Blinded by Betrayal,The Billionaire's Vengeful Wife

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Three years into my marriage, I stumbled upon the truth about my blindness.

Breathless, intimate sounds spilled from the study.

Every drop of blood in my body ran cold as I heard Stephanie Fox's coy, wheedling voice.

You gave me Joanna Pruitt's corneas. How come you won't give me the title of Mrs. Mercer?

Dominic Mercer's laugh was dripping with indulgence.

"You already have me and the baby. Why bother fighting her over a title?"

"Think of it as my way of making it up to you for staging that car accident and taking her corneas."

Bile surged up my throat. I gripped the pregnancy test in my hand until my knuckles ached.

After the accident stole my sight, I could never pick up my beloved paintbrush again. I'd wanted to end it all. Slashed wrists. A rooftop ledge. A fistful of sleeping pills.

It was Dominic who held my hand through the darkness, who married me against his parents' wishes and swore he'd take care of me for the rest of my life.

I pressed my hand over my mouth to keep from retching and dialed that number.

"Mr. Sanchez, if you can help me get my eyes back, I'll restore that painting for you."

Tristan Sanchez agreed without hesitation.

"Give me three days. Once I'm back in the country, I'll have an answer you'll be satisfied with."

I braced myself against the cold wall and felt my way back to the bedroom, guided by nothing but memory.

I had barely sat down when Josephine Lambert came in carrying a bowl of herbal broth.

"Mr. Mercer is going to be so happy when he hears the little surprise."

My throat was parched. I had no idea how to respond.

Josephine didn't notice anything off. She placed the spoon in my hand, her tone wistful.

"If it weren't for that accident all those years ago..."

A frigid male voice cut her off before she could finish.

"Josephine, didn't I tell you never to bring that up again?"

I fell into a warm embrace.

Dominic touched my hands and squeezed them, his voice laced with concern.

"Why are your hands so cold?"

Josephine hurried to pass me the warm broth, her brow furrowed deep.

"Here, hold the bowl to warm your hands. With the preg"

My heart leapt into my throat. I cut her off before she could finish.

"Josephine, you can go now."

Warm breath grazed the side of my neck. Dominic squeezed my palm gently.

"Keeping secrets from me?"

I forced the corners of my lips upward and slipped my hand from his, casual enough not to raise suspicion.

"Just something small. Nothing worth troubling you over."

Only moments ago, I had believed I was the luckiest woman in the world.

A husband who didn't resent me for my blindness. Tender and attentive in every way.

After three years of acupuncture and careful conditioning, my body had finally cooperated, and I was carrying our baby.

But now I saw it for what it really was: a cold, hollow lie.

Tears streamed down my face before I could stop them.

Dominic noticed the shift in my mood immediately. He fumbled to wipe my cheeks dry.

"Sweetheart, are you hurting somewhere?"

I fought to contain the ache splitting open inside my chest, my voice cracking.

"Dominic, the driver who caused the accident... he really went to prison, didn't he?"

He kissed the shell of my ear, his voice low and coaxing.

"Of course. Anyone who hurts my wife doesn't get an ounce of mercy from me."

My nails dug crescents into my palms. I wanted nothing more than to rip that mask off his face and scream every question burning inside me.

He had told me Stephanie Fox was his late mentor's orphaned daughter, that he only thought of her as a little sister.

He would never betray what we had.

But the moment Stephanie moved in, Dominic used her blind right eye and her fear of the dark as an excuse to move me out of the master bedroom, the one with the best light in the house.

He had forgotten.

Back when he was first starting his company, thugs came looking for trouble. I shielded him and lost an eye for it.

My vision had been weak ever since. The moment daylight faded even slightly, the world dissolved into nothing.

After I moved to the smaller bedroom, I was constantly stumbling, my body mottled with bruises.

So his heart had already started to stray, even back then.

That was why I had to take my eyes back. It was the only way I could protect my baby.

Dominic warmed my hands and feet, then had Josephine make me a bowl of my favorite lean pork congee.

He fed me himself, spoonful by spoonful. I couldn't taste any of it.

Light footsteps echoed down the hallway.

At the same time, a cloying wave of perfume hit my nostrils.

The man beside me inhaled sharply, his breathing turning heavy with unmistakable desire.

I reached toward the source of the scent and asked him on purpose.

"Dominic, did someone come in?"

He grabbed my hand in a panic, his voice tight. "Careful. Don't knock over the bowl."

He used the excuse of setting the bowl down to lift me off his lap.

A faint, breathy whimper brushed past my ear.

I couldn't see what was happening. All I heard was the bathroom door slamming shut.

Water splashed violently inside. Dominic was in there kissing Stephanie.

He kept his voice low, teasing and playful. "You took advantage of the fact that Joanna can't see, walking in here without a stitch on just to seduce me."

The girl panted, her voice dripping with coyness. "Don't pretend you don't like it. Your body certainly doesn't lie."

Through the haze, I heard the crisp jingle of tiny bells.

It felt like someone had carved a piece out of my heart with bare hands. I fumbled my way to the vanity.

I yanked open the drawer and found the small, square box.

But when I opened it, there was nothing inside.

That was the heirloom locket my grandmother had braided for me with her own hands before she died. I had kept it right there.

I ran my fingers over every inch of the box, inside and out. It was gone.

The sound of bells clinking together came from the bathroom again.

I couldn't stop shaking. That was the exact sound of the bells on my grandmother's heirloom locket.

A memory flashed through my mind: the day Stephanie first came to the house.

She had spotted the locket around my neck and asked me for it.

I refused. Dominic called me petty.

He knew exactly what that locket meant to me, and he still stole it to make Stephanie happy.

Every last trace of warmth drained from my heart. I understood now that there was no place left for me in Dominic's world.

The noises from the bathroom went on for a long time.

The door creaked open. I turned toward the sound.

Everything was still pitch black, but I could feel the wave of heat rolling toward me.

Dominic carried her out in a hurry, not forgetting to feed me an excuse on his way past.

"Working late tonight. Don't wait up. Get some sleep."

I stared coldly toward the sound of his voice.

"Dominic, my heirloom locket is missing."

His reply was clipped with impatience. "I really do have something urgent. I'll help you look for it when I have time."

The door slammed. Stephanie's triumphant laughter echoed down the hallway.

I pulled the wedding ring off my finger. My lips twisted into a bitter smile, and I tossed it aside.

That ring was the first gold band Dominic ever bought me. He'd stood in the snow handing out flyers for two months to afford it.

Gold was eight hundred eighty-eight dollars for ten grams, and ten grams was what he gave me. It cost us a full year's rent.

I scolded him for spending so recklessly and insisted we return it.

But Dominic kissed me, deep and tender.

"Joanna, I swear I will never let you suffer for being with me."

Yet from the day he brought Stephanie home, I had suffered more than I could count.

I curled up helplessly against the headboard.

Josephine finished clearing the dishes and lingered, wanting to say something but holding back.

"Ma'am, some things... it's better to let go. Love is the least important thing."

So she had known all along.

Three years of trust collapsed in an instant. I bit down hard on my lower lip to keep from crying out loud.

I didn't know how much time passed before I gripped the edge of the bed and stood.

"Josephine, take me to the studio."

"I need to be alone for a while."

Josephine dropped me off at the studio and left.

I ran my fingers over the oil paintings hanging on the walls.

After I'd helped Dominic build his company from the ground up, he knew how much I loved painting. He'd spent a fortune sending me abroad to study.

He was clingy back then. He'd call me every day, and we'd talk for three hours straight.

I used to stare at his handsome profile on my phone screen and sketch him on paper.

The entire studio was filled with portraits of Dominic.

I traced the texture of the oil paint, and something inside me cracked. I wanted to tear every single one of them to shreds.

The door creaked open behind me. I buried my emotions.

"Josephine, didn't I tell you not to disturb me?"

A girl's coy laughter rang out from behind me.

Stephanie walked over and took my hand, pressing it against her slightly swollen belly.

Her words coiled around me like venom, each one sinking its fangs into my heart.

"You've already figured it out, haven't you, Joanna?"

"Dominic stopped loving you a long time ago. Honestly, why didn't you just die in that car accident?"

Something splashed against my ankles. The sharp, unmistakable smell of gasoline filled the air.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I grabbed Stephanie's hand in a panic.

"What are you doing?"

The click of a lighter.

Seconds later, thick smoke clawed at my throat and I doubled over coughing.

Everything around me turned scorching hot.

I couldn't see. My hand brushed against a burning easel by accident.

Pain ripped across the back of my hand, and I gasped through clenched teeth.

Stephanie laughed, a sharp, taunting sound, and squeezed my hand tight so I couldn't run.

"Today, I'm going to show you exactly who the woman Dominic truly loves is."

The smoke thickened. I couldn't stop coughing.

The oxygen in my lungs was running out. My legs buckled and I collapsed to the floor.

The door shuddered with a deafening crash.

Dominic's voice, frantic.

"Joanna! Are you okay? Don't be scared. I'm coming to get you."

He called my name again and again.

When I didn't answer, his voice grew more desperate.

The instant the door burst open, Stephanie yanked me backward and crumpled to the ground.

"My stomach... it hurts so much..."

A fragile, pitiful whimper.

The footsteps that had been charging straight toward me faltered the moment Stephanie cried out, then changed direction entirely.

A brutal, dragging pain tore through my lower abdomen. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I screamed his name with every ounce of strength I had left.

"Dominic, save me!"

I was shaking with terror, clawing and crawling across the floor, desperate to find a way out for my baby.

Dominic's footsteps faltered again.

He was caught between us, paralyzed with indecision. I bit down on the tip of my tongue to force myself to stay conscious.

"I can't see... please, just save me first?"

I made myself small. I begged. I prayed he would choose me.

But he'd barely taken a few steps before Stephanie's agonized sobbing filled the air again.

Her voice was barely a whisper. "Save our baby." Then she went silent.

The uneven footsteps moved further and further away from me.

Ice flooded my veins. I curled into myself on instinct, wrapping my body around my belly.

A sharp crack split the air, followed by a blast of searing heat.

A burning easel crashed down onto both my hands.

Tears streamed down my face. I writhed and squirmed, dragging my hands free inch by inch.

The skin on the backs of my hands was raw and blistering. When I touched them, all I felt were welts.

My consciousness dimmed. Tears of pure despair slid down my cheeks.

Who's going to save me and my baby?

In the last second before everything went dark, I heard the wail of sirens.

Someone lifted me gently, carefully, and carried me somewhere I couldn't name.

When I woke again, the sharp sting of antiseptic filled my nostrils.

My hand flew to my stomach, and I turned frantically to the side.

"Is anyone there? How's my baby?"

A warm hand gently patted the back of mine.

Josephine spoke softly. "The doctor said the baby is perfectly healthy. They want you to stay in the hospital and rest."

She paused. "But your hands, ma'am... the scars will probably be permanent."

Only then did I notice the thick layers of gauze wrapped around both hands. The slightest movement sent a searing pain straight to the bone.

Tears of lingering fear slid down my cheeks, and I let out a long, shaky breath.

Hurried footsteps echoed from the doorway.

Before I could even register who it was, someone seized me and hauled me off the bed.

"Joanna, if you had a problem with Stephanie, you could've just told me! Setting a fire to kill someone is a crime!"

"Do you have any idea she almost had a miscar"

His furious tirade cut off abruptly.

I looked up in disbelief. Every ounce of physical pain paled against the agony tearing through my chest.

"You think I set that fire to burn her alive?"

Tears spilled like a broken string of pearls, falling one after another without end.

Six years. I had been by Dominic's side for six years, and in his eyes, I was nothing but a vicious, heartless woman.

My stomach clenched violently, and I winced at the cramping.

Dominic's grip on my arm didn't loosen. He dragged me toward the door.

"It doesn't matter who actually did it. All of this started because of you."

"Stephanie is terrified. She's emotionally unstable. You're going to apologize to her."

As he wrenched me forward, my hand slammed into the doorframe.

Every last drop of strength drained from my body. Dominic hauled me down the corridor like a rag doll, merciless, never once looking back.

The moment we crossed the threshold into Stephanie's room, I heard her pitiful sobbing.

Then the hospital bed rattled violently. Stephanie climbed down and dropped to her knees at my feet with a thud.

Her voice cracked with anguish.

"Joanna, I'll move out. I'll leave the house, I promise. Just please don't kill me, okay?"

Her long, sharp acrylic nails dug straight into my open wounds.

I flinched and tried to pull back, but a heavy crash echoed through the room.

A stinging slap blazed across my cheek. Dominic had struck me so hard I crumpled to the floor.

My stomach hit the sharp corner of a table. The pain was blinding.

Stephanie's weeping grew louder, even more fragile and piteous than before.

"Don't blame Joanna. It's all my fault... I'm just not good enough. That's why she hates me."

I sat crumpled on the cold floor. Something warm trickled between my legs.

I stared at my mangled, gauze-wrapped hands. My mind went blank.

"Dominic... I think I'm bleeding..."

A cold scoff was all I got in return.

"You think a lie like that is going to make me feel sorry for you?"

I shook my head frantically. "I'm not lying. I'm pregnant..."

"Please, just take me to a doctor."

Stephanie tugged at her tears, putting on the look of a stubborn, delicate flower.

"Go take Joanna to the doctor. She needs you more than I do right now."

A nurse happened to walk in on her rounds and began going over instructions with Stephanie.

"You're showing signs of a threatened miscarriage. You absolutely cannot let yourself get upset."

After she finished, I felt a searing gaze land on me.

The nurse glanced my way with visible disgust. "And you, sir, even if you want to carry on with your mistress, at least don't let it affect your wife's pregnancy."

Dominic didn't argue. He just gave a quiet murmur of acknowledgment.

The moment the nurse left, Dominic signaled his bodyguards to throw me out.

I lay sprawled on the cold hospital floor, my lower abdomen ripping apart as if a thousand hands were tearing at it from the inside. I couldn't breathe through the pain.

Everything around me was darkness. My voice came out raw and broken as I called for help.

Footsteps passed by. Not a single person stopped.

"That's the shameless woman who's been throwing herself at Mr. Mercer. Can you believe it? Trying to worm her way in as his mistress."

"Too bad Mr. Mercer only has eyes for his wife. He didn't even spare her a glance."

I dragged myself forward on my hands and knees, begging them to help me.

But someone shoved me hard from behind. I tumbled down dozens of steps, clawing desperately until my fingers caught the railing.

My grip kept slipping. I was about to lose hold.

If I fell, the baby wouldn't survive.

I squeezed my eyes shut in despair. The moment my fingers gave way and my body plunged into freefall, a pair of strong arms swept me up.

"I'm sorry. I should have been here sooner."