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The Mute Heiress: My Ruthless Husband's Prize Novel Cover

The Mute Heiress: My Ruthless Husband's Prize

I woke up in a hospital bed with the sting of antiseptic in my nose and my body feeling like lead. My world had been turned upside down by a crash, but the nightmare was only beginning. Instead of a doctor, I found my Aunt Ursula and a man named Julian standing over me. They weren't there to comfort me; they were calculating my worth. "Poor thing," Ursula cooed, pinning my wrist to the mattress. Julian claimed he was my fiancé, even though I’d spent a year dodging his calls. I tried to scream, but my throat felt like it was filled with broken glass. They were using my silence to paint me as incompetent so they could seize my family’s trust fund. Just as Julian tried to force a ring on my finger, the door slammed open. Hilliard Blackburn, the city’s most ruthless billionaire, walked in and tossed a marriage certificate on the floor. "I am her legal husband," he said. "Now, get out." I was a piece of collateral, traded by my dying grandfather to pay off a debt. To Hilliard, I was just an asset in his portfolio. He didn't know that I was secretly "The Analyst," a hacker who moved millions on the dark web. He didn't know about the missing algorithm that could crash the market, or that my mentor had vanished in a lab fire. The world saw a broken, mute heiress, but I was hiding a secret that could destroy us all. I was pregnant, and my stolen code was already being auctioned to the highest bidder. With Hilliard moving into my house to monitor me, I had to find the truth before my "husband" realized I was his greatest threat.
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Chapter 6

Julian saw the screen. His face turned a mottled purple. He slapped the phone out of Elenor's hand.

It hit the pavement with a crunch.

"You ungrateful mute bitch!" Julian roared. The mic on the camera picked it up. The crowd went silent.

He grabbed her by the front of the scrubs. He shook her. "I'm trying to help you!"

Elenor was thrown backward. Her spine collided with a lamppost. Pain shot through her ribs. She slid down, gasping for air.

Ursula was shouting now. "She's having an episode! Grab her! We need to get her home!"

Julian lunged for her. His fingers dug into her arm, bruising the skin. He was dragging her toward the SUV.

"No," Elenor mouthed. No sound came out.

She looked past the chaos, past the flashing lights, and her gaze locked with Hilliard's in the distant car. There was no plea in her eyes, no request for salvation. Instead, there was a cold, clear message: This circus is a liability. Your investment is being publicly degraded. It was a strategic look, not a desperate one.

He wouldn't help a victim. But he would protect an asset.

Julian opened the car door. He was shoving her inside.

Elenor felt a surge of panic, not for her safety, but for the plan. This was not part of the plan. She closed her eyes, preparing to fight, to bite, to do anything to stop him.

The door of the Rolls Royce opened.

Hilliard stepped out. He didn't rush. He buttoned his jacket. He took a drag of the cigar and exhaled a plume of blue smoke.

The crowd parted for him like the Red Sea. The aura of money was a physical barrier.

He walked up to Julian. He looked at Julian's hand, which was still gripping Elenor's arm.

"Count to three," Hilliard said. His voice was conversational. "If your hand is still on my wife at three, you lose the hand."

Julian blinked. "What?"

"One."

Hilliard took a step closer.

Julian released her as if she were made of fire. He stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Elenor slumped forward, her legs giving out.

She didn't hit the ground.

Hilliard's arm swept around her waist. He caught her, pulling her flush against his chest. The wool of his suit was rough against her cheek. He smelled of tobacco and cold winter air.

He looked down at her. His eyes were hard, but his grip was secure.

"Creating a scene, Mrs. Blackburn?" he murmured, his voice low and mocking near her ear. "This will be expensive."

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