Chapter 1To get revenge for my stepsister, my brother rigged the husband lottery at my engagement party—made sure I'd pull the "cripple."
The whole ballroom went crazy. People laughing. Gasping. Pointing.
I just stood there. Face burning. Couldn't move.
My brother grabbed my shoulder, voice all fake-worried:
"Don't blame me, okay? You shoved Bailey into that pool last time. Made her look bad. So yeah, I messed with the draw. Thought it'd cheer her up."
"She's just a kid, you know? Real sweet. Stop being such a bitch to her."
Then he leaned in closer, dropped his voice like he was doing me this huge favor:
"Relax, it's just for show. You're Dad's golden girl—the senator's daughter. No way we'd actually make you marry some old cripple."
Old cripple.
I looked at the man in the wheelchair. Dark suit. Cold eyes.
That "old cripple"? He's the guy even the President stands up for.
My brother just handed me the best card in the deck.
Thanks for the upgrade, bro.
---
His words hit me like a hammer.
I couldn't move. Felt like someone nailed my feet to the floor, blood turning to ice in my veins.
People around me started whispering, louder and louder.
My brother Camden cleared his throat real loud: "Rhiannon's hand slipped. That doesn't count. We're redoing this."
Then he looked straight at Wyatt Kane.
Wyatt.
The guy I grew up with. The one I was dying to pull today.
I looked up before I could stop myself.
He was leaning against this pillar in his dress blues—navy jacket stretched tight across his shoulders, ribbons lined up on his chest. That cover pulled low over his eyes.
Damn, he looked good.
Our eyes met. Maybe a second.
Then his face just froze over.
He stood up straight and goes, loud enough everyone could hear:
"Lottery's supposed to be fair. Can't just redo it 'cause you don't like what you got."
"What, senator's daughter gets a do-over now?"
I feel like I'm gonna throw up.
I'm squeezing my dress so tight my hands are shaking.
People jump in:
"He's right! You can't just redo the whole thing!"
"Wait, isn't Senator Harper the one always talking about honor and promises? So what, he's backing out?"
Camden's face goes red as hell. Jabbing his finger at Wyatt:
"Are you SERIOUS right now?! You two grew up together! You straight-up TOLD her you'd marry her someday!"
"What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Some asshole in the back actually starts laughing:
"Dude, come on. Wyatt's got a new girl."
"Yeah, someone saw him yesterday at Tiffany's with the senator's other daughter. Bought her like three bags of jewelry."
"I heard his family had to drag his ass here today. He didn't even wanna show up."
Oh.
So that's how it is.
I dropped my eyes, forced the tears back, and took a breath.
Then walked straight up and grabbed the mic.
My voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the room:
"Who said it doesn't count?"
"I pulled this ticket. That's how it works. This wedding? I'm doing it."
Camden whipped around: "Rhiannon, are you outta your mind?!"
"You're the senator's daughter! You can't actually marry some old cripple!"
I turned to look at him. My eyes were burning.
He used to protect me. Used to stand between me and anything that could hurt me.
Now? Just 'cause Bailey said, "She pushed me in the pool," he threw me under the bus in front of everyone at my own engagement party.
I smile. But it's not a real smile.
"Camden. This is what you wanted, right?"
"I'm marrying an old man. Bailey gets what she wants. You happy now?"
Camden froze. His eyebrows pulled together. "You're still mad at Bailey? YOU started this! What she did today was—"
I didn't even let him finish. Just turned around and walked down the stairs.
The crowd split like water, making a path.
I could feel their eyes on me—curious, pitying. Felt like needles.
When I passed Wyatt, he stopped me.
His voice had that annoying "I know better" tone:
"Rhiannon. You don't gotta marry some guy like that just to piss me off."
He stepped closer, softened his voice like he actually cared:
"We grew up together. You're like a sister to me... I'll help you find someone good later. Someone who actually fits."
I turned back. Smiled like I was looking at trash.
"A sister?"
Wyatt's face went pale. Guilt flashed in his eyes.
I locked eyes with him, and my voice came out ice-cold:
"Wyatt. You could've just told me you're done with me. I would've been fine with that. At least that's honest."
His face went white. His mouth opened. Nothing came out. Then he just looked away.
I'm done talking.
Just walked right past him toward the guy in the wheelchair over in the corner.
Chapter 2
Dead silence.
Camden was leaning way over that second-floor railing like he was about to fall:
"Rhiannon! What the HELL are you doing?! Stop being such a brat!"
Wyatt stood frozen, jaw locked, looking like he wanted to punch something.
Everyone was staring at me.
I leaned down. Looked right at the man in the wheelchair—half his face covered by a silver mask.
His hands were all messed up—scars everywhere. A thin blanket covered his legs.
"Will you marry me?"
The man's throat moved. His visible eye lit up like fire.
His voice was steady when he answered:
"You're sure?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Then I'll marry you."
Camden started coming down those stairs fast, but Wyatt grabbed him.
"Don't. You go over there, she wins."
"What're you talking about?"
Wyatt laughed, but it wasn't a real laugh. He was watching me the whole time:
"She's just throwing a tantrum. No way she'd actually marry a cripple..."
I could hear them talking behind me.
Didn't turn around.
Just stuck my hand out to the guy in the wheelchair.
His hand felt rough. And warm. He grabbed mine and didn't let go.
Camden, Wyatt, and I grew up together on the military base. Inseparable.
Until three years ago.
I went to visit Wyatt on the border. Got kidnapped. Lost contact with everyone.
My parents were wrecked. The house went silent. No laughter. No warmth.
Then Bailey showed up.
She was some distant cousin on my mom's side. Looked kinda like me—same eyes, same smile.
After her parents died in a car crash, my parents took her in.
Bailey was bubbly, sweet-talked everyone. Within days, she had the whole house wrapped around her finger.
The house came alive again. Because of her.
Eventually, it felt like everyone forgot I even existed.
Six months ago, I got out of Myanmar. Barely made it. Took me forever to get back home.
I thought I'd get a warm welcome.
Instead, they acted like I was some stranger. Didn't want Bailey to feel weird about me being back.
The night I came back, I overheard my mom comforting Bailey:
"Honey, you're always gonna be our favorite. That's not changing."
"Your sister's been through some stuff. She's not the same anymore. She's harder now. Not soft and sweet like you."
I just stood there in the hallway.
Still holding this little charm my mom gave me before everything happened.
Chapter 3
News spread fast: Senator's daughter marrying a crippled old man.
When I got home, my parents and brother were sitting in the living room, talking.
Soon as Camden stopped talking, my dad slammed his hand down:
"This is nuts! She's making us all look like complete idiots!"
My mom was messing with some jewelry on the table, wouldn't even look up:
"Don't yell at her when she gets back. You'll just make it worse."
"She's doing this because Camden embarrassed her, that's all. She doesn't know this guy's name. Doesn't know where he lives. Nothing. You think she's really gonna marry him and never talk to us again?"
Bailey was sitting there crying:
"Mom... this is my fault. Camden was just trying to help me, and now Rhiannon's doing this."
My mom grabbed a tissue, handed it over:
"Honey, no. Don't do that to yourself. Your sister's been back for months, and we've been walking on eggshells around her the whole time. You've been so good about it."
"You made one joke. That's it. It's nothing."
My dad nodded:
"Bailey, don't feel bad. Your sister's just throwing a fit. She's not actually gonna ruin her life marrying some loser like that."
My mom picked up a jade bracelet, put it on Bailey's wrist:
"Here, sweetie, take whatever you want. Before your sister comes back and tries to grab it all..."
She stopped.
Saw me standing in the doorway.
The bracelet dropped.
Everyone just froze.
Before, I would've lost it. Started screaming. Demanded they explain themselves.
Asked my mom why she treated me like a thief. Asked my dad and brother why they only cared about Bailey.
But I was done.
And honestly? I didn't expect shit from them anymore.
Under their stares, I just turned around and went upstairs.
Three days later, I met the guy at a quiet café in Georgetown.
Rain was tapping on the windows. I was stirring my latte, totally zoned out, until I heard wheelchair wheels stop right at my table.
I looked up. And froze.
That night at the party, he'd been sitting in the dark. I didn't get a good look.
Now, in the daylight, the half of his face not covered by the mask was sharp, good-looking—strong jaw, intense eyes.
"Miss Harper. Don't recognize me?"
His voice had this smile in it. Smooth as hell.
Today he had on a crisp white shirt, perfectly pressed. The silver mask caught the light. His eyes were sharp. Amber.
I stared, caught off guard.
He looked right back at me.
I cleared my throat, trying to sound normal:
"What's your name?"
"Cole Ashford."
He rolled up to the table like it was nothing, poured himself some water. Simple move, but he did it with this... confidence. Like he owned the place.
I pushed down whatever I was feeling. Pulled a bank card from my bag and slid it across:
"Two weeks from now, you show up at the Harper house. This should cover it."
Cole looked at the card. Didn't touch it. Looked at me instead:
"Miss Harper. You sure you wanna marry a guy like me? A... cripple?"
My hand tightened. I lifted my chin:
"What, scared the senator's family's gonna crush you?"
He laughed, quiet. Pushed the card back, gentle but firm.
"What's that mean?" I frowned.
"I don't take a woman's money."
He looked right at me, voice flat, no arguing:
"Wait for me. Two weeks. I'll come get you. And I'll do it right."
I froze.
Thought about everything back home—the coldness, the bullshit. My eyes started burning.
I took a breath. My voice came out steady: "If you can... please hurry."
Cole's hand stopped. His throat moved.
When he spoke again, his voice was lower. Serious: "I will."
