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CHAPTER TWELVE: ONLY MY FATHER MATTERS

Author: Penks
last update Last Updated: 2025-05-21 19:04:01

Layla Pov

The mansion's huge front doors, their polished wood mocking my escape, loom before me. Dario's wheelchair obstructs my way, and his dark eyes catch me under the chandelier lighting in the entryway, his figure stark against the moonlight pouring through the glass.

His voice is a low rumble that makes me gasp, "Where do you think you're going, Layla?" The strap of my basic backpack bites into my shoulder as my heart crashes against my ribs. My hands are shaking, but my rumpled blouse and scuffed flats seem like armor.

Even though my chest is trembling, I say sharply, "I'm going to see my father." "I won't remain in this cage; he is all I have."

My devotion to him burns so fiercely that it overpowers Dario's enigmatic safety cautions. Nobody could stop me from figuring out how to get around him while trying to run, so I glared at the second figure, which was the other voice I heard coming down. I figured that this person would be his helper or someone else.

He says in a fir
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  • Married To The Crippled Billionaire    CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT: A DIFFERENT DRIVE

    Layla PovI awoke to the gentle hum of the estate while golden striations appeared on my quilted bedspread as sunshine filtered through the gauzy curtains. The sound of morning birds beckoned me to get out of bed, and I felt lighter today, with the comfort of breakfast and study sessions with Dario clinging to me like a silent pledge. As I stretched, my bare feet grazing the soft blanket, a mixture of excitement and scepticism flickered through my mind: Can I believe this sensation?In order to enhance my confidence, I wore tailored pants with a simple yet elegant fit and a cream shirt with a silky texture that felt good against my skin for Harmony Haven. My fingers were lingering over a hair tie when I stopped at the mirror. Although tying it felt secure and in control, I wanted to let things happen naturally and keep Dario's warmth. My weak-to-strong arc stirred as I wore my hair loose, its waves grazing my shoulders as a sign of openness. Under the large windows, the kitchen's spot

  • Married To The Crippled Billionaire    CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN:THE SPARK BEGINS

    As I stared into Dario's study's silent glow, my heart lurched as his eyes locked with mine. I had been preoccupied with him, not the Child Psychology book on my lap, but with his powerful jaw and the way his old grey shirt embraced his shoulders. I attempted to hide it, furrowing my forehead as though I was thinking deeply, but his gentle, playful tone broke through my armour. "Is that book difficult for you?" he enquired, examining my unread pages. "How about looking it up online?" I felt a heat crawl up my neck and my cheeks burned as his eyes twinkled, as if he knew I had been daydreaming. This man had exposed my deception, and my weak-to-strong arc was telling me to defend myself as my thoughts frantically searched for a way out.I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and mumbled, "Uh, yeah," speaking too quickly. It's a thick book. The Internet is most likely superior. Although it was clear that I was nervous, Dario's smile broadened and his laughter was sympathetic rather than m

  • Married To The Crippled Billionaire    CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN: THE SPARK BEGINS

    As I stared into Dario's study's silent glow, my heart lurched as his eyes locked with mine. I had been preoccupied with him, not the Child Psychology book on my lap, but with his powerful jaw and the way his old grey shirt embraced his shoulders. I attempted to hide it, furrowing my forehead as though I was thinking deeply, but his gentle, playful tone broke through my armor. "Is that book difficult for you?" he inquired, examining my unread pages. "How about looking it up online?" I felt a heat crawl up my neck and my cheeks burned as his eyes twinkled, as if he knew I had been daydreaming. This man had exposed my deception, and my weak-to-strong arc was telling me to defend myself as my thoughts frantically searched for a way out.I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and mumbled, "Uh, yeah," speaking too quickly. It's a thick book. The Internet is most likely superior. Although it was clear that I was nervous, Dario's smile broadened and his laughter was sympathetic rather than mo

  • Married To The Crippled Billionaire    CHAPTER TWENTY SIX: DRAWN TO HIM

    Layla Pov The breakfast remained like a smoldering spark in my heart. Or the heir in a wheelchair, but the man who noticed me. I, therefore, came up with a justification: research for my Harmony Haven lesson. The reality? Children were off for a public holiday. All I wanted was to be close to him, which is what I love about school. Nestled in the west wing of the Harrison estate, Dario's study was a sanctuary of intelligence. The walls were lined with dark oak shelves that were piled high with business files and leather-bound books, their edges worn from years of use. The space was anchored by a mahogany desk that was strewn with documents and a modern laptop, demonstrating Dario's proficiency. A leather armchair by a large window and the burgundy carpeting were warmed by the soft light that split from a bronze lamp. The scent of cedar and old paper permeated the air, providing a peaceful counterpoint to the sparkling mayhem of the Vance dinner party. Dario was sitting at the desk w

  • Married To The Crippled Billionaire    CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE: THIS MOMENT

    Layla Pov To get to know him without fear, I wanted to go with the flow. So I thought we could start simply by having breakfast together. With sunlight pouring through large windows and warming the polished oak floor, the dining area felt like a welcoming haven. The aroma of a vase of lilies on the table blended with the richness of the freshly brewed coffee. Across from the dining room, a modern kitchen counter shined, a coffee maker, and a basket of croissants resting on its marble surface. With his wheelchair hidden away in a corner, its frame gleaming in the sun, Dario relaxed on a soft grey couch near the dining table. His wide shoulders were embraced by his classic navy shirt, which was genuine and not a copycat. The sleeves were pulled up, which lessened his often intense demeanor.My heart skipped a beat when his dark hair was a little disheveled, and his deep eyes scanned a tablet with quiet intent. As I walked across to the kitchen counter, I remarked, "Good morning," in a

  • Married To The Crippled Billionaire    CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: THE FAMILY TABLE

    Layla Pov Expecting a happy party, a chance to relieve the stress of my marriage to Dario, and a chance to feel some love from his family, I enter the courtyard of the Harrison family mansion. Lowering my defenses when he rolled into my room yesterday with a navy silk frock balanced on his lap. In a quiet but determined voice, he said, "For the family dinner." "I want you with me there." The gown shone in the lamplight, its subtle beauty a striking contrast to my battered hands and shabby jumper. Was this a sign of reconciliation or just another trick in his toolbox? I nodded, tempted by a glimmer of hope that I may catch sight of the man hiding in the shadow.When Dario and I walk into the garden, the looks come like a chilly wind, destroying my idea of a cozy get-together. Fairy lights flicker among old oaks, illuminating well-kept hedges and marble fountains with a golden glow, their gentle whispers overpowered by the weight of eyes—judging, dissecting. Standing next to me, Dario

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