My Husband Sold My Body on the Dark Web While I Was Faking Blind

Among Aldermere's hidden mafia elite, there was an unwritten rule. To climb the ladder of power, you had to sacrifice the dignity of someone closest to you as proof of loyalty. The man who had made that rule was my husband, Arthur Blackwood. For years, he had kept me sealed away so completely that everyone knew Arthur had a beloved blind wife. But no one remembered that I was the only surviving member of Don Victor Vayne's bloodline, the old Don who had ruled the Blackwater River for 30 years. I was Evelyn Vayne. Three years ago, during a trip shortly after our wedding, our car spun out on the street. I threw myself over Arthur to protect him, took a severe blow to the head, and woke up blind and without my memories. Today, I fell down the wine cellar stairs. The blood clot that had been pressing inside my skull for three years finally shifted, and my sight returned along with all the memories that had been buried. The lock clicked. Arthur's leather shoes approached from the hall, followed by the crisp sound of high heels. I wiped the cold look from my eyes and put the empty, unfocused expression of a blind woman back on my face. The two of them lowered their teasing laughter the moment they saw me. "Keep your voice down. She's in the living room." The woman speaking was Sarah Hayes, Arthur's executive assistant. Now I knew what else she was. She was the secret mistress he had hidden for years. The scent of cologne mixed with faint tobacco drifted closer. Arthur bent down, his voice carrying the practiced gentleness he had perfected over the past three years. "Evelyn, sweetheart, were you scared here alone?" His lips brushed my forehead, and nausea surged in my stomach. I hunched my shoulders slightly and let just the right amount of fear enter my voice. "Arthur... did you bring someone home?" "It's Sarah. She brought the Westhaven Docks accounts and an authorization form for you to sign." Arthur gave a light laugh and sat down. Sarah sat beside him, pressed close to his body. The scent of rose and musk drifted over, and a buried memory came rushing back. For the past three years, the same perfume had lingered in the bedroom and the study. Every time we were intimate, Arthur would turn on a thunderous symphony so loudly that it shook the room. He liked to tear my silk nightgown, press me onto the marble table, then down onto the wool rug. Arthur had called it our private romance. In the darkness, I couldn't see anything around me. I could only let him use one new method after another to test the limits of my body and my dignity. Each time the bass thundered through the speakers, he would push further into my helpless surrender. There had been rough hands, damp kisses, and bruises scattered across my skin. Blind and trusting, I had clung to his shoulders in the dark and surrendered to him completely. Now I finally understood. The roaring music had never been for passion. It had been there to cover the click of a camera in the corner, where someone had been filming every defenseless moment of me. "Evelyn, doesn't it get boring living in the dark your whole life?" Sarah leaned close to my ear, pretending to care. Her long fingernails deliberately scraped across my arm. I pretended to be startled and hid against Arthur. He laughed under his breath, wrapped an arm around me, and patted my back as if to soothe me. In his eyes, I saw the thrill of a man who believed he controlled everything. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sarah raise her phone, snap a photo of me clinging to him so pitifully, and hand it to him. Arthur's finger moved across the screen with practiced ease. First, he posted an affectionate update on Twitter. Arthur Blackwood: [Taking my wife to an offshore gala tonight.] Then he switched to a dark web forum, uploaded the photo, and typed the next post. Arthur Blackwood: [If this hits 100,000 likes, I'll let the crew have some fun with this blind rose.] I lowered my eyes to hide the murderous intent rising inside me. Arthur had crawled up from the bottom of the Eastgate Docks. As a teenager, he had smuggled bootleg liquor for others and lived like a rat in the gutter. It was my father who took him in and trained him. Before my father died, he entrusted me to Arthur from his deathbed. Arthur had kissed a cross and sworn that he would protect me with his life. Now he believed the old Don was dead, and I was blind and amnesiac. He believed the power of the Vayne family was already in his hands. He didn't know that weakness had never run in mafia blood. My father had prepared a backup plan for me long ago, a hardened strike team made up of elite hackers and former mercenaries. They were led by Lucas Moretti, the man my father had trusted most. They had lain dormant for three years, waiting for one command from me.