"O... okay."
Kyler's gaze was too intense, too possessive. I couldn't meet his eyes, so I looked away and helped him up.
But—
We'd fallen pretty far. The wheelchair was still a few steps away.
Considering Kyler couldn't stand with his bad legs, I helped him sit back down on the floor.
"Just wait here a sec, I'll get the wheelchair."
Kyler said nothing, but his eyes darkened a little.
I bet.
He was probably regretting not buying a smarter trophy wife, even if it was just a trophy.
Trying to make up for it, I sprinted to get the wheelchair and pushed it over.
When I reached out to help him again, Kyler didn't move.
What, throwing a fit?
I looked down at him, only to see him sigh, his voice rough and hoarse.
"You're standing on my foot."
"…Sorry."
Desperate to make amends, I used all my strength to bend down and lift him into the wheelchair.
But Kyler didn't seem happy about it.
His lips were pressed tight, the tips of his ears red. He spoke through gritted teeth, "Lila, I told you to help me, not carry me."
So hard to please.
I mumbled an acknowledgment and pushed the wheelchair to the bed, curious to see how he'd get up.
But then came his voice, a little lower, "Turn around."
I obeyed without question.
But…
There was a small mirror on the table across the way. In its reflection, I clearly saw—
Kyler, sitting in the wheelchair, placed both hands on the bed and pushed…
Then a dull thud.
The man had fallen off.
The atmosphere was pure awkwardness.
I stood with my back to him, stuck between turning around or staying put.
Hesitating, his voice suddenly came from behind—irritated, almost flustered.
"What are you standing there for?"
"Oh."
I spun around quickly.
Kyler sat on the floor, legs looking limp, lips pressed tight, ears bright red.
Probably the two falls in a row had bruised his pride.
To help him up, I slung his arm over my shoulder, trying to comfort him:
"Mr. Kyler, don't take it to heart. If I were in a wheelchair, I'd probably can't even wipe my own butt after using the bathroom, let alone..."
Halfway through, his hand on my shoulder tightened.
"Shut up."
"Okay."
I helped Kyler into bed, then got his order:
"From now on, when you're with me in public, just smile. Don't speak."
"Okay..."
He pays, I obey. If he doesn't want me talking, I'll drink water through my nose if I have to.
On our wedding night, I planned to sleep on a pallet on the floor.
But Kyler wouldn't allow it.
He told me to sleep next to him, under the same quilt.
Actually, I was fine with that, but I had to put on a shy act. Just as I was blushing and hesitating, saying "Is that okay?", he suddenly handed me a bank card.
I paused for a second, "Another hundred bucks?"
"Two hundred thousand."
"Deal, honey."
I snatched the card and put it away with a smile.
It was a peaceful night, just a bit cold.
That damned guy rolled up all the quilt with his hands in the middle of the night. Later, I was so cold that I had to snuggle up to him, barely covering half of myself with the quilt.
I only vaguely remember.
He was extremely warm, like a walking stove.
When I woke up the next day, Kyler was already in the wheelchair.
I had no idea how he got there.
The wheelchair was right beside the bed, and Kyler was holding a book, reading it intently with his head down.
The warm sunlight outside the window cast a golden edge on his eyebrows and eyes.
He looked absolutely stunning.
I was staring at him, lost in thought, when Kyler suddenly turned his head to look at me.
"Go downstairs for breakfast."
I replied, noticing that Kyler had a dark circle under his eyes.
Did he not sleep well last night?
He clearly slept like a log while clutching the quilt.
Kyler put down the book and rolled his wheelchair out of the room. I quickly got out of bed to wash up. When I accidentally glanced at the book Kyler had been reading, I couldn't help but freeze.
"Monkey King: True or False"
?
So it turns out that noble young masters are so full of childlike innocence.
After breakfast, Kyler headed out.
Before leaving, he warn me no matter where I went today, I had to be dressed up and waiting at home by 7 PM sharp. He was taking me to the family dinner tonight.
I nodded obediently.
A Kyler family dinner? Couldn't mess that up.
Besides, when Kyler and I got married yesterday, all sorts of celebrities and tycoons showed up to congratulate us, but not a single Kyler family member attended.
Though Kyler didn't seem to care one bit.
...
I didn't have a job, and staying cooped up in that empty villa was boring, so I hailed a taxi to go wander around.
Kyler's garage was full of dusty luxury cars, but—
No driver left for me, and I didn't even have a license.
With his bank card in hand, I took a taxi to the city's fanciest mall.
The place was packed, but most people were like me—window-shopping only.
After all, stuff here cost hundreds of thousands. Totally out of regular people's league.
Wandered around empty-handed.
Then my stomach started cramping. Remembering I had tissues in my bag, I turned toward the public restrooms.
But—
Must be the weekend, the mall was swarming. The ladies' room had a long line, while the men's was empty.
Stomach hurt too bad to wait. I snuck into the men's room.
Locked the stall, squatted...
Just finished zipping up and flushed, when someone knocked twice on the partition. A deep male voice came from next door.
"Sorry, can I borrow a couple tissues?"
Low, magnetic, slightly hoarse.
Incredibly sexy.
I fumbled in my bag for the remaining tissues, handed them over without looking.
But seconds later, they got pushed back.
"Uh... is this appropriate?"
"Got tissues?"
Confused, I glanced down.
Oh no.
What got returned was the sanitary pad I kept in my bag.
Face burning, I quickly pulled out actual tissues and slid them through the gap. "Sorry, grabbed the wrong thing."
He waited a few seconds before taking them, voice lifting slightly. "A girl?"
...That's when I remembered I was in the men's room.
Too embarrassed to answer, I hightailed it out of there.
7 PM.
By the time Kyler got home, I'd already changed into my gown, done up my makeup, and was sitting on the couch looking polished.
The second that wheelchair-bound figure appeared, I rushed over, lifting my skirt like I was showing off a prize.
"Pretty?"
Admittedly, I zone out sometimes and say stupid things, but when it comes to looking good, I rarely fail.
From high-end galas to club nights, I almost never miss the mark with my outfits.
Kyler's gaze lingered on me for a solid six or seven seconds before finally drifting away, voice flat: "Decent."
Decent? Please, he was clearly avoiding eye contact.
Wouldn't call out my own sugar daddy, though.
So I volunteered to play his assistant, wheeling him out the door.
Out to the car we went.
Kyler's villa wasn't too far from the Kyler estate—about a 20-minute drive.
He said nothing the whole way, but I noticed his expression getting darker by the minute.
Guess the rumors were true—Kyler and his family really weren't on good terms.
—
This was the Kyler residence.
I stopped at the entrance, staring.
Not just a mansion. An honest-to-goodness estate.
Couldn't even see the end of it.
After a few seconds, I turned back to get Kyler's wheelchair.
With Kyler as our pass, we sailed right in. Just as I was about to get lost, a butler led us to a house and opened the door.
I wheeled Kyler inside.
Huge ballroom, only a few dozen people.
The second we entered, practically every eye turned our way.
I smiled, confidently guiding Kyler toward the center.
At the main hall stood a couple—a man in a sharp suit, broad-shouldered,
a woman in a red dress leaning against him, curves on full display.
Clearly the hosts.
Sure enough,
Kyler paused two seconds, voice low: "Ethan."
My guess was right—that's Ethan, the family heir.
Ethan nodded, glance sliding from Kyler to me.
His eyes were intense—unlike Kyler's aloofness or casualness, there was something possessive, sharp.
Intimidating to meet.
Fighting down the jitters, I followed Kyler's lead: "Ethan."
At my voice, though, Ethan raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise in those deep eyes.
Next second,
his gaze moved from my face to my wrist.
Confused, I looked down too.
I was wearing a silver bracelet—had it forever, and it matched my outfit, so I'd kept it on.
Still puzzled, I looked up to find Ethan had already looked away.
That stare must've been my imagination.
He was too imposing to linger around, though. Exchanged a few cool words with Kyler, then headed off.
Kyler clearly hated small talk. He had me wheel him to a corner, not speaking, just sitting there,
eyes casually scanning the room.
No words.
After a while, bored, I asked to use the restroom.
Kyler nodded, silent.
In the hallway,
seeing no one around, I pulled a cigarette from my tiny purse.
Said bathroom break, but really needed a smoke.
Just lit it when footsteps sounded behind me.
Fumbling to put it out, a familiar voice spoke up:
"Keep it. Share one with me."
I hid the cigarette behind my back, turning to see—
Ethan.
He stopped two steps away, palm up, waiting.
Hesitant, I said: "It's cheap stuff. Kinda strong."
"Perfect," Ethan smirked. "Just what I need."
Couldn't say no now. I dug out another cigarette and handed it over, plus a lighter.
Ethan lit up, took a drag, then turned to me: "Didn't recognize me?"
"Huh?"
Confused, I mumbled: "Of course I did. Kyler's brother."
"Not that,"
Ethan took another puff, profile sharp in the light.
"Thanks for the tissues this afternoon."
"...You?"
Too shocked to process, when a wheelchair appeared around the corner.
Kyler rolled over, eyes lifting, casual as ever:
"What about him?"