All Chapters of BOUND TO THE CRIPPLED CEO : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

DANICA“Five minutes, Danica. Be ready outside.” Ivan's voice, sharp and commanding, seeped in from behind the door.“Almost done,” I called back, hurrying to get everything right for the last time. “I just have to brush Valerie’s hair.”Just like Ivan had said, two days ago when he barged into my room, we had a court wedding to prepare for. I paused at my reflection in the ornate mirror, my fingers sweeping over my dress to smooth non-existent creases. Anything to buy me more time.On the surface, I looked calm and my dress clung perfectly to my curves, but my eyes betrayed the turmoil brewing inside–a mix of anxiety and uncertainty that had my nerves tangled in knots. “Hey, baby,” I whispered as I knelt in front of Valerie. Her big eyes sparkled with that innocent light that made my heart ache. “Remember what Mummy told you? We’re going on a little trip. Mummy just has to sign some papers with Mr. Ivan… then we’ll come home. Okay?”“To make him my new daddy?” Valerie squeaked excit

DANICALeaving Ivan standing there, I burst into one of the unused corridor bathrooms like someone was chasing me, my hands trembling as I fumbled with the light switch.“Oh my God,” I whispered.My reflection in the mirror was a mess. Pale face. Wide eyes. And a smear of vomit glistening at the corner of my lips like some dreadful badge of humiliation.The full weight of what had just happened hit me like a slap. I had just thrown up all over Ivan Clarkson— my aloof, ill tempered husband.“Way to go Danica,” I scolded myself as I reached for the tap, turning it on.A sharp wave of nausea rose again, but I gripped the sink until my knuckles went white and fought it back. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes.“Get it together, Danica,” I scolded again. “This isn't the time to be emotional.”I yanked tissues from the dispenser, dabbing at my lips before wiping my chin. I splashed my face with cold running water, again and again, feeling its sting as my hands grew slightly steadier.Wi

IVAN“Get me coffee.”“Yes, sir” Mia's voice crackled through the intercom. Staring at the empty mug on the desk, which seemed to be mocking me, I needed a refill as quickly as possible. My eyes flicked to the towering stack of files on my desk. The pain of no longer being handicapped was real. But I'd be damned if I ever chose sitting in a wheelchair all day, compared to this, even if my bones ached from overuse.My phone buzzed endlessly, lighting up with notifications. I ignored it, flipping through the bulky pages that urgently needed my attention, my signature appearing at the bottom of each like a stamp.“Your coffee, Mr. Ivan.” Mia entered my office, her footsteps made light clicking sounds, as she placed another mug of freshly brewed coffee on my desk, at the same time taking away the empty one. “Anything else sir?”“Yes,” I replied, already reaching for the coffee. “Run me through my schedule.”“Of course,” she began smoothly. “You have a virtual meeting at twelve with Mr. P

DANICA“What took you so long?” he asked, stopping a few inches from me, so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Uhm... S-sorry if we kept you waiting. I wasn't expecting to see you,” I stammered.“Wait for us in the car John,” his gaze barely flickered to John before settling back on me.As John left the store, a sales lady materialized behind us. Her perfect smile, matching her perfect hair. “Welcome Mr. Clarkson! How may I assist you today?”“She needs a complete wardrobe update,” he declared with an air of finality.“But I have clothes—”“You’ll need appropriate attire for family functions and social events.” His tone left no room for argument. His eyes scanned me quickly, disapproving. “This isn’t it.”The associate's eyes lit up like she had won the lottery. “Of course! Right this way.”“Ivan, really, this isn't necessary—”His lips brushed my ears. “Consider it part of our arrangement. Unless you'd prefer everyone who knows me think you have a thing for rags.”

DANICAThe morning started with the same soft chaos I had grown used to— hair ribbons missing, toast slightly burned, and Valerie talking non-stop about unicorn dreams and wanting her breakfast shaped like a heart. Despite the chef being around, I preferred to make my baby's breakfast myself.“Sit still, baby. Let me finish your hair.”“But it's too tight,” she whined, wiggling in front of me.I gently tugged her closer, packing her hair into a ponytail. “If you sit still for two minutes, I’ll let you pick two gummies for your lunch box.”“Two?” Her eyes lit up.“Yes.”She clapped excitedly. “Hurray!”Once her hair was finally done, she hopped down to wear the yellow gown she’d picked out herself last night, the same one she’d said—again—was her new favorite. I watched her twirl, the hem of her dress spinning with her.“You look beautiful,” I smiled, crouching to help her slip on her tiny shoes. “Are you ready for your big day?”She nodded with all the enthusiasm in the world. “Yes! B