Chapter 4 Have You Decided To Retain Her As Your Wife

Nicole's thoughts raced frantically as she swiftly concealed the pistol beneath the folds of her dress once more. Testing the waters carefully, she ventured, "So... you truly cannot see anything at all?"

Connor, ever economical with his speech, confirmed simply, "Correct."

A wave of reassurance washed over Nicole, prompting her to clutch the weapon firmly, aiming it silently in his direction as a precaution against any sudden threat.

Connor offered no comment, though inwardly he was amused by the glaring detail that the inexpensive plastic firearm still bore its original store label, plainly dangling in view.

For now, he decided silence served him best; her innocent misconception spared him the effort of deeper interrogation.

Eager to conclude this obligatory encounter, Connor pivoted his wheelchair away and announced coolly, "It's late. Do as you please, provided you avoid interrupting my rest or touching me."

Nicole's brow furrowed in confusion. Hadn't he intended to verify her purity moments ago? Why this abrupt dismissal? Did his words signal reluctant acceptance of their forced union?

Curiosity burned within her, yet fear sealed her lips-gossip within the circle warned of Connor's volatile mood swings, capable of erupting into violence without warning, perhaps even lunging to choke the life from her. In such uncertainty, muteness seemed the safest strategy for survival.

Rising from the mattress, she proposed considerately, "You don't move around easily; you ought to claim the bed for proper rest. I'll make do on the floor."

"That won't be necessary," Connor replied curtly, shutting his eyelids and adjusting the backrest as if to dismiss her entirely.

Nicole surveyed the surroundings. Though the sprawling mansion boasted luxurious architecture on the surface, neglect had rendered it forsaken and ill-suited for habitation, devoid even of basic warmth from heating systems.

Bundling herself in a thin quilt for protection against the biting air, she perched warily on the bed's corner, determined to remain vigilant through the hours. Yet, as midnight deepened into the early morning, the piercing cold proved relentless. Her gaze drifted to Connor, who appeared to slumber peacefully, and compassion stirred within her-given his fragile health, he likely suffered the chill far more acutely.

A pang of remorse prompted her to gently drape the quilt over his form without a word.

In an instant, Connor's eyes flew open.

Meeting his intense stare, Nicole noted the unusual depth of his irises-rich mahogany flecked with subtle azure tones, appearing both distant and piercingly commanding, radiating an effortless aura of authority that unnerved her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stammered an apology. "Sorry for disturbing you. I was just worried you'd be cold."

Trained rigorously over the years to endure harsh conditions, Connor scarcely registered the temperature. "Since you're so scared of me, why not simply depart?"

He reasoned that her flight, mirroring the abrupt exits of previous arranged brides, would conveniently nullify the contractual marriage.

Nicole gulped anxiously before replying, "How could you tell I was afraid?"

Skepticism laced her voice. Those strikingly vivid and mesmerizing eyes-how could they truly belong to someone sightless?

Unruffled, Connor explained evenly, "Your entire body has been quivering without pause."

Startled, Nicole glanced down to discover her hands indeed shaking violently-and one had inadvertently come to rest atop his. Mortified, she yanked it away and bit her lip in silence.

"Both my mother and father are deceased, leaving no family to defend me. Refusing this match would only hasten another unwanted arrangement elsewhere," she confessed openly. "In my position, one husband holds little advantage over another, so fleeing changes nothing meaningful."

Connor dismissed her rationale as a hollow excuse. Yet, in a world rife with deception and complications, endlessly cycling through alliances struck him as equally boring. Without further engagement, he sealed his eyes once more, abruptly terminating their exchange.

Unable to decipher his enigmatic demeanor, Nicole sensed tentatively that she might have navigated some unspoken trial successfully. To probe further, she cautiously waved her hand before his face. No flicker of reaction.

Bolstered by this, she feigned a light swing toward him in jest.

Still, he showed no awareness.

Tension easing from her shoulders, Nicole nonetheless felt a surge of sympathy. So strikingly attractive in form and feature, without his afflictions, he could undoubtedly thrive in any sphere of life.

...

Dawn arrived without incident, marking Nicole's uneventful survival of the night.

She discovered Connor far less monstrous than the vicious tales portrayed, solidifying the reality of their binding vows. Resolved to embrace her circumstances fully, she summoned fresh determination and descended the stairs to acquaint herself with the household.

Layers of dust coated every surface of the grand yet forsaken residence, cluttered with antiquated and damaged furnishings rendered mostly useless. The refrigerator overflowed with pre-packaged convenience foods and low-quality semi-prepared items-evidently Connor's solitary, uninspired sustenance.

Nicole exhaled heavily in dismay. If the influential Reed clan despised their illegitimate offspring this profoundly, why not end his torment decisively? Instead, they isolated him in this gilded prison, denying him both dignified existence and merciful release, prolonging his quiet agony indefinitely.

After meticulously sorting through the pantry, she salvaged a few unspoiled staples and prepared a nourishing, hot morning meal.

Upstairs in the master suite, Connor monitored Nicole's activities meticulously via hidden security feeds displayed on a private screen.

His trusted aide, Samuel Adams, stepped forward quietly from the shadows, presenting a thick dossier compiling exhaustive details on Nicole's background.

Connor leafed through the pages with detached indifference.

Leaning in with genuine intrigue, Samuel inquired, "Mr. Reed, have you decided to retain her as your wife?"