Flash Marriage To My Fake Disabled Husband

I spent five years in a federal prison. The day I was released, my ex-fiancé's new lover threw a hundred-dollar bill into an icy puddle.

"Wash the prison stench off before you crawl back to the gutters."

But her mockery was the least of my problems. My adoptive family immediately cut off my dying mother's life support.

They gave me a brutal ultimatum: forfeit my inheritance and marry a stranger within three days, or they would pull the plug at midnight.

Desperate to pay the hospital bills, I accepted a dark web contract marriage with a bankrupt, paralyzed man.

I moved into his rat-infested Brooklyn apartment. I pawned my only antique necklace to buy him warm clothes, cooked his meals, and even took a job as a maid to pay off his mounting debts.

I thought we were just two broken people trying to survive at rock bottom.

But I started noticing terrifying inconsistencies.

Why did his scent exactly match the suffocating, powerful stranger who pinned me to a bed in a pitch-black hotel room just days ago?

And why did my new employer's fortified Hamptons estate have military-grade thermal cameras hidden in the trees?

I thought I was carefully hiding my past as a trained killer to protect a helpless cripple.

I didn't know my "bankrupt" husband was actually the billionaire owner of that estate, sitting in his control room, watching my every move on the security cameras.