THE BILLIONAIRE'S BLIND BRIDE

The world had been nothing but shadows for three weeks. Cassie Jones lay still on the stiff hospital bed, fingers brushing the bandages over her eyes. Everything was quiet except for the beeping machines… and the storm inside her chest. The doctor’s voice from earlier replayed in her mind like a broken record: “Your sight may return, Miss Jones. But it will take time. A lot of it.” Time she didn’t have. Bills she couldn’t pay. A life she wasn’t sure she could recognize anymore. Cassie swallowed, forcing back the fear climbing her throat. She wasn’t scared of darkness, she was scared of being stuck in it forever. The door creaked open. Soft, slow footsteps entered the room. Not the hurried, tired steps of a nurse. Not the squeaky sneakers of her annoying cousin who kept checking on her. No… these steps were heavy. Controlled. Confident. Like whoever it was owned the ground they walked on. “Miss Jones?” a deep, calm voice asked. Cassie stiffened. “That’s me. And uh… if you’re here to ask me about bills, I swear I’ll I'll cry" she muttered. A soft huff almost a laugh escaped him. “No. I’m not here for that.” “Then who are you?” Cassie asked, trying to imagine his face. “You sound like someone who wears suits just to breathe.” A pause. Then his voice sharpened slightly, amused. “Jason Maxine.” Cassie blinked under her bandages. Jason Maxine. Even she, blind and broke, knew that name. She thought to her self "He must be an impersonator playing pranks because he sees I'm blind" The CEO whose company owned half the city. The man the internet worshipped and feared. The billionaire with a face no paparazzi ever caught clearly always blurred, always turned away. Then she thought again "what if it was him.. I am in an hospital owned by him after all ". “What… what are you doing here?” she whispered. He stepped closer, and she could feel him now warmth, expensive cologne, the quiet tension of someone who wasn’t used to being questioned. “I came,” he said slowly, “to offer you a proposition.” Cassie snorted. “Sir, with all due respect, the only proposition I can accept right now is someone bringing me jollof rice.” He ignored that. “I’ll pay your hospital bills. All of them. I’ll also ensure you receive private care, rehabilitation, and anything else you need.” Her heart skipped. “Why?” she asked cautiously. “People don’t just do that.” “You’re right,” Jason said, voice dipping into something colder. “They don’t.” He moved even closer. Cassie felt the mattress shift slightly as his hand rested somewhere near her arm not touching, but close enough to feel the heat of him. “I need a wife,” he said. Cassie froze. “What did you just say?” “A wife. On paper. For one year.” She opened her mouth. Closed it. Reopened it. “What kind of You walked into a blind girl’s hospital room to propose marriage? Are you insane?” Jason didn’t flinch. “It’s mutually beneficial.” “In what universe?” “You need help,” he said simply. “And I need a bride before the board meeting next month. A suitable one. One who won’t ask questions.” Cassie felt her throat tighten. Her heart was pounding so loud she was sure he could hear it. “So you chose someone who can’t even see you?” she whispered. He didn’t deny it. After a long, terrible silence, his voice softened barely. “I’m not here to hurt you, Miss Jones. I’m offering a contract. One year. Financial security for you and your family.” “And what do you want from me?” she murmured. “Your cooperation,” he replied. “And your signature.” Cassie’s mind raced. This was insane. Unreal. But so was waking up blind. So was being broke. So was losing control of her life in a single night. Her breathing trembled, the weight of her world pressing down on her chest. Jason’s next words were low… almost gentle. “Think of it as survival. For both of us.” Cassie swallowed hard. “Jason Maxine,” she whispered, “are you really asking me to marry you?” “I am.” His certainty shook her more than anything. Cassie’s hands curled on the sheets as she whispered: “…Will I ever get to see your face?” Jason paused and something strange flickered in his voice. “Perhaps,” he said. “But I’m not sure you’ll like what you see.” A chill ran down her spine. “Miss Jones,” he murmured, “will you marry a man you can’t see?”