Blind Wife Exposes Deception

The hardwood floor felt cool beneath my bare feet as I navigated the familiar path down the hallway of our penthouse. My fingers trailed lightly along the wall, counting doorways—a habit I'd developed in the three years since losing my sight. I didn't really need my white cane inside our home anymore, but I carried it anyway, tapping occasionally for reassurance.

I was heading to retrieve my sketchbook from the library. Though I couldn't see my drawings anymore, the act of creating—feeling the texture of the paper, the glide of charcoal between my fingers—remained one of my few remaining connections to my former life as an artist.

The low rumble of male laughter drifted from Connor's study. My husband was entertaining friends tonight—something about celebrating a business merger. He'd kissed my forehead earlier, his cologne lingering as he suggested I rest in our bedroom. 'Just boring business talk, my sweet, helpless girl,' he'd murmured, his thumb brushing my cheek in that possessive way of his.

I was about to pass the study when Connor's voice, loosened by what I assumed was expensive scotch, carried clearly through the partially open door.

'I swear to God, Mitchell, your impression is getting too good. She didn't suspect a thing last night?'

More laughter erupted, and I froze, my cane suspended mid-tap.

'Gentlemen, I'd like to propose a toast,' a voice I recognized as Julian Croft announced. 'To the most entertaining blind date in Manhattan.'

The explosion of cruel laughter made my blood run cold.

'Blind date.' The pun wasn't lost on me. My fingers tightened around my cane as I inched closer to the doorway.

'You should have seen her face when I told her how beautiful she looked in that blue dress,' another voice said—Ryan Mitchell's. 'She had no idea it was red.'

My heart hammered against my ribs. What were they talking about?

'Three months of this game, and she still thinks it's me in bed with her every night.' Connor's voice was smug, satisfied. 'Mitchell, you're getting the most turns lately. Should I be jealous?'

'Just following the rotation,' Ryan replied, his voice strangely tight. 'Besides, Madison would kill you if you actually touched your substitute wife.'

Substitute wife. The words pierced through me like a physical blow.

'Madison's the one who came up with the game in the first place,' Connor said. 'She thinks it's hilarious. Says it keeps me entertained while I wait for her to finish with that European business expansion.'

'The perfect arrangement,' Julian chimed in. 'You get the publicity of the devoted husband caring for his blind wife, Madison gets to build her empire knowing you're not actually sleeping with the stand-in, and we get...well, the benefits.'

I backed away from the door, my legs trembling so violently I feared they would give out. I retreated to the staircase landing, gripping the banister for support as their words continued to assault me.

'To think she actually believes you married her for love,' someone said.

'Well,