The Fake Blind Heiress's Sweet Revenge

The room smelled of sweat, expensive perfume, and sudden, sharp fear.

Hilbert stood over Jaren, his shadow swallowing the smaller man completely. His jaw was clenched so tight the muscles ticked beneath his skin. He looked at Jaren not like a man, but like an insect he was deciding whether or not to crush.

Jaren pressed himself into the corner, cradling his broken wrist against his chest. His face was a mask of pain and arrogant fury.

"Do you know who I am?" Jaren spat, his voice trembling. "I am a Sweeney! I hired you off the street, you filthy piece of trash! I will have you killed for this!"

Hilbert let out a low, dark sound that was barely a laugh. He stepped forward, his heavy boots thudding against the hardwood. He reached down, grabbed the collar of Jaren's silk robe, and hauled him off the floor with one arm.

Jaren gasped, his feet dangling inches above the ground.

Hilary shrieked from the bed. She threw the duvet aside and rushed forward to help him.

Hilbert didn't even turn his head. He just shifted his dark eyes to her. The sheer, freezing violence in that single look hit Hilary like a physical blow. She stopped dead in her tracks, her legs giving out, and collapsed back onto the mattress, shaking.

Hilbert turned his attention back to Jaren. He dragged him out of the guest room. Jaren's bare heels scraped loudly against the expensive hallway runner.

Hilary scrambled to grab her clothes and her designer bag. She stumbled out of the room, crying hysterically, chasing after them.

Hilbert reached the front door and threw Jaren out into the private elevator lobby. Jaren hit the marble floor hard, groaning. Hilary ran out right behind him, dropping to her knees to check on Jaren.

"If either of you step foot in this penthouse again," Hilbert said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble, "I will break the rest of your bones."

He hit the button to close the elevator doors. He turned around, walked back inside, and engaged the heavy deadbolts. The loud clicks echoed in the silent apartment.

Aurora stood in the shadows of the hallway. She watched the broad, tense line of his shoulders. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

Hilbert turned around. The violent predator vanished instantly. His face softened, his shoulders dropping into a stiff, almost awkward posture.

Aurora reacted instantly. She dropped her gaze, letting her eyes go completely blank. She reached out and grabbed the white cane leaning against the wall, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the handle.

Hilbert walked toward her. His footsteps were light now, careful. He stopped a few feet away.

"Are you hurt?" he asked. His voice was deep, rough, but surprisingly gentle.

Aurora shook her head. She tapped her cane against the floor, moving it in a slow arc, testing him.

Hilbert didn't move his feet. He let the carbon-fiber tip of the cane tap against the toe of his boot. Then, he slowly reached out and wrapped his large, warm fingers around the middle of the shaft.

He didn't pull it. He just held it, offering a steady anchor. He guided her forward, walking perfectly in sync with her hesitant steps, leading her toward the living room sofa.

Aurora sat down on the plush cushions. She kept her face blank, but her mind was racing.

"I need to rest," she said, her voice tight. "Please."

Hilbert nodded, even though she supposedly couldn't see it. He stepped back, moving toward the kitchen area to give her space.

Aurora stood up and used her cane to navigate back to the master bedroom. She stepped inside and locked the door behind her.

She leaned against the solid wood, pressing her forehead against it. She dragged in a massive breath, her lungs burning.

She walked over to her desk. She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a stack of papers. It was the marriage proxy agreement Jaren had forced her to sign yesterday.

She flipped to the last page. There, in bold, aggressive handwriting, was the signature: Hilbert Sweeney.

She stared at the name. Jaren had told her he found a homeless man with the same last name to make the paperwork look legitimate. But the man in her living room didn't move like a beggar. He moved like a soldier.

Aurora lifted her left wrist. She tapped the screen of her smartwatch, activating the voice command.

"Call Gia," she whispered.

The watch beeped. A moment later, Gia Santos's voice filled the tiny speaker.

"Rory! Oh my god, I haven't heard from you in weeks!" Gia yelled, the sound of a busy Silicon Valley office buzzing in the background.

"Gia, listen to me," Aurora said, her voice dropping to a freezing, clinical tone. "Freeze every hidden account tied to the Russo Group. Cut off all my personal back-channels."

The background noise on Gia's end instantly vanished. The sound of rapid keyboard typing replaced it.

"Done. What happened?" Gia asked, her voice deadly serious.

"I need you to pull every financial transaction Jaren and Hilary have made in the last six months. Dig deep. Use the dark web if you have to."

"I'm on it," Gia said.

"And Gia," Aurora added, her eyes narrowing at the signature on the paper. "Run a background check on a man named Hilbert Sweeney. I want everything."

Aurora ended the call. She opened her laptop. She didn't look at the screen. She kept her eyes fixed on the wall, her fingers flying over the keys entirely by muscle memory. She drafted a brutal, ironclad prenuptial agreement, separating every cent of her hidden assets from her new legal husband.

Half an hour later, the smell of sizzling bacon and butter drifted under her door. Her stomach let out a loud, painful growl.

She closed the laptop. She picked up her cane, arranged her face into a blank mask, and unlocked the door.

She tapped her way into the dining area. Hilbert was standing by the counter. A plate of perfectly cooked eggs and bacon sat at her usual spot.

Aurora pulled out the chair and sat down. She picked up her fork, her grip tight. She took a bite, chewing slowly, her mind analyzing every move this dangerous stranger made.