THE BILLIONAIRE'S FAKE BLIND WIFE

Chapter Seven: Don't Expose Me

Three days passed before Elena saw Vivian again.

It happened at Blackwood Manor, of all places, Vivian showing up unannounced in the middle of the afternoon, dressed like she had somewhere important to be afterward and this was just a stop along the way. Helen let her in only because refusing a Carter at the door would have caused more of a scene than allowing her inside.

Elena found her standing in the main hall, looking around at the house like she was already measuring it for herself.

"You actually did it," Vivian said, when she noticed Elena coming down the stairs. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Good afternoon to you too."

"How is married life," Vivian asked, a little too sweetly. "Taking care of your poor blind husband. Feeding him. Reading things to him. Sounds thrilling."

Elena kept her expression flat. "It's manageable."

"I bet." Vivian wandered further into the hall, trailing her fingers along a table like she was checking for dust. "You know, everyone at the wedding felt so sorry for you. Marrying a man who can't even see his own bride. Some people actually cried."

"Did you come here for a reason," Elena asked, "or just to enjoy yourself?"

Vivian's smile sharpened. "Actually, yes. My mother wants you at dinner this weekend. Family dinner. Since you're apparently one of us now."

"I'll let Alexander know."

"Oh, he's invited too," Vivian said. "Assuming somebody can wheel him there."

Elena didn't answer that. She'd learned quickly that giving Vivian a reaction only fed whatever she was trying to provoke, and she wasn't in the mood to make this easier for her.

Vivian's eyes drifted toward the staircase, toward the hallway that led deeper into the house. "Where is he, anyway? Your husband."

"Working."

Vivian raised an eyebrow. "Working. Right. I forgot, he still pretends to run that company from a wheelchair."

"He does run it."

"Sure he does." Vivian's tone made it clear she didn't believe that for a second, and Elena reminded herself, again, that this was exactly the reaction the family wanted people to have. Nobody was supposed to believe Alexander Blackwood was capable of anything anymore. That was the entire point.

"I should get back," Elena said. "I'll tell him about dinner."

Vivian didn't move right away. Instead she studied Elena for a long moment, something calculating behind her eyes that hadn't been there a second ago.

"You know," she said slowly, "it's strange. I expected you to look miserable by now. Being stuck out here with him. But you don't."

Elena kept her face carefully blank. "Should I be miserable?"

"I don't know," Vivian said. "That's what's strange."

She left not long after that, and Elena stood in the empty hall for a while after the front door closed, replaying the conversation, unsettled by how closely Vivian had been watching her. Vivian didn't know the truth. Elena was almost certain of that. But she was clearly paying more attention than Elena had given her credit for, and that felt like its own kind of danger.

She found Alexander later that evening in the study, where he seemed to spend most of his time when nobody but Elena or Helen was around.

"Vivian came by today," Elena said.

He didn't look up from the papers in front of him. "I heard the car."

"You didn't come out."

"I had no reason to." He finally glanced up. "What did she want?"

"There's a family dinner this weekend. Her mother's request. You're invited too, apparently, in whatever way she thinks that's possible for you."

Something flickered across Alexander's face, quick and unreadable. "Then we'll go."

"There's something else," Elena said, sitting down across from him. "She noticed something was off. Not the truth, not exactly. But she said I don't look miserable enough for someone stuck out here taking care of you."

Alexander set his pen down slowly. "And what did you tell her?"

"Nothing. I didn't have an answer that made sense to give her."

He was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Vivian isn't stupid. Careless, maybe. Spoiled, definitely. But not stupid. If she starts paying too much attention to either of us, that's a problem."

"So what do we do?"

"We give her something else to notice," Alexander said. "Something that fits what she expects to see."

Elena frowned. "Like what?"

"At dinner this weekend," he said, "you play the exhausted wife. Overwhelmed. A little resentful, even. Something that matches the pity everyone already feels for you. Give her a reason to stop looking any closer."

"You want me to lie in front of your family."

"I want you to survive being married to me," Alexander said. "Those are the same thing right now."

Elena studied him for a moment, weighing the request, weighing everything it meant that he trusted her enough to ask instead of simply expecting it.

"Fine," she said finally. "But you owe me answers. Real ones. Not whatever you think I've earned."

Something almost like respect passed over his face again, the same look she'd caught once before.

"After the dinner," he said. "I'll tell you more."

"You said that already."

"I mean it this time."

Elena wasn't sure yet whether she believed him. But she nodded anyway, because for now, it was the only deal on the table, and she was starting to understand that in this house, every single thing came with a price.