LOGINTheodore Myers POV“That bad?” I couldn’t stop the smirk tugging at my mouth, though the mask hid it well.This woman—my wife—had a fire I didn’t expect. Feisty. Reckless. Unpredictable. I never imagined marriage would come wrapped in this kind of chaos, yet here she was, testing me at every turn.She said she didn’t think I was that bad. Like she’d never met me at all. Like she had no idea how bad I could be.“Yeah, you're suffering like me. I thought we were similar,” she justified, stumbling over her words.Should I be grateful for that? The thought almost amused me. “I’m Theodore Myers. No one makes me suffer. Not even if I’m crippled. Not even if the world tries.”No one gets to pity me.“Totally got it now—you’re an arsehole.” Her words only fed the anger already simmering in me.I was trying to keep control, but she’d been testing me since the moment we met. And I didn’t like it. Not one bit.How could anyone dare to mess with Theodore Myers? Especially *her*—the one forced on
Irene Jones POV “You think I give two fucks about that?” The words snapped out before I could stop them. This man really had the nerve to force me into this and still expected me to care about what he thought.I was on edge—who wouldn’t be? Trapped in a car at night with a man who was my husband only on paper, his face hidden behind a mask, his body wrapped up so tight he looked more like a shadow than a person.It was almost funny. Almost. The kind of funny that made my skin crawl if I thought about it too long.“This tongue of yours won’t lead you anywhere good.” Theodore’s chuckle came low, like he found the whole thing entertaining.The engine growled to life. A soft click followed, and the glass partition slid up, sealing the front from the back. It left me alone with him—and the kind of silence that pressed on my chest like a weight.“How about you let me stay in my apartment? Then my tongue won’t be such an issue, Mr. Myers,” I muttered, sarcasm biting at every word. “And if n
Irene Jones POV I sprinted outside, ignoring Albert’s warning. Hell, I’d rather beg on the streets than set foot in the Myers mansion—or anywhere I couldn’t predict what waited for me. Theodore might have been my husband, but only on paper. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to go anywhere.” I didn’t look back. Albert was still pushing Theodore’s wheelchair—I could hear it. “Mrs. Myers, you’re going to regret this.” His voice carried no urgency, no panic. I didn’t get far. A cluster of men in black appeared ahead, blocking the path. One glance was enough. Theodore’s guards. Fuck. Why the hell did he need this many? It wasn’t like he had come here for war. Or… had he expected me to run? “We don’t want to force you, Madam,” one of them said evenly. Hot-blooded as I was, I knew I couldn’t outrun men built like them. One stepped forward. I backed up instinctively, my toes skidding over gravel. My breath caught sharp, chest tightening. Another guard angled in from the side. They’re cl
Irene Jones POV I jumped to my feet, heart pounding at the sound of a voice that didn’t belong to the men already inside my apartment. “Young master.” They bowed in unison. I turned sharply to see who they meant. Albert stood at the doorway, pushing a wheelchair. In it sat a man in black, fine fabrics covering his frame, a mask hiding his face so completely I couldn’t see his eyes. “Who are you?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Your husband. Theodore Myers.” Goosebumps broke across my skin. Even Cyril had never unsettled me like this. “Mrs. Myers.” Albert’s tone stayed calm. “I told you before—you needed to move to the mansion. But you ran away. That is why the young master came himself. The guards are here to transfer your belongings.” So they were all his guards. The air grew heavy around me. “I…” My throat closed. All I had ever heard was that Theodore was a cripple meant for Misha. And now here he was, masked and gloved, hidden under layers of dark clothin
Irene Jones POV “No thanks.” I stared him down, heat crawling up my chest. How the fuck could he dare congratulate me—now, of all times? Screw the whole Myers family. Screw the Jones family too. “We’re going. I need to take you to the Myers mansion.” He snatched the papers from my hands as if the right belonged to him. Somehow, he managed to be both polite and rude at once—probably because even he knew I was nothing but a substitute. I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m going back to my apartment.” He started to reply, but I turned and walked away before he could speak. Life couldn’t be this cruel. I needed air, needed space. Trapped in this marriage or not, I wasn’t chaining myself to the Myers estate. I’d already fought my way out of the Jones mess for a sliver of freedom in my own apartment, and only my dead body was going back into that cage. Sometimes I wondered—if my mom hadn’t married Leo Jones, would it have changed anything? Who was I kidding? She would’ve tre
Irene Jones POV “Why should I leave you?” Did he really just ask that? I didn’t even know this man, and he was far too close. “I should be asking why the hell you’re doing this. What’s wrong with you?” “Because I want to sleep with you.” His smirk deepened as though the words were meant to amuse him. My heart twisted, my soul ready to abandon my body altogether. The audacity of this man belonged in a textbook. “I’m your brother’s bride. How can you even talk like this?” I shoved at his chest, but he caught my wrists mid-motion and pressed them above my head, his strength suffocating in its ease. Pain jolted across my spine as my body arched away from him. His lips curled, pleased by my discomfort. “Yet to be a bride. And a substitute for that.” The back of his knuckles skimmed my jaw with deliberate lightness, a mockery of tenderness. “And what’s the problem in sleeping with a handsome man like me? A man who has more value than my disabled cousin?” The words landed harder than







