The Bilionaire's Disable Bride

The statement on the screen was straightforward, almost overly basic. A terrifying warning on a number she didn't recognize:

"Don't go to CrossCorp today."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she froze, staring at the mysterious lettering with narrowed eyes. The message felt too weird to reply to, yet her hand lingered over the reply. After all, even in the digital realm, living in Las Vegas means putting up with a lot of noise and mayhem, so it might be spam or a practical joke.

Mimi shook her head, pushed the phone away, and concentrated on the plans she and Simeon had made. It was meant to be different today. Despite everything that had slipped through their fingers in recent months, today was meant to remind James of what really mattered-the family they had created together. It would be just the two of them, a low-key meal, and perhaps a bit too much champagne. An ideal approach to honor the man who had once given her a sense of importance.

She sighed and flung the phone onto the bed, its screen lighting up with another unread message. She got up and gathered herself for the day. She would not allow this to derail her plan, whatever it was.

She was staring back at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. Today, she needed to look flawless. She experienced a mixture of remorse and anticipation, the old, familiar nervousness. This birthday would be remembered because of her.

However, she couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was seriously off as she turned to face the door. Already, something was falling apart.

The quiet scribbling of crayon on paper, the gentle whoosh of the heating system, and the steady throb of her pulse beneath her skin, however, were enough to tell her.

Their seven-year-old son, Simeon, was sitting on the kitchen floor with a bright red crayon in his little fingers. He was engrossed in the straightforward activity of drawing. His little calligraphy was scribbled in shaky characters on the front of the innocent-looking card he was working on, but it was nonetheless full with meaning. He gazed up at her, his large brown eyes meeting hers with an age-old knowledge.

"Daddy, happy birthday! We cherish you! His juvenile handwriting was read on the card. Mimi's heart became constricted. The simplicity and purity of the words struck a deeper chord than before. It was meant to be a special day. It had to be for her. For him. For her.

She smiled slightly as she sat next to him. She tenderly tucked his soft hair behind his ear with her palm. She signed to him, "That's beautiful, Simeon," her hands flowing naturally through the motions she had perfected over the years. "You know your daddy will love it."

Simeon simply nodded and went back to work without saying anything. His quiet was similar to hers, content but with a hint of melancholy. The distance between their dreams and reality was getting larger every day.

Mimi went over the card once more, running her fingertips over the text. Was it too late? Could this actually be fixed? Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle vibration on her phone, reminding her of the message that was still pending response.

Her fingertips lingered over the phone's screen as she paused. For a brief while, however, she allowed herself to accept the lie she had told herself-that everything would be alright-and returned her focus to Simeon's sketch.

With ritualistic calm, the morning unfolded as it always did. Gathering her belongings, getting ready, and taking one last look at her reflection, Mimi went through the motions with a practiced grace. She had taken great care in her attire, selecting a sleek, basic black dress that highlighted her dark hair and accentuated her little frame. The dress she wore when she tried to fit in with a world she didn't entirely belong to was her armor.

Simeon was standing next to her, his gift for James in his hands, the card scrawled in crayon barely concealed by the crumpled wrapping paper. The nagging feeling that something was slipping through Mimi's fingers made her heart soften, yet it was still heavy.

Mimi hesitated as they moved toward the door, looking back at the home. Long shadows were created on the marble floors by the sunshine streaming through the windows. It wasn't a serene scene as it should have been.

The family portrait on the wall caught her attention. The glass wasn't broken, but the frame was. It was James's face, with a jagged line through it distorting the once-bright smile.

As she took a step closer, her breath caught. A metaphor of everything that had gone wrong, the crack went right through his eyes, through the vision she had once treasured. The image was shattered in a way that seemed intimate, not merely damaged. That seemed definitive.

"Mom?" Her mental haze was broken by Simeon's tiny voice. "We must leave. Daddy is going to be there.

Mimi blinked, dismissing the idea. Her gaze lingered on the crack one final time before she straightened up and followed her son. Mimi could feel the weight of that crack in her chest; the image of their ideal family had been destroyed. Already, this day, this birthday, was different.

As she drove through the sun-dappled streets of Las Vegas, Mimi's fingers clenched around the steering wheel, her mind still jumbled with the odd message from the morning. She made an effort to get rid of the uneasiness that was beginning to creep into her chest, but it persisted like an unavoidable shadow. Sitting calmly in the backseat, Simeon was engrossed in his sketching and blissfully oblivious to the anxiety that was beginning to seep into the atmosphere.

Everything was painted in golden tones by the early light that flickered through the glass, but the cozy familiarity of her neighborhood felt far away. She noticed a sleek black automobile in her rearview mirror as she turned into the main roadway that headed to CrossCorp Tower. She didn't give it much thought at first because traffic in Las Vegas had a way of making everything seem like a pursuit. However, the automobile stayed behind her, its headlights steady but dim, as the minutes went by.

Her pulse accelerated. The automobile hadn't faltered, but she wasn't one to make snap judgments. Two lanes back, it was still there, moving with eerie accuracy. Mimi looked in the rearview mirror once more as her breath stuck in her throat. Now the black automobile was nearer. Her thoughts were racing. Was it pursuing her? It must have happened by accident. It must have been. However, she felt exposed and vulnerable because of the way the car seemed to move with her. As she slowed, ready to turn, her gaze shifted between the road ahead and the rearview mirror, the outside world moving in fast-forward.

She abruptly turned the driving wheel, swerving down a side street that would lead her to a new destination. A rapid choice, a sharp corner. However, the black automobile trailed after, its headlights shining in the rearview mirror like twin eyes.

Her stomach grew constricted. The car's engine roared to life beneath her as she pushed the throttle pedal harder. It was no longer merely a coincidence. It was real, whatever it was. It was also refusing to let her go.

For a second, Mimi thought her heart may stop as she was shocked by the sudden vibration of her phone in the cup holder. The uneasiness tightened like a vice in her chest as she reached down to grab it. In the mirror, the black automobile remained a constant presence.

Another message appeared on the phone, its wording straightforward but icy.

"Swivel. There is yet time.

She gasped. She ought to have disregarded the initial message and allowed it to disappear into thin air. Now, though? It was more than a warning now. It was an order. As Mimi held the phone up and stared at the words that appeared to sear into her eyes, her fingers shook.

She took another look in the rearview mirror. The black automobile remained, now too near for comfort. In the distance, the driver was a faceless phantom concealed behind the tinted windows. The car was more than just a transportation, though. Silent and patient, it stalked her through the quiet neighborhoods like a predator. It was a threat.

She tightened her grasp on the steering wheel, her palms slicked with perspiration. What on earth was going on? It was the coldest the city has ever been.

With her heart thumping in her ears, Mimi bit her lip. Must she go back? Is she supposed to pay attention? To what, though? Was this a simple practical joke, or was there more to it?

Her thoughts strayed to James, the celebration she had organized for him, and the flimsy hope that perhaps-just possibly-today would be the day that things began to get better. She needed to concentrate on the strategy. She couldn't allow it to be ruined by this, whatever it was.

But Mimi felt the walls closing in as the automobile drew closer behind her. The car's air became oppressively heavy. And her heart skipped a beat when she looked in the rearview mirror again. No longer was the dark automobile two lanes behind. It was very near, directly behind her. She was being completely engulfed by the shadows cast by its headlights.

With her heart thumping so loudly that she could hardly hear herself, she muttered, "What the hell is happening?"

Simeon cheered from the backseat, his little hands pressed against the window, his eyes gleaming, still clutching his crumpled birthday card. "Look, Mom! It resembles a castle. The fog of Mimi's thoughts was broken by his words.

Mimi looked in the rearview mirror at him. A tiny smile came to her lips, but it was forced, a slender thread of tension in the air. Her chest felt heavy as they drew nearer. The building's weight wasn't the only factor. It was the weight of the promises broken between the walls of the house she had once called home, the memories it held.

She tightened her grasp on the steering wheel, forcing herself to focus. This day was meant to be fantastic. a birthday. An opportunity to remind James of their family. Nevertheless, the excitement that accompanied her visits to CrossCorp seemed like a thing of the past.

Simeon's naive enthusiasm just made her discomfort worse. Was this the right decision? What was it she had hoped for? James would alter all of a sudden? That she would be noticed again by the man who had so long ignored her?

Mimi's stomach turned when the automobile skidded into the parking garage. The hum of activity, the distant clink of pricey heels on marble floors, and the typical crowd of dressed businessmen all felt off. As if a dream had begun to unravel around the edges.

With her heart pounding in her chest, Mimi turned off the engine and parked the car. She was more than simply a wife today. She was a woman today, unsure of what lay ahead.

Mimi walked toward the sleek, glass-fronted reception counter, her heels clicking softly on the polished marble floor. A young woman with blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, the receptionist looked up from her computer and smiled, but it fell short of her eyes. The receptionist asked in a friendly yet cold voice, "How can I help you?"

Mimi's fingers brushed the edge of her tablet as she cleared her throat. This was now her reality, even though she wasn't used to stating it out loud. She steadied herself and stared straight at the receptionist. "My name is Mrs. Cross. I am here to visit my spouse.

For a brief period, the receptionist's smile wavered before she looked down at her screen. The foyer was quiet save for the sound of her fingers dancing across the piano. Mimi's heartbeat accelerated. Her throat clenched into a knot.

The receptionist's face furrowed as her eyes flicked back up. "Mrs. Cross?" The question hung in the air, thick with uncertainty, and she paused. "I'm sorry, I don't see that name listed here."

A beat skipped in Mimi's heart. She looked over her shoulder as if there could be some hint in the world outside the structure. However, all it provided was solitude-the same stifling silence that surrounded her everywhere in the area she used to name her domain.

The receptionist's expression briefly flashed bewilderment before she composed herself and cleared her voice. "I apologize, ma'am. Are you certain that you are on today's guest list? The appointment of James Cross.

She was about to finish when she heard determined, quick footsteps coming from the elevator.

Mimi felt nauseous. She made an effort to control her breathing, but all she could think about was how invisible she felt. A forgotten name in the system. A wife who is forgotten.

The receptionist's eyes brightened with recognition as she looked up from her computer. "Oh! I'm referring to Scarlett Voss. She is now Mrs. Cross.

The words pierced Mimi's chest like knives, causing her breath to catch in her throat. The buzzing in her ears seemed too loud and overbearing, and the world around her seemed to stop.

"Excuse me?" Mimi's voice was hardly audible above a whisper, and her words' tremors betrayed her composed exterior. Her eyes narrowed as she stepped forward. "What just did you say?"

The receptionist smiled clippedly, utterly oblivious to the fury building inside Mimi. Scarlett Voss. She is now Mrs. Cross. The new spouse. They're probably going to make some big announcements shortly. I take it that you're here for the same reason?

Mimi's thoughts were racing. She struggled to maintain a steady breathing pattern as the room around her appeared to stretch and distort. Voss, Scarlett. The lady who had entered her life, who had entered her husband's bed without any opposition, and who didn't seem to care about the harm she was doing.

"Scarlett Voss." As if it were a foreign language, Mimi repeated the name. It sounded phony, like a deception she was unable to shake.

Her eyes darted back to the elevator doors, where she could make out the hazy figure of a person entering, while her stomach rumbled. It was unbearable to imagine James standing there with Scarlett, proudly and publicly referring to her as his wife. Everything she had battled for and sacrificed was taken away from her, and she was publicly humiliated.

Mimi's fingers gripped the edge of the desk as she turned to face the receptionist. She forced herself to speak past the thick lump in her throat by swallowing hard. "Where is James?"

Unaware of the magnitude of the treachery she had just delivered, the receptionist gave her a quick glance. I think he's in a meeting. Alongside Mrs. Cross.

"Why did she say that, Mom?" he said in a bewildered little voice.

Mimi's pulse caught in her throat as her gaze shifted to him. The innocence in Simeon's eyes suddenly felt like a stark reminder of all she had been attempting to escape; he was always so observant and intelligent. How was she going to tell him? How could she account for the woman who had inexplicably entered their lives and taken her place in every way but name?

She averted her eyes and stared at the elevator's shiny floor. "She... Mimi answered quietly, without the conviction she need, "She made a mistake, sweetheart." Although it was a lie, she wasn't ready to break it in front of him.

Simeon took a moment to react, his tiny hands gripping the sides of his gift box while the rumpled card remained inside. Evidently dissatisfied with the response, he shifted uneasily at her side. His silent query was pushing down on Mimi more forcefully than the elevator's chill, and she could feel the weight of his eyes on her. His anchor had just provided him with a meaningless response.

The bell's piercing ding announced their arrival as the elevator lurched to a stop on the thirty-first floor. Mimi inhaled deeply, but the constriction in her chest persisted. This was not a straightforward miscommunication. She wasn't yet ready to deal with this; it was something more.

The foyer was sleek and white and glass when the doors opened. The gentle murmur of quiet talks and the sound of quick footfall punctured the sterile air. Mimi took a step forward, pretending nothing was wrong. However, anxiety had stretched every fiber of her existence. She was anchored in the present when she felt Simeon's tiny hand in hers. They walked around the gleaming room together.

Two staff members entered the elevator as they were heading into the reception area, their laughter piercing the subdued mood. At first, they were too preoccupied with their chat to see Mimi and Simeon. One of the women spoke again, though, her voice pitched just loud enough to be heard as the elevator doors closed behind them.

Have you heard? "Now that Scarlett has James smitten," she remarked, her tone brimming with careless animosity. "I swear, he's practically her puppet because she has him so messed up."

A beat skipped in Mimi's heart. She remained motionless and silent. She felt the cold perspiration starting to gather at the back of her neck, and her hold on the railing tightened. Scarlett. Once more, that name.

In answer, the second woman snorted. Really, it's disgusting. Mimi is no longer even in the running. According to them, James already has plans to make her the new "face" of CrossCorp. His small endeavor. She laughed. It's funny how fast he moved on. I suppose he has discovered someone who is proficient in the game.

Mimi's chest constricted. Like shards of glass, the words pierced the atmosphere, each one going deeper than the one before it. She was having trouble breathing. She was immobile. Unaware of the effect of their comments, the two women shuffled out as the elevator lurched to a stop.

As he pulled on her sleeve, Simeon's tiny voice was almost audible. His big eyes gazed up at her with real curiosity as he inquired, "Who's Scarlett?"

Mimi's breath caught in her throat as the question hovered in the air like a bomb. There was only the weight of her son's naive question for a time while the world outside the elevator appeared to fade and blur. How could she respond? What was she going to say?

With a gentle ping, the doors opened, but Mimi stayed motionless, her pulse pounding in her chest, every part of her yearning to turn around and run away from the reality that was now bearing down on her.

The applause started as soon as she entered the lobby; it was gradual at first, but it seemed to be planned. It was a deafening sound. The intense light from the rapidly flashing cameras was blinding, reflecting off the glass walls and gleaming floors.

the woman's chest constricted. In a manner she was unable to describe, she felt vulnerable and exposed, as if every eye in the room was on her, observing, assessing. They weren't waiting for her, though.

Simeon's tiny voice was hardly audible as he pulled at her sleeve. "What's going on, Mom?"

Her fingers trembled a little as she tightened her grip on his. She glanced around, but for a brief time, the crowd appeared to thin out, and there he was-James, standing in the middle of the room, his arms out wide as though to greet her, a smile on his face.

However, it wasn't James who left her speechless. It was the woman next to him, her palm lightly resting on his breast, her smile premeditated and sly.

Mimi's throat tightened each breath. The lights were bright, as though everything had been stripped of color except for that woman's form, and the acclaim seemed to have faded from her ears. Scarlett.

Now, this was her universe. Mimi was no longer able to deny it.

In a way that made Mimi feel alienated from her own life, she was with James rather than merely standing beside him.

As Scarlett turned to face the throng, her icy, calculating eyes changed slightly, and her smile grew as though she had already prevailed in some unsaid conflict. Her fingers curled possessively around James' arm as her eyes returned to him. Mimi took note of the delicate move, the way Scarlett's contact lingered longer than was necessary, and the unmistakable intimacy of it.

James was the epitome of poise, standing upright in his fitted suit, but Mimi knew otherwise. She noticed that his jaw was slightly tense and that his fists were clenched at his sides, as though he was attempting to keep control of the circumstance. But Scarlett was unfazed. It didn't.

The cheers from the audience became louder, but Mimi could not hear them because of the overwhelming quiet in her ears. What had previously been hers was being claimed by this woman, this stranger. James had never before given her that type of attention or that level of love.

With her pulse racing, Mimi's fingers tightened around her son's tiny palm. It was this. She had never been ready for this reality.

Mimi noticed James's gaze on her through the sea of faces, camera flashes, and constant chatter. Across the room, they locked. For a little moment, the world appeared to stop, but the bond that had previously been between them felt shattered. His mouth opened slightly as though he were going to say something, but he didn't.

As Mimi attempted to interpret the expression in his eyes, her breath caught. Did it involve guilt? Feeling sorry? Or something else? She was unable to contact him and could not tell. The gap between them seemed unfathomably wide, and Scarlett's proximity to him just served to widen it.

With a gentle but forceful voice, Simeon pulled at her once more. "What's wrong, Mom?"

Mimi blinked as she attempted to recover from the fog of betrayal and confusion. Standing there, seeing the guy she had once loved so deeply stand next to another woman, broke the commitment she had made to herself that she would be strong for Simeon.

She made an effort to smile as though nothing was wrong, but it fell short of her eyes.

When James finally looked away, his eyes fell to the ground, and for a split second, Mimi believed she saw something-something genuine, something vulnerable. But before she could take it in, it was gone.

Unable to look at James any longer, she said, "Let's go, sweetheart," and drew Simeon closer.

The sting of his apathy, however, was more intense than anything she had ever experienced as they turned to go.

As Scarlett moved forward, her steps steady and methodical, Mimi stood motionless, her eyes wide with shock. With everyone's attention on the woman who had taken her place in James's life, the room went hushed in expectation. With delicate yet possessive fingers, Scarlett grabbed James's hand and brought his palm to her lips. The moment was captured in a thousand bright, blinding blasts as the cameras flashed once more.

Scarlett's voice boomed, confident and polished, "To the future of CrossCorp with Mr. and Mrs. Cross."

Like a physical blow, the words brought home to Mimi what she had just lost. Standing in the shadow of the moment, her gut twisted under the weight of the public declaration, her heart hammering in her chest. It was not just an announcement. It was a declaration of ownership. A statement that Scarlett, not her, now owned James.

Mimi's throat grew constricted. She had always been aware of the rifts in her marriage, the hints of uncertainty that had gradually infiltrated her life. However, it felt like the last crack as James stood there, so docile and unresponsive to Scarlett's audacious assertion. The guy who had previously spoken promises of eternity had changed. She no longer had him.

Mimi turned away, her back straight, her jaw gritted as the yells and camera clicks blended with the applause that filled the room. She was unable to watch. Not right now. Not in front of strangers in a room where everything she had battled for had been torn away.

With his little fingers squeezed tightly in hers, Simeon pulled at her sleeve. "Mom? What is going on? His voice was bewildered, like a child's naive request for clarification amid the uncertainty. Blinking against the sting of unshed tears, Mimi swallowed. She couldn't allow him to witness her breakdown. Not right now.

As they stood on the edge of the crowd, Simeon's hold on her hand became more firm. His innocent eyes darted between Mimi and the scene playing out in front of them, his little face contorted in bewilderment. Mimi sensed his tenseness, the way his petite frame stiffened next to her, as though he was attempting to make sense of the raging emotional storm in the room. "That's my father!" With a furious, primordial certainty, Simeon's voice broke through the cacophony, louder than it had been during the morning. He gripped the box close to his chest, his hands clinched, small knuckles white against it. He continued, sounding both confused and defiant, as though attempting to assert his authority in a world that felt strange all of a sudden. "That's my mom!" he exclaimed. More than anything Scarlett had done, the piercing sting of his words caused Mimi's heart to heave in her chest. There was no mistaking the fire in her son's eyes as she turned to face him, her eyes wide with dread. He wasn't only a youngster bewildered by what he was seeing. The pain on his face was enough to shatter Mimi's heart in two; he was a child with a strong, instinctive sense of ownership over the people he loved.

Simeon pushed forward before Mimi could respond, moving toward the middle of the room on his tiny feet. His tiny frame moved with a purpose that belied his age, and his eyes were focused on Scarlett and James. As he rushed ahead with reckless abandon, the cake box he had been holding suddenly hung from his hand, forgotten.

He screamed, "Mom! Dad!" with a voice full of emotion and a small frame shaking with hurt and rage. Astonished, the audience turned to observe the scene as it developed.

When Mimi realized what was occurring, her breath seized in her throat. She attempted to approach him, but her body was immobile and her legs felt like lead. It was taking place. Now, right here. And she was unable to stop it.

Simeon's words echoed again, and the room appeared to hold its breath.