyes wide. They stopped in the doorway, staring at Kyler, who was kneeling on the floor, his face pale and contorted in pain.

"He-he just fell!" Arletta sobbed, pointing a shaking finger at him. "Mr. Kyler's leg cramped up! I'm too weak to help him up!"

Kyler bared his teeth. He opened his mouth to scream at her, but a fresh wave of agonizing cramps ripped through his thigh. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, looking completely ridiculous.

Two male servants pushed past the maids. They grabbed Kyler by the armpits and hauled him up. Kyler glared at Arletta with pure hatred, but he had absolutely no proof she had done anything.

They dragged him out of the room toward the medical wing.

Before leaving, one of the maids shot Arletta a filthy look. "Stop screaming over nothing," she muttered, pulling the door shut.

Arletta stood alone in the quiet room. The tears on her cheeks were still wet.

Slowly, the corners of her mouth lifted into a cold, mocking smile.

She walked over to the sink in the corner. She pumped a heavy dose of antibacterial soap into her palms and scrubbed the fingers that had touched Kyler until her skin turned red.

She dried her hands on a towel and walked back to Josue's bed. Her eyes were hard and focused.

She reached into her hair and pulled out the wooden pin. She needed to start the second round of deep nerve stimulation. This man was going to wake up, and when he did, he was going to tear this house apart.