Manipulation of a Blind Actress

Clover’s POV

When I said goodnight and retreated to our bedroom, I couldn’t hold back the smirk tugging at my lips. If only Zade knew. If only he had even the slightest clue what Jeff and I accomplished today.

Three hidden cameras.

One disguised as a salt shaker straight on the dining table.

One tucked behind the photo frame on the left wall.

And another tucked low on the opposite side, where no one would bother to look.

My husband had no idea he’d just performed tonight’s betrayal dinner on camera.

I shook my head and laughed quietly as I entered the bathroom. I slipped out of Zade’s shirt and let it fall to the floor. I cleaned off my makeup, letting the day wash off my skin, and then pulled down my hair. The curls tumbled around my shoulders, wild, soft, and very much alive.

Then I stripped out of everything else.

I grabbed a fitted white tank top and a pair of cheeky panties, black. Simple, bare, soft and exposed all at the same time.

This wasn’t how I usually slept anymore. Not since the accident. Before then, I used to sleep unbothered, comfortable, but cute. After I lost my sight, I lost a lot of myself too. I stopped caring about how I looked. Stopped caring about softness, beauty, and gave zero effort.

If I couldn’t see, why did it matter?

But that phases me is dead and buried and will never be resurrected again.

I fluffed my hair, applied a thin layer of gloss to my lips, and climbed into bed. The room glowed softly from the TV, which I always kept on—even when I was “completely blind.” The background noise calmed me. Tonight I chose the Investigation Discovery channel because what is a better lullaby than a true crime series?

I pulled out my phone and opened the camera feed. I turned the volume up to listen.

Those two idiots were still downstairs just chatting away.

Daisy’s voice came through first, sharp and shrill:

“So, Zade, why couldn’t you tell your wife I’m pregnant with your child?”

My jaw clenched.

Zade hissed, “Keep your voice down. Jeff is here.”

“Fuck Jeff,” she snapped. “He’s the help. And I’m carrying your baby. Your wife is blind and she doesn’t know anything. Do you honestly think she’s going to walk away from you, and all of this? That little poor orphan, come on. I think you need to tell her. Your mother already knows, and she's ecstatic about the baby plus she can’t stand your wife anyways. She said she’s a user who married you for your money. If it wasn’t for that accident, you never would've married her.”

My hand trembled around the phone.

Not out of sadness, but out of fury.

Zade let out a long breath.

“I love my wife. I truly do, and I don’t know what you get out of trying to twist it, but I love her.”

Silence.

Then Daisy scoffed.

“So what are you saying, that you don’t love me?”

I held my breath.

Zade hesitated…then grabbed her hand.

“Of course I love you,” he whispered. “You’ve been in my life since grade school and the shit we went through for those five terrifying days. Of course I love you.”

I stared at the screen, expression cold as steel.

Daisy went on, “Then why don’t you just tell your wife that your best friend and the love of your life is having your child? I didn’t force your hand.”

He shook his head. “I can’t. And I won’t.”

“Well, you better figure something out before the gala next weekend, because if you don’t tell her soon… I will.”

“No,” he snapped. “You’re not telling her.”

“Yes, I am. Blind or not, she deserves to know.”

My smile was razor sharp.

Everything I needed for divorce court

was being delivered to me

on a buffet platter.

I exited the feed, tossed my phone aside, and turned my attention back to the TV just as Deadly Women started playing.

I laughed softly.

Hell, I could star in one if these episodes.

About an hour later, the bedroom door cracked open.

I kept my body still, pretending I hadn’t heard a thing.

“Babe? You still awake?”

“Yeah,” I murmured. “Just listening to the TV.”

He sighed, relieved.

“Oh, okay. I’m gonna shower and then get in bed with you.”

“Sure.”

He went through his nightly routine. Quick shower. Brushed teeth. Washed face. The usual. When he stepped out wearing only pajama pants, I inhaled deeply despite myself.

Damn him.

Even now, with betrayal soaked into his skin, he was still an extremely handsome ass man.

I exhaled slowly.

I hated that I reacted to him. Hated that my body remembered things I wished it would forget. Hated that I had to wonder who he touched first. Who he touched last. Was it me or her?

Love wasn’t supposed to feel contaminated.

He lifted the covers, slipped into bed, and froze.

“What are you sleeping in, hon?”

I turned lazily toward him.

“Oh. I just…didn’t feel like being restricted tonight. Wanted to be comfortable. Why? Is something wrong with it?”

His eyes darkened, heat flooding his expression.

“Oh, no. Not at all.”

His pants tightened.

Significantly.

I smirked without letting him see, so I thought.

“You’re smirking,” he said. “Did you hear something funny?”

“No.”

Just your guilt strangling you I wanted to say.

“You look really sexy right now,” he added. “Did you wear this for me?”

“No. I wore it for myself.”

He slid closer beneath the blanket and wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into him. His hand slipped under my shirt, resting warm against my lower back.

“I love this side of you,” he murmured against my ear. “This uninhibited side.”

“Mm,” I said. “My uninhibited side.”

He chuckled softly.

“Yeah.”

As I stretched out, my thigh brushed his upper thighs and his body reacted instantly, and I felt his dick twitch

His breath caught.

My smirk deepened.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice low. "Yes, why are you asking," as I continue to rub my thigh up and down. “Just trying to make sure you’re alright?”

“If you’re hinting at having sex,” I said plainly, “I’m not in the mood.” As I continued to move my leg up and down brushing against his hardening cock.

He froze.

“Oh. Okay.”

He sounded deflated, wounded, and very shocked.

In our five years together, I had never once turned him down. Not once.

His hand moved up my side, shifting my shirt aiming for my breast.

I shifted just enough to deny him.

“So that’s definitely a no?” he asked quietly.

“That’s a no,” I said as his well endowed cock was now at full attention.

He sighed, a long, frustrated exhale, and shut off the lights. He grabbed the remote and flipped to HBO or some sports thing, pretending to be engrossed. His hand still rubbed my back, searching for closeness I refused to give.

Eventually, I rolled onto my back.

My shirt lifted just enough.

His breathing deepened.

I turned again, curling slightly, letting my ass brush against him.

He groaned all quiet and desperate.

I almost laughed.

Soon enough, sleep took me.

But before I drifted off, one thought settled heavy and certain in my mind that Zade had no idea what was coming.

Next week, at his family party, the party where his mother would glare at me thinking I won't be able to see her, where his brother Dustin would lurk with whatever strange agenda he carried, where the Blackwoods would mingle with the Smiths as Daisy Blackwood would play her smug little role, but

I would play mine.

Not the blind little wife.

Not the broken one.

Not the forgiving one.

I would walk into that room prepared.

And when the reckoning hits?

He’d never forget it.

Not as long as he lived.