Blind But Brilliant: The Pitied Bride With Hidden Faces

"I love you so much, Elsie. You're everything Khloe isn't-warm, soft, and you actually want to give yourself to me."

Bodies tangled across the king-sized bed, Leo Barnett's ragged breaths swallowed up by Elsie Norris's quiet, trembling moans as the mattress rocked beneath them.

"Come on, let me hear you," he murmured, fingers digging possessively into the curve of her narrow waist.

"No, Leo, we shouldn't..." she whispered, twisting beneath him. "This is supposed to be the room you and my sister share after the wedding. What if she walks in and catches us?"

Leo let out a low, amused laugh, brushing his mouth along her shoulder as he moved. "She won't. She's still wandering those wineries, hunting down that 'perfect bottle' I sent her for. Actually, I bought it days ago. It's the same one we finished earlier."

Elsie's breathless laugh floated through the hallway. "Oh my God, you're awful," she teased, her voice warm and intimate.

The sound hit Khloe Norris like a strike to the ribs-a cruel confirmation of the betrayal unfolding just beyond her reach.

She hovered at the bedroom doorway, the same room she and Leo were supposed to share. Her fingertips drifted over the edge of the half-open door, the wood cool beneath her touch.

Yet she didn't push it wider. She didn't burst in or unleash the outrage clawing at her chest.

What difference would it make? Even if she couldn't witness the depravity happening inside, the truth carved deep anyway.

She was blind. And in this moment, she felt far worse-she felt like a fool in the dark, foolish enough to love a man who never deserved her.

A year earlier, she had been hunting the lost perfume formula, Soul Resonance. That was when fate shoved Leo into her path-cornered by a convoy of black SUVs, desperate and outnumbered. She had thrown herself between him and danger, wagering her life for him and losing her vision in the aftermath.

Back then, he had clasped her trembling hands in both of his, his voice unsteady with emotion as he vowed to marry her. He had sworn he would stay beside her for the rest of his life and never let her face the world alone.

At nineteen, in those naive days, Khloe barely understood what love meant, yet her heart had latched onto Leo the moment she first laid eyes on him. That crash had ended up being both the first time-and the last time-she ever saw his face.

Khloe eased back a step, cradling the bottle of wine she had spent a small fortune and countless favors to obtain, especially since Leo had snagged one of the only two bottles in existence.

Before she could move, Leo's voice cut across the room again. "Elsie, it's always been you-the only woman I ever wanted to marry. I'm not wasting my life tying myself to that blind fool tomorrow."

His tone rose, dripping with arrogance. "The only reason I kept her around was for that freakishly sharp nose of hers-perfect little tool for my perfume business. Without that, I never would've agreed to my father's ridiculous plan to give some pitiful orphan a place in our home. And don't forget, she's a cast-off bastard, dumped in a countryside shelter. How could trash like her ever measure up to you? Oh, and about that stupid wager with the Elliott heir-I've already handed her over to him-my debt's paid in full. Just wait for tomorrow. It's going to be quite a show."

The blood vanished from Khloe's delicate features, leaving her ghost-pale.

Her sightless eyes remained fixed on nothing, yet the darkness closing in felt heavier than ever, as if even the faintest hope had slammed its door on her.

What a cruel joke she'd been living. This was the man she had been ready to spend her life with, the man she had protected and believed in without hesitation. And in this moment, she finally understood-every illusion shattered, revealing the monster he truly was.

Fingers tightening around her cane, she eased into the hallway and felt her way toward the staircase.

For a full year, she had memorized every inch of this house-the slope of each step, the smooth curve of the railing, the exact placement of every sleek piece of furniture.

Leo had padded every sharp edge back then, worried she might bump into something. That thoughtful attention-those quiet, tender gestures-had been what pulled her in, convincing her she was safe with him. She had fallen for the illusion completely.

Moving with slow, wary steps, she descended the stairs. Just then, her foot brushed against something out of place. She pitched forward, heart lurching-saved only by the firm catch of her cane.

Steadying herself, she crouched and swept her hand along the edge of the stairs.

Her fingertips grazed the delicate fabric-sheer lace threaded with tiny pearls-before recognition struck like a blow. It was a pair of lingerie panties.

They weren't hers. She had never owned anything so brazen.

A sick image rose unbidden, Leo and Elsie wrapped around each other on that bed, their bodies twisting in the dark she could no longer see.

The thought turned her stomach.

With a sharp, shaky breath, she flung the scrap of lace away as though it scorched her skin and hurried the rest of the way down the stairs.

Once she reached the first floor, she felt her way to the counter, fingers closing around a corkscrew and a wine glass. No ceremony. No decanting. She uncorked the bottle and filled the glass to the brim.

A quiet, bitter toast-to the blind, gullible fool she'd been.

The wine seared down her throat, leaving a trail of heat that did nothing to warm her hollow chest.

Moments later, the sound of footsteps echoed near the front door.

From the crisp warmth in the housekeeper's greeting, Khloe immediately knew who had arrived.

Corrine Barnett-Leo's mother. The woman who was supposed to become her mother-in-law.

A visit like this could only mean she'd brought the custom wedding gown.

Gliding in on sharp heels and wrapped in a sleek silk dress, Corrine swept into the room with two assistants trailing behind her. Her gaze snapped straight to the uncorked bottle and the stemmed glass resting in Khloe's grip.

That was the wine reserved for the wedding night. With icy precision, Corrine's tone cut through the air. "Do you have any idea how much Leo paid for that bottle-and you just drank it like it was nothing? What exactly do you plan to drink tomorrow?"

She then let out a brittle scoff. "Honestly, accepting a blind woman into the family was embarrassing enough. He's already made himself look ridiculous."

Khloe let the wine roll lazily around the bowl of her glass, a quiet smile tugging at her mouth. "It's mine to finish, after all. What difference does it make whether I drink it now or tomorrow? You sound a little tense. Need a drink yourself? There's still plenty-I'd be happy to pour you one."

Lifting the half-empty bottle, she extended it toward Corrine. A loose curtain of hair slipped over her shoulders, framing the striking lines of her face; her clouded eyes did little to dim her striking allure.

Corrine froze, caught off guard.

Gone was the meek, obedient blind woman she'd grown used to. This version of Khloe carried a quiet edge.

Still, with the wedding only a day away and a mountain of preparations pressing down on her, Corrine refused to ignite a fight. She signaled her assistants with a clipped gesture. "Take it. Your gown is here. It's been tailored a full size smaller than your usual measurements. Make sure you don't eat a thing tonight or tomorrow, or it won't fit. The media will be there in force, so do not humiliate us in front of the entire city."

The Barnett family had stood as a pillar of the city of Oranbu for more than a century, and Jared Barnett guarded their reputation as though it were sacred scripture. His only son, Leo, was the pride of that legacy, so every detail of his wedding was arranged with extravagant obsessiveness-nothing less than the most dazzling spectacle the city could offer.

Corrine had thrown herself into overseeing it all, stalking through banquet halls and designer showrooms. Yet the bride she had pictured beside Leo had always been Elsie-the impeccably raised daughter of the Norris family, polished to perfection and bred for society's grand stage. In Corrine's imagination, Leo and Elsie formed an ideal pair.

Jared's stubborn devotion to settling Leo's life debt to Khloe shattered those dreams. He had ordered Leo to wed Khloe instead, and from that moment, Corrine's resentment had taken root.

To Corrine, Khloe was nothing but an opportunistic outsider-an interloper who had materialized from nowhere and derailed the future she had so carefully mapped out.

A sharp voice cut through the silence. "Hard to believe that's supposed to be a wedding dress for tomorrow. That shade of pink is ridiculous-more like something a bridesmaid would get stuck wearing. Honestly, is Mrs. Barnett trying to embarrass the bride on purpose?"

"The poor girl can't even see-how would she ever realize they didn't even give her a real wedding dress? She'll likely show up in that thing tomorrow and end up making a fool of herself in front of the whole crowd."

The household staff's voices dropped to whispers, convinced their gossip was tucked safely out of reach.

Yet every word sliced clearly through the air. Khloe caught all of it. Her hearing, already sharp since childhood, had turned unnervingly precise after the darkness claimed her vision.

She trailed her fingertips across the smooth fabric, feeling every seam and bead, and a cold, humorless smile curved at the edge of her mouth.

Footsteps thudded softly along the wooden stairs, carrying two silhouettes into view-Leo with his shirt hanging open and his bare chest exposed, and Elsie with her hair in a wild, tangled mess, draped in nothing more than a thin silk slip.

A beat of silence followed. Leo clearly hadn't expected Khloe to return so early; irritation flickered across his otherwise polished features before he masked it.

Corrine picked up on the scene instantly. With a sharp snap of her fingers, she dismissed the household staff in the hall, then shot Leo a pointed look, urging him to get Elsie out of sight before the situation could spiral.

Leo slid an arm around Elsie's waist and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. Leaning close, he murmured in a low, indulgent whisper, "Tomorrow, I'm all yours. Be a good girl and head home now."

Elsie lifted herself onto her toes, then darted down the remaining steps and vanished through the back door.

A faint, unreadable smile curving her lips as Khloe dipped her head.

Even without sight, she tracked every movement with uncanny accuracy-she knew Leo's stride by heart and could map the room by sound alone, counting each presence as easily as breathing.

What a shame she couldn't witness their guilt firsthand or catch the panic surely twisting across their faces as they scrambled to hide the evidence.

With the dress delivered, Corrine rattled off a few quick instructions and took her leave.

Left alone, Khloe settled onto the sofa with her usual serene composure. She looked silent and agreeable, a woman who seemed incapable of anger.

Across the room, Leo exhaled in quiet relief. From her expression, she clearly hadn't caught on.

He smoothed his wrinkled shirt, forcing an easy charm back onto his face before taking a seat beside her. When he reached for her chilled hand, his tone tried to sound casual. "Did you get the wine?"

Khloe slipped her fingers free with delicate ease. "I did. I brought it back... but I got thirsty and drank some."

At a slow glance toward the table, Leo spotted the bottle already half gone and the glass left behind. For a blink, something sharp crossed his expression, then he tucked it away with practiced ease. "No problem. If it makes you feel good, have as much as you like."

Khloe angled her face toward him, offering a small, airy smile. "You're really... so 'good' to me, Leo."

A warm laugh rolled out of him as he slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Don't be silly. You're about to be my wife. Who else would I treat well?"

Against his chest, a heavy wave of Elsie's perfume clung to him-sweet, cloying, unmistakably intimate. The stench curled into her senses and twisted her stomach.

Three slow seconds passed before Khloe eased out of his hold, her palm drifting across his arm as she pushed him back.

She felt disgusted.

That fleeting embrace?

For her, it already marked the end.

"We'll go file the marriage paperwork first thing tomorrow," Leo announced, tone light and certain.

Khloe lifted the corner of her mouth and dipped her head in a soft, obliging nod. "Alright."

His hand skimmed over her silky hair in a practiced pat. Then he got up, and the warmth on his face vanished in an instant. The mask snapped back into place-cold, sharp, utterly detached.

He had no doubt she would obey. She always did. She'd step right where he wanted her-an easy pawn sliding neatly into his plan.

He couldn't wait to cut her out of his life for good. Her bland, lifeless demeanor left him irritated to his core-there was simply nothing there.

By the next morning, the City Hall building buzzed beneath a sky weighed down by heavy gray clouds.

The corridor outside the clerk's office overflowed with couples pressing shoulder-to-shoulder, waiting for their numbers to be called.

On a narrow bench near the wall, Khloe sat with her hands folded neatly over the skirt of her plain white dress.

A short distance away, Leo queued at the counter, impatiently tapping his heel while securing a number slip.

When the clerk finally began verifying their IDs and skimming through the forms, they casually asked a few routine questions, barely glancing up from the papers.

Propped lazily against the edge, Leo answered in an easy, almost charming drawl.

Khloe tipped her head, straining for every word. She barely caught his voice as he explained, "The groom isn't me. His name is James Elliott. The bride is Khloe Norris. I'm her brother-I'm only here to help her with the paperwork since she's blind..."

The rest slipped away behind the surrounding noise.

Khloe's grip slowly cinched around her cane, knuckles whitening.

Her thoughts raced, pulling up every scrap of gossip she'd ever heard about that name-James Elliott.

Rumor painted him as the notorious only son of the Elliott family. His father was a long-stationed military commander, barely playing a role in raising him. Therefore, he had grown up rough-edged and untamed after losing his mother, a wild streak carved deep into him-violent temper, reckless habits, a reputation for crossing every line without hesitation. In Oranbu, his name carried a kind of dangerous infamy.

And yet, some whispered his face was too striking to belong to this world, as if heaven misplaced one of its favorites.

What mattered even more was the power behind him. His family held Oranbu's economic lifeline in their grip, a city celebrated across the world for its perfume empire. James even ran a perfumery of his own, rumored to be both lucrative and exclusive.

Khloe figured that maybe the things she had searched for endlessly in the Barnett household might finally exist within the Elliott family's walls.

As that fragile thought flickered through her mind, a low rumble echoed from outside the building.

Down the road, a parade of high-end sports cars swept in like a glossy, snarling tide. At the center, a silver Koenigsegg glided forward and swung to a stop at the gate with icy, pinpoint precision, sealing off the entrance as if claiming the entire building for itself.

The display oozed audacity-loud, showy, and outrageously opulent.

Doors swung open in perfect unison. A crowd of men in sharp black suits filed out, lining up in two flawless rows, rigid as a living barricade.

From the Koenigsegg, the gull-wing door lifted. A pair of long legs descended first, fitted neatly into tailored black trousers. Sleek leather shoes kissed the pavement with a muted tap.

A tall silhouette rose from the car, unfolding into view with slow, effortless dominance.

Black silk clung to his frame, the shirt tailored to perfection, its top buttons undone just enough to reveal the hard lines of his chest-reckless, unrestrained, and deliberately provocative.

Sunlight slid across the sculpted angles of his pretty face, catching on the faint smirk playing at his mouth as he sauntered in with an easy, unhurried sway. Each step carried a quiet command, his presence flooding the space with effortless dominance. That seamless mix of arrogance and polished danger clung to him like a second skin, challenging anyone bold enough to stand in his path.

He didn't resemble a man arriving for the marriage registration. He looked like someone ready to tear the building down brick by brick.

James's assistant hustled after him, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Hold up a second! Do you even know which woman you're supposed to marry? What if you grab the wrong one?"

A few strides into the corridor, James came to an abrupt stop, his jaw set as his attention drifted across the crowded room.

His gaze eventually hooked onto a young woman perched on a bench, a slim cane resting against her knee. A waterfall of glossy hair framed her face, and her plain white dress only made her look softer, almost fragile. She sat with quiet composure-gentle, obedient... and strikingly lovely. Everything he wasn't-wild, volatile, impossible to rein in.

Only a few steps separated them.

James lingered there, studying her with a faint, crooked smirk tugging at his mouth.

Poor thing-completely blind, and still clueless that her fiancé had dumped her off like some unwanted junk.

Leo, rattled by the spectacle James had just unleashed, seized his arm and hauled him toward a quieter corner. "Who told you to pull this stunt? One wrong move and you'll blow everything."

James let out a low, careless chuckle, rolling his shoulders as if none of this concerned him. "Chaos is kind of my signature. I'm tying the knot today-what's a parade of fancy cars to celebrate it? If you're that offended, we can call the whole deal off."

The threat made Leo's face drain. Losing James now would ruin everything. "Alright, alright," he blurted out, lowering his voice. "Just keep your mouth shut once we're inside. Don't say a word while we sign."

The Barnett and Elliott families practically carved up Oranbu between them, ruling nearly eighty percent of the city's economy-and despising each other while doing it.

James had never played by Elliott rules anyway. At twenty-eight, the pressure to settle down had become suffocating, and nothing delighted him more than the idea of bringing home a blind bride just to spite his iron-fisted father.

Leo, on the other hand, saw a way to discard Khloe and humiliate the Elliott family in one beautifully cruel maneuver. It made their partnership disgustingly convenient.

So the agreement had snapped into place with hardly any effort at all.

Khloe settled quietly on the bench, blissfully unaware of the storm swirling around her. When Leo approached, he slipped a hand under her elbow with practiced gentleness, murmuring, "We're the next-let's go."

After leading her forward, he eased her into a chair. A moment later, another figure lowered himself into the seat beside her. Broad shoulders brushed the air above her, and a clean, woody fragrance drifted toward her-strange, unfamiliar.

A faint smile touched her lips.

Whoever this was, it wasn't Leo. The scent didn't match his.

James let his gaze drift toward the petite woman beside him, a crooked smirk forming as he took her in. When that soft smile returned and two small dimples appeared, the unexpected sweetness threw him for a beat.

He lost focus-just a flicker-before catching himself and exhaling a dry, amused breath.

How pathetic! Sold off like nothing, yet she kept right on smiling.

Soon after, they drifted toward the clerk's desk to finish the marriage paperwork.

The three of them settled into the chairs, an odd little trio.

The clerk paused, eyebrows lifting-people didn't usually drag in an extra companion for their marriage registration.

He collected their IDs, tapped the details into his computer, and ran off a stack of forms. A moment later, he slid the papers across the counter for the bride and groom to sign.

Leo guided Khloe's hand to the page, his palm heavy over her knuckles as he eased her fingers toward the signature line. "Right here. And over on this line too," he murmured.

A quiet breath fluttered out of her as Khloe tightened her hold on the pen.

There was no turning back.

Once her name landed on that paper, she would have nothing to do with Leo.

From this moment on, they were essentially strangers walking opposite paths.

James finished scrawling his signature with broad, confident strokes, then flicked the pen onto the desk with a lazy snap of his wrist. He angled a look toward the pair beside him, a faint spark of amusement sliding through his eyes.

Marrying his rival's fiancée? The satisfaction was downright intoxicating.

Worried Khloe might falter, Leo eased her hand downward again, his voice soft but insistent. "Go on and sign. Once this is done, we're good. I'll bring you home."

Khloe released a small, almost weightless laugh, her tension dissolving at last.

As if accepting everything in one quiet breath, she guided the pen with steady, deliberate strokes, placing her name exactly where it needed to be.

When the clerk passed over the freshly certified document, Leo snatched it up with eager hands and slid it into the inner pocket of his blazer. "I'll keep this safe. Stay here-I'll bring the car around."

James lingered a few steps away, one hand buried in his pocket as he watched Leo jog off in excitement.

A sudden, dry chuckle burst out of him, edged with disbelief.

Was he for real? It was nothing more than a sheet of paper, yet he acted like he'd just snagged first place in a lottery.

His attention shifted back to the petite woman at his side.

She stood still with her cane resting against her palm, her composed expression carrying a faint, lonely quiet that tugged at something he didn't like to acknowledge.

For a man who prided himself on being hard and unsentimental, the reaction annoyed him.

Yet staring at this blind, unsuspecting woman, a thin thread of sympathy slipped through anyway.

He was supposed to keep his mouth shut for twenty-four hours-Leo's one condition-just until the wedding ceremony ended tonight.

But honestly? This was him. An unruly heir had never been good at following rules, much less honoring promises he didn't care about.

With a soft clear of his throat, he leaned subtly her way.

"Hey there," he inquired, voice dropping into an easy drawl. "Any idea who I am?"