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The Mute Heiress: My Ruthless Husband's Prize
img img The Mute Heiress: My Ruthless Husband's Prize img Chapter 3 3
3 Chapters
Chapter 7 7 img
Chapter 8 8 img
Chapter 9 9 img
Chapter 10 10 img
Chapter 11 11 img
Chapter 12 12 img
Chapter 13 13 img
Chapter 14 14 img
Chapter 15 15 img
Chapter 16 16 img
Chapter 17 17 img
Chapter 18 18 img
Chapter 19 19 img
Chapter 20 20 img
Chapter 21 21 img
Chapter 22 22 img
Chapter 23 23 img
Chapter 24 24 img
Chapter 25 25 img
Chapter 26 26 img
Chapter 27 27 img
Chapter 28 28 img
Chapter 29 29 img
Chapter 30 30 img
Chapter 31 31 img
Chapter 32 32 img
Chapter 33 33 img
Chapter 34 34 img
Chapter 35 35 img
Chapter 36 36 img
Chapter 37 37 img
Chapter 38 38 img
Chapter 39 39 img
Chapter 40 40 img
Chapter 41 41 img
Chapter 42 42 img
Chapter 43 43 img
Chapter 44 44 img
Chapter 45 45 img
Chapter 46 46 img
Chapter 47 47 img
Chapter 48 48 img
Chapter 49 49 img
Chapter 50 50 img
Chapter 51 51 img
Chapter 52 52 img
Chapter 53 53 img
Chapter 54 54 img
Chapter 55 55 img
Chapter 56 56 img
Chapter 57 57 img
Chapter 58 58 img
Chapter 59 59 img
Chapter 60 60 img
Chapter 61 61 img
Chapter 62 62 img
Chapter 63 63 img
Chapter 64 64 img
Chapter 65 65 img
Chapter 66 66 img
Chapter 67 67 img
Chapter 68 68 img
Chapter 69 69 img
Chapter 70 70 img
Chapter 71 71 img
Chapter 72 72 img
Chapter 73 73 img
Chapter 74 74 img
Chapter 75 75 img
Chapter 76 76 img
Chapter 77 77 img
Chapter 78 78 img
Chapter 79 79 img
Chapter 80 80 img
Chapter 81 81 img
Chapter 82 82 img
Chapter 83 83 img
Chapter 84 84 img
Chapter 85 85 img
Chapter 86 86 img
Chapter 87 87 img
Chapter 88 88 img
Chapter 89 89 img
Chapter 90 90 img
Chapter 91 91 img
Chapter 92 92 img
Chapter 93 93 img
Chapter 94 94 img
Chapter 95 95 img
Chapter 96 96 img
Chapter 97 97 img
Chapter 98 98 img
Chapter 99 99 img
Chapter 100 100 img
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Chapter 3 3

Hilliard released her wrist. He stood up and brushed an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve, as if touching her had soiled him.

Elenor rubbed the spot where his fingers had been. The skin felt hot. She watched him, her mind racing. She wasn't just Elenor Becker, the mute heiress. She was "The Analyst." She moved millions on the dark web. She knew how to break companies. And now, she was married to the CEO of one.

She pointed at the tablet in his hand. She made a gesture-opening a book. Let me see.

Hilliard raised an eyebrow. "You want to read the fine print now? A little late."

But he handed it to her.

Elenor took the device. Her fingers, seemingly clumsy from her injuries, moved across the screen. She feigned scrolling through the legal jargon, but her touch was precise. She wasn't reading. She was testing the device's responsiveness, swiping to access the system's root directory, looking for diagnostic apps or logs that would indicate monitoring software. It was a reflex, a hacker's instinct to map any new digital territory.

Her thumb hovered over a system process that looked suspiciously like a keylogger.

Suddenly, the tablet was ripped from her hands.

Elenor gasped, her hand jerking back.

Hilliard was leaning over her, his face inches from hers. He had moved with terrifying speed.

"You're looking for something," he asked. His eyes were narrowed.

Elenor's heart slammed against her ribs. Had he seen? Did he recognize the pattern of her swipes as a system probe?

"What were you looking for, Mrs. Blackburn?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

Elenor widened her eyes. she summoned every ounce of innocence she possessed. She pointed to the corner of the screen where the date was displayed. Then she tapped her head, looking confused.

Hilliard stared at her for three long seconds. He was dissecting her, looking for the lie.

"The date," he said finally, sounding skeptical. "It's the 14th. You've been in a coma for three days."

He tucked the tablet under his arm. "I'm leaving two security guards at the door. 24/7. For your safety. And to ensure you don't do anything stupid."

Soft confinement. That's what this was.

He walked to the door. "And Elenor," he said without turning around. "Fix this mess with Julian. I don't like other men touching my property."

The door clicked shut.

Elenor waited. She counted to sixty. Then she collapsed back against the pillows, letting out a shaky breath. She threw the covers off. Her legs were bruised, scraped, but whole.

She sat up and ripped the IV needle out of her hand. A drop of bright red blood welled up, sliding down her skin. She didn't feel it.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her feet hit the cold floor. She stumbled to the window and pulled back the curtain just an inch.

Down below, the street was choked with vans. Satellite dishes. Paparazzi.

She was trapped. Hilliard's guards at the door. The media at the exit.

She turned and looked at the bathroom vent. It was small. High up. But she was thin.

She wasn't going to wait for Hilliard to decide her fate. She had to get to the manor. She had to get the hard drive.

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