Reborn To The Wife of a Billionaire with Disabilities

he movement felt like dragging

back of her throat. It triggered a violent heave in her stomach

wool carpet like discarded rags. Empty liquor bottles caught

ed the center of her skull.

moments of a marginalized Hollywood actress. The sheer volume of the data made her vision blur. She pressed

mattress. Her bare feet h

her was striking, even under the heavy, smeared smoky makeup. The skin was pale, the cheekbo

police sirens cut

een moved to the window. Her muscles felt stiff, uncoordinated. She hooke

he Beverly Hills

robe lights, turning the dark street into blinding daylight. She could hear the dis

he blind

scarded silk garments. Her fingers brushed against cold meta

op of each other. The Twitter icon displayed a bright red bubble with a four-digit number. Her nam

out a short

panic that the original owner of this body would have felt was completely

s struck the solid mahogany

t carried the weight of someone wh

e reached down and grabbed a beige trench coat off the sofa. She swung it over

. Her bare feet made no so

b. She did not check the peephole. She did not hesita

light of the hallway sp

ece suit. His silver hair was combed back perfectly. He

e dropp

gh-tech, custom-built wheelchair. Sitting

hers. They were like frozen Siberian soil. There was no heat in h

heart s

d terror of this man. But Eileen forced her spine straight. She locked her knees. S

e did n

egant fingers and made a shar

a blank mask. He pulled a thick, gold-embossed folder fr

owered h

he cover read: Divorc

r the folder. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, leaning her shoulder cas

d. The wrinkles arou

straightforward. Mr. Vinson is offering a severance package of fifty m

illion

amount in this world. Then, she calculated her survival rate in Hollywood without the protection of the Vinson family name. The

rossed

. She pulled it from the butler's hands. She flipped open the heavy cover, her

's jaw c

ly what he always knew she was: a gold digger checking the zeros on her payout. He reached

ack echoed throu

nd. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet

ard. The distance be

t. The force of the impact made the older man stumble back hal

at her. His pu

etal armrests of Carlisle's wheelchair. She leaned in, bringing her

ectly into his

signing,"

shake. It held no hysteria, on

r as if a stranger had just crawled into his wife's skin. He could not reconcile

t give them t

ned her back on them, walking into the walk-in closet. She

bed the handle and pulled the suite d

s still frozen in his chair. She fl

ing off her tongue with delibera