"Are you taking it off yourself, or do you need me to do it for you?"
The man's contempt hit Clara Whitfield right where she was weakest.
She felt the zipper at the back of her wedding dress slide loose. Cool air brushed across the skin suddenly exposed, and she instantly clutched the skirt to her chest. When she turned, she ran straight into those dark, heavy eyes.
"The one wearing that wedding dress should've been your sister. Not you."
His sharp question made her chest tighten.
Ethan Mercer, heir to Haishi's biggest business empire. He was supposed to be her brother-in-law.
Now he was her husband.
All because Serena Holloway, her younger half-sister from the same mother, had run from the wedding.
After years of barely contacting her, her mother, Gloria Holloway, had suddenly shown up at her door. The first thing out of her mouth was that she wanted Clara to marry in Serena's place.
Gloria had grabbed her hand and pleaded, "Lara, how can that tiny salary of yours possibly cover your dad's nursing home bills? Just help your sister this one time. After that, the Holloway family will handle all the medical expenses."
Clara had refused on the spot.
But after that day, her father vanished.
The Holloway family had taken her father away. A man already lost to dementia, used like a bargaining chip to force her into this wedding dress.
Clara had no way out. Life had always been brutal to her, but her father was the only person in the world who had ever truly loved her.
She had to bring him back.
She swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat, lowered her head, and forced out a sentence to the man in front of her.
"Mr. Mercer, this is a business marriage either way. Marrying me... it's still the same."
"Look at me when you talk."
His voice was flat, but it landed like an ice spike in her ear. Ethan gripped her chin and tilted her face up, leaving her nowhere to hide. Her eyes met his directly.
And then she saw it clearly—what was hanging at his right ear.
A cochlear implant.
So that was it.
Ethan Mercer couldn't hear.
Was that why Serena Holloway had bailed so fast?
"Now that you know why your sister ran," Ethan said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a cold, self-mocking smile, "you still want to marry me?"
He’d only been back in the country for a short while, and word still hadn’t fully spread that he’d lost hearing in both ears in an accident fourteen years ago.
“I’ll marry you.” Clara Whitfield hid the hesitation in her eyes.
“Why?” Ethan Mercer’s brows, smooth a second ago, drew together. The joking look on his face vanished.
Clara took a deep breath and spoke with the crisp force of someone reading the evening news.
“My parents told me this engagement only lasts until the development project is over. After that, the Mercer family will pay a large settlement, and all of it will go to me. Mr. Mercer, I want money.”
The benefits the Mercer family could get from this marriage were way more than just cash. Clara wasn’t greedy. She didn’t want the extra upside. She only wanted what should be hers.
That way, her father’s medical bills could finally be covered.
Ethan let out a low chuckle. “You’ve got quite an appetite.”
He’d seen plenty of women who loved money, but one bold enough to say it to his face this openly? Clara was the first.
“If this is a deal, then I should inspect what I’m getting first.”
Clara froze. The color drained from her face, and her shoulders started trembling without control.
Did this marriage really have to start in bed?
For the first time, she felt a flicker of regret. She hadn’t even been able to finish a kiss with the ex-boyfriend she’d dated for four years.
How was she supposed to sleep with a man she’d known for less than an hour?
The pressure crushed down on her, so heavy she could barely breathe. Everything in front of her blurred. Her legs turned weak, and she started falling toward the floor.
Then suddenly, a pair of warm, strong hands caught her around the waist and pulled her into his arms.
To her shock, the suffocating feeling slowly faded.
Clara found it hard to believe.
She’d always had this condition. She couldn’t stand intimate contact with any man. If she forced herself, she would feel like she was choking.
So why was Ethan Mercer’s touch actually easing that suffocating panic?
Her body was pressed against his warm chest, close enough that his heartbeat seemed to thud right beside her ear. Ethan’s hand moved across the bare skin exposed by her dress. Just when Clara thought he was about to keep going, those hands suddenly pulled away.
"How long has this been going on?" Ethan Mercer asked.
Clara Whitfield dodged his gaze and answered in a low voice, "I... I don't know either..."
The doctor had already told her this wasn't a physical issue. It was psychological, and the only fix was therapy.
Ethan let out a short laugh, like he found the whole thing almost ridiculous. "So the Holloway family shoved you over here to marry a disabled man like me. Wow. For them, that's a sure-win deal."
Clara quietly clenched the fabric of her wedding dress, fingers tightening until the satin wrinkled. Her heart felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand, squeezing the air right out of her chest.
Was Ethan trying to return her now?
Then what was supposed to happen to her poor father?
Forget the medical bills. If this marriage fell through, the Holloway family would never let her see her father again for the rest of her life.
