The Unwanted Wife's Secret Genius Identity

The study door was yanked open from the inside. Alex stood there, glaring at Catherine under the harsh hallway lights.

Arjun's wheelchair stopped right in the doorway. His blind eyes stared straight ahead, but his head tilted slightly, locking onto her exact position.

Catherine forced her body to tremble. She took a jerky step backward.

"I-I'm sorry!" she stammered in her thick, nasal country accent. "I was just looking for the kitchen to get some water. This place is so big, I got lost."

Alex frowned, looking at her cheap cotton sweatpants and her hunched posture. He looked unconvinced.

Arjun let out a harsh, mocking breath. "Pathetic," he spat. "Get her out of my sight."

Catherine kept her head down and hurried past the doorway to escape.

As she walked past Arjun's wheelchair, the motion of her body pushed a small wave of air directly across his face.

Arjun's nostrils flared. His head snapped toward her.

He smelled the faint, crisp scent of rain mixed with the sharp, sterile bite of medical alcohol. It was the exact same scent that had clung to the skin of the woman in the safe room.

His brain flashed with the memory of the dark. His hand shot out.

His fingers clamped around Catherine's wrist like a steel trap.

Catherine stumbled, crying out as the brutal force nearly pulled her down onto his lap. Her heart slammed against her sternum.

Arjun yanked her arm, pulling her body flush against the side of his chair. He buried his face near the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply like a starving animal.

"What are you doing?!" Catherine shrieked, struggling against his grip, keeping her accent thick and panicked.

Alex stepped forward. "Sir, maybe we should-"

Arjun threw up his free hand, silencing Alex instantly.

"Why do you smell like that?" Arjun demanded, his voice a lethal whisper. "Who the hell are you?"

Catherine's mind raced. She needed a flawless lie.

"I spilled the first-aid alcohol!" she cried, tears of fake panic welling in her eyes. "I was cleaning the bathroom in the guest room and knocked the bottle over! And I left the window open, the rain blew in on the rug! I'm sorry!"

Arjun's jaw tightened. The logic was sound. A thunderstorm was currently raging outside over Manhattan.

But his paranoia was deep. He didn't let go. Instead, his large hand slid up her arm, moving toward her waist.

He was looking for the deep, jagged scar on her hip. He had felt it in the dark last night. If his fingers touched that scar, she was dead.

His hand brushed the hem of her shirt.

Catherine gasped loudly. She violently doubled over, clutching her stomach, and dropped to her knees on the carpet. She ripped her arm out of his loosened grip.

Arjun froze, his hand hovering in the empty air. "What kind of trick is this?" he snarled.

Catherine curled into a tight ball on the floor, shivering. She bit her lip and let out a pathetic whimper.

"It's my time of the month," she sobbed, her voice thick with fake humiliation and pain. "The cramps are killing me. Please, just let me go to bed."

The words hit Arjun like a physical blow. His face went completely rigid.

His mind calculated the biology. The woman from last night was a wildfire of heat and slick readiness. She was absolutely, biologically not experiencing a severe menstrual cycle today.

The excuse was biologically plausible, yet utterly repulsive. It didn't erase his suspicion, but it muddled the scent trail. He filed the data point away, a dissonant note in a growing symphony of questions about her. A wave of intense disgust washed over his features. He wiped his hand on his trousers as if he had touched garbage.

"Call a maid," Arjun ordered Alex, his voice dripping with revulsion. "Get this mess out of my hallway."

He spun his wheelchair around and rolled back into the study, slamming the door behind him.