I faked being paralyzed after my accident, and today I sat silently in my wheelchair while my fiancée called me a useless cripple in front of every single person I thought loved me.

I woke up the next morning to the sound of high heels clicking down the hallway.

Vanessa.

I quickly rearranged the pillows behind my back, letting my arms go limp, my face settling into that blank, tired expression I’d perfected over the last three weeks.

She threw the door open without knocking, holding a stack of envelopes in one hand, a coffee cup in the other.

She was already dressed, her hair perfectly done, her makeup sharp enough to cut.

“About time you woke up,” she said, dropping the envelopes on the bed beside me. “We have things to discuss.”

I blinked slowly at her, like I was still half-asleep.

“Good morning to you too,” I said.

She rolled her eyes, sitting down on the edge of the bed far enough away that she didn’t have to touch me.

“Cut the act,” she said. “We both know you’re not as out of it as you pretend.”

My stomach dropped a little, but I kept my face steady.

“What do you want, Vanessa?” I said.

She leaned forward, her eyes glinting.

“Access,” she said. “To the offshore accounts. The investment portfolios. The private holdings your father left you. The board is meeting next week. If I’m going to take over running things while you’re… recovering… I need to be able to move money around without asking for your signature every five minutes.”

There it was.

No pretense anymore.

No “I love you” or “we’re in this together.”

Just straight-up greed.

I let my face fall a little, like I was hurt.

“Take over?” I said. “I’m still CEO, Vanessa. I can still run the company from the chair.”

She laughed, a sharp, bitter sound.

“Please,” she said. “You can’t even get yourself to the bathroom alone. The board will never go for it. They want someone strong. Someone who can walk into a room and command respect. That’s not you anymore. It’s me. Or Liam. Either way, you’re done.”

She said it so casually, like she was talking about replacing a broken toaster.

I stared at her.

Three years.

Three years of dates, of trips, of promising her the world.

Three years of loving a woman who’d been waiting for me to break this whole time.

“I’m not signing over access,” I said quietly.

Her smile vanished.

She stood up, her face turning red with anger.

“You stupid, stubborn man,” she hissed. “You think you have a choice? I have friends on that board. I have proof of things you did five years ago—things that would send you to prison if they ever came out. Either you sign those papers, or I make sure the next accident you have is one you don’t wake up from.”

The room went cold.

I’d suspected she’d had something to do with the crash.

Now she was practically admitting it.

Before I could answer, there was a soft knock on the door.

“Come in,” I said, my voice steady.

Clara stepped in, holding a tray with my breakfast—eggs, toast, fresh orange juice, that extra lemon tea I liked.

She stopped when she saw Vanessa’s face.

“I’m sorry,” she said, starting to back out. “I can come back later.”

“No,” I said. “Stay.”

Vanessa looked from Clara to me, her eyes narrowing.

“Of course,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “The little maid is here again. You two have gotten awfully close lately, haven’t you?”

Clara kept her head down, setting the tray on the table beside the bed.

“I’m just doing my job, ma’am,” she said.

Vanessa stepped toward her, towering over her.

“Your job is to clean,” she said. “Not to hang around his bedroom like a little rat. Next time I find you in here uninvited, you’re fired. And I’ll make sure you never work in this city again. Do you understand me?”

Clara’s hands shook a little, but she didn’t flinch.

“Yes, ma’am,” she said.

“Get out,” Vanessa snapped.

Clara turned to go.

As she passed my side of the bed, her hand brushed mine for half a second.

A tiny, reassuring squeeze.

Then she was gone, closing the door softly behind her.

Vanessa turned back to me, picking up the envelopes and shaking them in my face.

“You have until Friday,” she said. “Sign them, or I destroy everything you’ve ever built. And that little maid? I’ll make sure she suffers too. Just for fun.”

She walked out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

I sat there for a long time, the breakfast tray growing cold beside me.

She’d threatened Clara.

That was a mistake.

A huge, fatal mistake.

I reached for my phone, dialing my head of security.

“Marcus,” I said when he picked up. “I need you to track Vanessa 24/7. Every call she makes, every person she meets, every text she sends. And I want full surveillance on my cousin Liam too. They’re working together. And find out everything you can about the crash. I want proof they tampered with my brakes.”

“On it, sir,” Marcus said.

I hung up.

Then I looked at the door Clara had left through.

Vanessa had just declared war.

She thought she was fighting a broken man in a wheelchair.

She had no idea she’d just woken up the man who’d built a billion-dollar empire from nothing.

And she’d made it personal.

This wasn’t just about my company anymore.

It was about protecting the only person in this whole damn house who actually gave a damn if I lived or died.