Addicted To My Secret Genius Wife

Chloe Beaumont sauntered into the living room, the bubble of gum in her mouth snapping with a sharp pop.

The sound echoed in the cavernous space, a deliberate offense against the antique furniture and the heavy silence.

Her faded band t-shirt and ripped jeans were a world away from the suffocating luxury of the Beaumont townhouse.

Her father, Cedric Beaumont, sat enthroned in a wingback chair.

Beside him, her stepsister Olivia, a picture of innocence in a Chanel suit, watched Chloe with undisguised glee dancing in her sky-blue eyes.

"Can't you ever dress respectably?" Cedric's voice was sharp, his gaze raking over Chloe's attire with disgust. "You look like you belong on the street."

Chloe blew another bubble, letting it pop loudly.

"My clothes won't change the content of this conversation, will they?" she shot back, her tone dripping with insolence.

Cedric's patience snapped. "There's been a change to your engagement with the Sharpe family."

He didn't bother to soften the blow.

"Olivia will be marrying Connor Sharpe in your place."

The smirk on Chloe's face froze.

"What did you say?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Olivia reached out, her perfectly manicured hand landing on Chloe's arm. Her touch was cloying, her voice a syrupy imitation of sympathy. "Don't blame Dad, sister. The Sharpes specifically asked for me. There was nothing I could do." The small beauty mark just below her collarbone seemed to mock Chloe with every word.

Chloe snatched her hand away as if she'd been touched by a snake.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, her eyes turning to ice.

Cedric slid a document across the polished mahogany table. "This isn't a discussion. The Beaumont family needs this alliance, and the Sharpes want Olivia."

Chloe's eyes scanned the paper, the words blurring. "So what about me? Am I just the trash you throw away?"

"You still have your use," Cedric said, his voice devoid of any warmth. "The Sharpes have arranged another match for you."

He paused for effect.

"As 'compensation,' you will marry the eldest Sharpe son, Julian Sharpe."

Olivia chimed in, her voice laced with faux pity. "The one who had that car accident a few years ago. The one in the wheelchair. I hear he's become quite strange, sister. You'll have a difficult time."

Julian Sharpe. The former Wall Street prodigy, now a recluse, a cripple, the family's discarded heir.

"You have no choice." Cedric's voice was final. He leaned forward, delivering the final, killing blow. "Sign the agreement. Or as Ethan's legal guardian, I will cut his private ICU funding today and transfer him to a state facility to rot."

Ethan.

The name was a key turning in a lock deep inside her, stilling her rage and flooding her with ice-cold dread. Her little brother. Her only weakness. As long as Cedric held that legal guardianship, no amount of her own money or connections could stop him from signing Ethan's death warrant.

She lifted her head. Her gray-blue eyes were dry, all the tears burned away by a cold, simmering hatred.

She snatched the pen from the table.

Her signature was a violent slash of ink on the crisp paper.

Chloe threw the document back onto the table. The slap of paper against wood made Olivia jump.

She stood up, her spine ramrod straight. She looked at the two people who had just sold her life.

"From this day on," she said, her voice dropping to a skin-crawling quiet, "I have no father." She didn't waste another word, turning on her heel and walking out.

In the living room, Olivia snuggled against Cedric, picking up the agreement with a triumphant smile. "Now Connor is all mine, Daddy."

Cedric patted her hand, his eyes cold and calculating. "Keep Connor happy. The future of the Beaumonts in New York depends on you."

Chloe burst through the front door. The cool evening air of New York did nothing to quell the fire of betrayal burning in her gut.

She pulled out her phone. The screen lit up with the smiling face of a young boy. Her maternal half-brother, Ethan White. After their mother died, Cedric had dumped them in Havenwood Creek for years, only hauling Chloe back to New York when Olivia needed a sacrificial lamb.

"Ethan, I'm sorry," she murmured. "But I promise you. I will make them pay for this. Every last cent, with interest."

A black Lincoln town car glided to a silent stop in front of her.

The window rolled down, revealing the impassive face of a driver in a crisp uniform.

"Miss Beaumont," he said, his tone flat. "Please get in. We're going directly to City Hall."

Chloe took a deep, shuddering breath, shoving all her emotions into a locked box deep inside. She pulled the door open and slid in.

The car moved smoothly into the flow of traffic. Chloe watched the city lights blur past the window, knowing her life was being forced down a dark, unknown track.

She looked at the back of the driver's head.

"This Julian Sharpe," she asked, her voice cold. "Is he waiting for me at City Hall?"

The driver's eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. His expression was unreadable. "Yes, Miss. Mr. Sharpe is already there."