“Doris, sweetheart… don’t you think it’s time we seriously consider adoption?”

I glanced up at Ronnie from my seat in the wheelchair. His gaze was hopeful, lips curled into that warm, too-perfect smile he wore like a mask. I’d known this conversation was coming. He had been laying the groundwork for days—showing up with breakfast trays, fluffing pillows, doting on me like I was the love of his life.

Too bad I already knew who he truly loved.

He had been secretly meeting with Margaret—the Krystale woman he was planning to marry while parading me around as his fiancée. The woman for whom he’d orchestrated every lie, every betrayal, right down to the wedding we were never truly going to have.

But I didn’t care anymore. I was healing—slowly regaining strength in my legs. My body, once broken, was beginning to remember how to move. I hadn’t told Ronnie about that progress. Why would I? He’d lost the right to know anything about me.

If he wanted to rush into adoption to complete his little charade, I would let him. I’d smile. I’d agree. And I’d use every second to regain control of what he thought he’d stolen.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” I replied, curling my lips into a soft smile.

He looked stunned for a moment. “Seriously? Just like that?”

I nodded, playing the role of the agreeable fiancée. “You're right. We should take the next step. If children aren’t in the cards biologically, then adoption is a good path. Besides…” I glanced down at my lap, feigning vulnerability. “Being stuck like this... it’s been depressing. A baby might give me something to look forward to.”

He let out a visible breath, his shoulders lowering. “Good. That’s great, actually. I’ve supported an orphanage for years. We could head there today, meet some of the kids.”

Today? He had this planned down to the hour.

Still, I nodded. “Sure. Let’s go.”

The orphanage was everything a brochure would boast: warm, welcoming, full of light. Children’s laughter echoed in the halls, and colorful murals lined the walls. Staff smiled politely as we entered, their expressions a mix of curiosity and polite interest.

Then it happened.

A little girl with big, expressive brown eyes and bouncing curls dashed through the room. She didn’t hesitate—ran straight into Ronnie’s arms.

“Daddy!”

The word pierced through me.

She threw herself around his waist, hugging him tightly like a child who had done this many times before.

Ronnie stiffened. “Doris, don’t overthink it,” he said, quickly peeling the child’s arms off him. “The kids here call me ‘Dad’ because I donate regularly.”

“Of course,” I said, forcing a serene expression. “That’s very sweet.”

The little girl—her name was Krystal—grinned up at him with a familiarity that made my stomach churn. Her features, her eyes, her smile... she didn’t just resemble Ronnie.

She looked like Margaret.

“She’s a sweetheart, isn’t she?” Ronnie asked, clearing his throat.

“She actually looks a lot like you,” I said, tilting my head, watching his reaction.

Ronnie laughed nervously. “Well, that just means she’ll be a good match, right?”

He didn’t deny it. I felt... nothing. Not anger. Not surprise. Just confirmation.

“Maybe we should adopt her,” I said lightly, my voice sugar-sweet.

Ronnie hesitated for a fraction of a second before searching my face, like he wasn’t sure if I was serious—or if I had finally put the puzzle together. But he didn’t know me. Not really. Not anymore.

He thought I was a naive woman clinging to a broken love.

He’d soon learn he was dead wrong.

After a pause, he nodded. “Perfect. Let’s make it happen.”

He stayed behind to fill out the necessary forms. I wheeled myself down one of the quieter corridors, needing a moment to breathe away from his suffocating presence.

That’s when I overheard the staff.

“Can you believe Mr. Brown is letting his biological daughter pose as an orphan?”

A scoff followed. “And now he wants to adopt her like she’s not even his? That’s twisted.”

“Poor fiancée,” another voice said with pity. “She’s completely in the dark.”

My grip tightened on the armrests of the wheelchair. So it was true. Krystal was Ronnie’s child. I should have felt furious, betrayed—but the truth? I was numb. There was nothing left in me to break.

I already knew. I just needed proof.

I was turning around, ready to leave before they noticed me, when I caught another voice.

“Mommy!”

It was Krystal’s voice. Sweet, innocent, and full of affection. I wheeled around the corner and saw Margaret standing beside her. Krystal held her hand, eyes shining.

The moment they noticed me, Ronnie rushed to intercept.

“Oh, Doris,” he said, too casually. “Krystal calls her ‘Mommy’ because Margaret volunteers a lot. It’s just a term of endearment, you know? Nothing serious.”

I laughed. Out loud. Couldn’t help myself.

He was unbelievable. Absolutely shameless.

“Doris!” Margaret greeted me with a bright smile, walking over with the confidence of someone who thought she’d won. “So good to see you again.”

“You too,” I said, managing a smile that felt more like baring teeth.

“I hope your recovery is going well,” she said sweetly. “Ronnie mentioned you might still want to go through with the wedding. If you’d like, I could be your stand-in. Just until you’re feeling stronger.”

She paused, then smirked. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to roll down the aisle in your wheelchair. But I’m not sure how the press—or Ronnie’s parents—would feel about that kind of image.”

The venom was expertly veiled. But it still stung.

“That’s really generous of you,” I said with a polite nod. “Thanks for being so understanding.”

She blinked at my calm. “Sure... no problem.”

Ronnie’s eyes shifted between us, trying to read me.

“I’ll wait outside,” I told him, turning my wheelchair toward the exit.

He stepped forward. “Wait—are you okay? You don’t seem upset.”

I stopped and tilted my head. “Why would I be? Did you lie to me? Did you do something wrong?”

His jaw clenched. “No. Of course not.”

“Then I don’t see a reason to be angry,” I said sweetly and left him standing there in silence.

I made it to the front steps before I heard hurried footsteps behind me.

Margaret.

She fell into step beside my wheelchair, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

“You really think playing dumb is going to work?” she sneered.

I turned to her, expression blank. “Sorry?”

She rolled her eyes. “How long are you planning to pretend? You know what’s going on. So what’s your move, Doris? When are you going to finally let him go?”

I gave her a long look, calm and steady. “Let him go?” I repeated. “Funny. I was just about to ask you the Krystale thing.”

I tilted my head slightly, observing Margaret with a quiet, amused stare. Her entire body radiated anger—hands balled into fists, jaw tight, her gaze locked onto me like I was the last obstacle standing in her way. She looked like someone already certain she’d won.

“Still pretending you don’t know?” she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice laced with scorn.

I chuckled softly, feigning innocence. “Sorry? You’ve lost me.”

Her eyes darted around. She stepped closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m only saying this because I want you gone. Don’t you dare mention this to Ronnie.”

I raised an eyebrow, giving her my best impression of curiosity. “Alright, I’m listening.”

She leaned in, her tone sharp and deliberate. “Ronnie’s not in love with you. He never was. He’s using you, Doris. This is all about payback. It’s revenge, not romance.”

I kept my expression unreadable.

Margaret misread my silence as intrigue. Her lips curved into a smug little smile as she pressed forward. “Your brother took something that was meant to be Ronnie’s—a company, a future. And now Ronnie’s punishing him through you.”

I widened my eyes ever so slightly. “That’s... quite the story.”

“I’m not finished,” she said, clearly enjoying herself now.

Then came the twist she thought would shatter me. “That girl—Krystal? She’s not just any kid. She’s ours. Mine and Ronnie’s.”

Of course I knew that. But I gasped softly anyway, parting my lips as if the revelation had stunned me to my core.

Margaret stepped back, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Now, with all that in mind, I think it’s time for you to back out. The ceremony? It belongs to me.”

For a moment, I let the silence stretch out between us. Then, slowly, I began to laugh.

Her smile faltered. “What’s so funny?”

Looking her dead in the eye, I replied, “And what if I don’t feel like walking away?”

She blinked. “Didn’t you hear me? What more do you need to know?”

“Oh, I heard every word,” I said coolly. “But why should I make it easy for you?”

Margaret’s lips thinned, her face twisting into barely concealed rage.

I leaned forward, my voice lowered to a murmur only she could hear. “You want him? Take him. But don’t think I’ll go quietly. Don’t think I won’t fight back.”

As I began to wheel myself away, Margaret lunged. She gripped my arm and yanked me sideways. Pain flared in my legs as they jolted with the sudden movement.

I winced but didn’t fight her. That was what she wanted—for me to strike back. Instead, she struck herself across the face, hard enough to redden her cheek.

I inhaled sharply. My stomach twisted. So this is what it had come to?

“Help!” Margaret screamed, her voice echoing through the corridor.

Within seconds, the doors burst open. Ronnie came running in, with Krystal gripping his hand tightly.

“Mommy!” Krystal cried out, rushing to Margaret’s side.

Margaret collapsed to the floor, holding her cheek like it had been crushed. “She hit me!” she wailed.

Ronnie’s face darkened, turning toward me.

Krystal’s voice trembled with betrayal. “Did you hurt my mommy?”

“Yes,” Margaret sniffled, staring up at him. “She got angry—she thought I was going to steal you. I was only trying to help. I even offered to be her stand-in for the wedding. I never meant to hurt her.”

How pathetic. Their lies weren’t even clever anymore. I had once been blind, but now I saw everything for what it was.

Ronnie’s glare was fierce. “Doris, seriously? Why would you attack her? You could’ve just talked to me.”

I forced my tone to remain calm. “She provoked me. She told me to disappear. To leave you.”

Margaret gasped dramatically. “That’s a lie! I told her I respected her. I told her I was here to support her, not replace her!”

Ronnie crossed his arms. “Why would Margaret lie? She’s been nothing but kind. You’re just... making a scene.”

“She—”

He cut me off. “You're in a wheelchair, Doris. And you're still causing drama? Really?”

Krystal’s eyes narrowed at me, her tiny face twisted in disgust. “You’re mean! Stay away from my daddy!”

I didn’t respond. I sat still as Ronnie helped Margaret up—gently, lovingly—without sparing me so much as a glance.

He carried her out like she was the one needing comfort.

I was left alone on the cold floor.

A few minutes passed before a nurse came rushing in to help me. I let her assist me without protest. But inside? I was done. Utterly and completely done. I no longer wanted closure or forgiveness.

I wanted retribution.

Later that night, Ronnie entered my room with an apologetic sigh. “I’m sorry for earlier.”

I didn’t speak.

He sat on the edge of my hospital bed, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly stressed. “I had to take care of Margaret first. I’m sure you understand.”

I gave him a small nod, my eyes vacant.

“She’s agreed to stand in for you tomorrow,” he said, watching for my reaction. “I need her to be okay for that.”

I didn’t even blink. “I see.”

His shoulders eased. “You’ve always been so reasonable. That’s one of the things I love about you.”

I smiled faintly.

He reached out and took my hand. “Just hang in there, okay? Let me get through the ceremony. It may be Margaret standing there tomorrow, but it’s still our marriage license. You and I will have a real wedding after your recovery.”

I tilted my head, feigning trust. “Of course. I understand.”

Ronnie exhaled, relieved. “That’s why I chose you. You get it.”

He brushed a kiss against my forehead before leaving.

The next morning, Ronnie and Margaret left together for the venue. He looked proud. Triumphant.

He had no idea what was coming.

Meanwhile, my brother had arranged for a car to pick me up. I was going home. I didn’t say a word as I was taken to the private airstrip. A plane awaited me.

Back at the wedding venue, Ronnie stood confidently beside Margaret. Cameras flashed, music played. This was his fantasy come to life.

Until it all fell apart.

A staff member came rushing toward him, pale as a ghost. “Sir,” he gasped, clearly out of breath. “I have urgent news.”

Ronnie turned, frowning. “What now?”

The man hesitated. “It’s Miss Doris. She... she boarded a private jet this morning. The aircraft went missing. Authorities say it likely went down over the sea.”