Chapter 3 Wedding Night

Nicole felt her pulse pounding fiercely beneath her composed exterior as she forced herself to steady her breathing. "Yes."

Nervously moistening her lips, she extended a sincere greeting. "Good evening. My name is Nicole-your bride, now officially your wife through this arranged union."

Connor acknowledged her words with nothing more than a quiet tilt of his head.

Nicole studied his slightest movements with intense focus. Perhaps because both of them had endured lives marked by relentless adversity and powerlessness, the knot of dread in her chest gradually began to loosen.

Abruptly, Connor broke the silence. "Do you know how to use the internet?"

Already tense from the unfamiliar situation, Nicole's thoughts scattered for a moment, yet she responded compliantly, "Yes."

"Then you must have come across stories about me. What made you willing to go through with marrying me anyway?" he asked.

Accustomed to years of belittlement and mistreatment of Phillip and his family, Nicole sensed no outright malice in his tone and replied with honest candor, "I was given no more choice in this matter than you were."

"Once this night passes," he warned evenly, "any chance of escape will be gone for good."

The underlying meaning of his words struck her clearly. She chose silence as her response.

Having encountered numerous women who feigned bravery in difficult circumstances, Connor continued in a measured, unhurried voice, "I hold no real standing or favor within the Reed household. Even as my spouse in name, you won't gain any meaningful advantage or protection."

Nicole met his statement calmly. "I'm aware of that, and it doesn't trouble me."

"I'm physically impaired and incapable of any physical closeness."

"I feel no particular desire in that regard."

"I'm sightless, dependent on others for many daily tasks."

"I'm considerably heavy, with facial features altered and swollen by my weight-so your blindness might actually spare you an unpleasant sight."

In the faint glow filtering through the room, Connor narrowed his eyes slightly. A flicker of curiosity about his new wife's looks prompted him to maneuver his wheelchair until he faced her direction.

Whispers throughout the family had painted Connor as grotesquely deformed, monstrous in appearance, so when he pivoted toward her, Nicole's reflexes took over-she squeezed her eyelids shut in instinctive dread. After all, he was blind and wouldn't see what she was doing anyway.

Connor fixed his gaze on the plump Nicole standing before him. Her face carried soft, rounded contours, yet her features were delicately beautiful, complemented by exceptionally clear, flawless skin. Taken as a whole, she possessed an acceptable, even quietly attractive appeal.

Given his longstanding lack of romantic interest in women, he held no strong expectations or preferences.

"Since you've resolved to accept this," he stated flatly, "go ahead and settle onto the bed."

The command caused Nicole's entire frame to tense rigidly. "But you mentioned you weren't able to..."

Connor answered with cool detachment, "Does instructing you to lie on the bed automatically mean I intend anything sexual?"

His direct phrasing flushed her cheeks with mortification. Fearing that further questions might provoke unwanted consequences, she cautiously parted her eyes just enough to see and climbed onto the mattress with evident discomfort.

Connor glanced at her. In truth, even a lifeless body would appear more relaxed than her rigid posture.

Nicole kept her eyes firmly closed, attuned to the low hum of the wheelchair drawing nearer.

His low, resonant voice filled the space again. "Remove your trousers."

Holding her breath, Nicole ventured a hesitant question. "We aren't planning to... consummate anything, are we?"

The very idea of voicing the act aloud sent an involuntary tremor through her.

Connor responded indifferently, "I simply need to confirm whether you're untouched."

At that, Nicole's eyes flew open in anger, her body preparing to resist.

Instead, the unexpected vision before her nearly stopped her heart: far from the nightmarish, disfigured monster described in rumors, the man gazing back possessed strikingly refined, aristocratic features-devastatingly handsome with an aura of quiet authority. Shock flooded her expression.

"I'm so sorry," she blurted, bolting upright. "I must have entered the wrong room. Are you truly Connor Reed?"

He tilted his head slightly. "What makes you doubt it?"

"You look far more like the other eligible sons in the Reed lineage."

"I'm wearing a mask, crafted from the flayed skin of a child I personally stripped alive." Connor deliberately fabricated a lie to scare her.

Terror seized Nicole; her fingers involuntarily loosened around the concealed pistol tucked beneath her gown, and it dropped onto the mattress with a muffled thump.

Connor's attention subtly shifted to the fallen item, registering it unmistakably as a firearm.