The Billionaire’s Blind Wife

Chapter 2

Matias

She was so infuriating.I escorted Juniper Kensington into the glass domed conservatory, away from the prying eyes of the guests and press. The moonlight filtered through the glass, illuminating the gold thread of her dress. She didn’t walk like a blind person; she walked like a queen who owned the floor, her white and black cane sweeping in a precise, rhythmic arc before her. "You can let go of my arm now, Mr. Stone," she said as soon as the heavy doors shut behind us. "Unless you're enjoying the proximity. I am quite attractive, so I wouldn't blame you for wanting to be close." I released her immediately, stepping back and crossing my arms. "You have an incredibly high opinion of yourself, Miss Kensington ."

"Well you can’t blame me cause if i don't, who will? My future husband?" She turned toward a massive fern, reached out with uncanny accuracy, and lightly touched a leaf. "Let's lay down the ground rules, shall we? Because I know exactly what this is. You think I'm a tragic little rich girl who needs a big, strong billionaire to hold her hand. I think you're a stuck up workaholic who probably schedules his bathroom breaks in Outlook." I stared at her, dumbfounded. My board of directors trembled when I looked at them for even a second. My competitors spent millions trying to anticipate my moves. And here was this... this girl, wearing a dress that cost more than a mid sized sedan, casually dismantling my character."I don't schedule my bathroom breaks," I said, my voice dangerously low. "I'm efficient, not a f*****g robot."

"That's exactly what a robot would say," she retorted, turning her face toward me. Her eyes were a stunning, clear amber, completely beautiful, yet they didn't quite focus on my face. Instead, they rested somewhere near my left ear. It was disorienting. "Do you ever laugh, Matias? Can I call you Matias? I'm going to call you Matias. 'Mr. Stone' makes you sound like your father, and frankly, that man sounds like he hasn't digested a carb since 1994."A sudden, involuntary bark of laughter escaped my throat before I could stop it. I choked it back down, clearing my throat and resuming my coldest demeanor. "We are here to discuss a marriage of convenience. Not my father's diet."

"Oh, come on, you laughed! I heard it," she cheered, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at me. "The ice giant has a c***k in his glacier! Victory is mine."

"Miss Kensington"

"Juniper. Or June. If you call me Miss Kensington again, I’m going to accidentally trip you with my cane, and I promise you, I have excellent aim." She stepped closer to me, the scent of jasmine and vanilla washing over me. "Look, let's be freaking real. We're getting married. Our fathers are forcing it, the market demands it, and quite honestly, I like my trust fund exactly where it is. So, what's the arrangement? You stay out of my hair, I stay out of yours?" "That was my initial plan," I admitted, looking down at her. She was shorter than me, her head barely reaching my chest, but she filled the room with her sheer, unfiltered energy. "I expect absolute discretion. My life is under a microscope. I don't need scandal."

"Great. No scandals. I'll keep my underground drag racing to the minimum," she said solemnly.

"Are you ever serious?"

"Rarely. It gives you wrinkles," she said, stepping past me toward the exit. "Oh, by the way, I'm a singer. I have rehearsal three times a week, and I practice at home. Loudly. Usually opera, sometimes angsty power ballads when I'm feeling dramatic. I hope your penthouse has soundproofing." I closed my eyes, rubbing the bridge of my nose as a headache began to form. "It doesn't."

"Well," she chuckled, her cane clicking rhythmically against the marble floor as she walked away. "You better buy some earplugs, darling . Because I hit the high notes beautifully."

Juniper

I could hear his heavy, irritated breathing behind me, and it was the most entertaining thing that had ever happened to me all year. Everyone else treated me like I was some sort of fragile porcelain doll. They spoke in hushed, overly sympathetic tones, walked on eggshells around me, and treated my blindness like a tragedy. Matias Stone didn't. He was annoyed by me. He was frustrated by me. He treated me like an actual, living, breathing obstacle in his path.It was utterly refreshing."Wait," his voice called out, firm and authoritative. I heard his swift footsteps closing the distance between us, stopping just a foot away. "We haven't finished establishing the marriage plans."

"My schedule is open, Matias. I just have to slot in 'Get married to an arrogant billionaire' between my Tuesday hair appointment and my Thursday manicure," I said, turning my head slightly to the right, trying to catch the exact direction of his heat. "When do you want to do the deed?"

"Next month. A small ceremony, strictly press controlled. Then you move into the penthouse."

"A month? Wow, moving fast. Are you secretly madly in love with me already Matias? I understand, it happens quickly." "It's practical," he flatly denied, though I noticed his tone lacked the icy edge it had when we first met. He sounded... exhausted. "The fiscal year ends soon. It makes sense to finalize the merger before the end of it."

"Ah, romance. Nothing says 'I love you' quite like fiscal reports," I sighed, dramatically placing a hand over my heart. "Very well, my dear future husband. I shall prepare my gown. But I have one final condition." "Which is?" "You have to take me out for coffee. Tomorrow. And not some fancy, pretentious place where they pour foam art. A real, gritty coffee shop. I want to see if you can survive a normal environment without your assistant holding your whittle hand." There was a long silence. I could hear his watch ticking. "Fine," Julian finally muttered, sounding entirely defeated. "Tomorrow morning. Eight o'clock. Don't be late."

"Oh, I'm always late, Julian," I laughed, turning back toward the gala doors. "It builds anticipation. See you tomorrow, partner." As I walked back out into the crowd, the smirk never left my face. This arranged marriage was supposed to be a death sentence for my independence. But looking at the chessboard now? I had a feeling I was going to have a lot of fun making the ice king lose his absolute mind.