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His Broken Bride Is A Hidden Genius

His Broken Bride Is A Hidden Genius

Adeline's stepmother had secretly drugged her for years, turning a child genius into a drooling, mentally disabled laughingstock just so her stepsister could steal her life. But when her greedy father sold her off to Griffin Herring—a violent, untouchable billionaire psychopath—to save his company, things took a deadly turn. Before the wedding, Griffin attacked her in a dark alley, nearly snapping her neck before stealing her grandfather's silver necklace. That necklace held a micro-drive with her family's deepest secrets, and without it, she had nothing. Back at the estate, her situation only worsened. Her stepsister Damaris paraded around in the Herring family's diamond engagement gifts, trying to force-feed Adeline wet dog food on an Instagram live stream. When Adeline's calculated "clumsiness" ruined the video, her furious father locked her in a damp, rusted basement. "Give her to the psycho," her stepmother hissed through the door. "Let him lock her away forever." Listening from the shadows, Adeline's fists clenched until her palms bled. Her supposed mental fog wasn't a tragedy—it was a calculated assassination of her mind. They had destroyed her childhood and were now throwing her to a monster just to keep the billions. The dull, empty look in Adeline's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a razor-sharp, chilling clarity. She pulled a thin surgical needle from her messy bun and picked the heavy iron padlock in ten seconds. It was time to break into the billionaire's penthouse, take back her necklace, and tear them all apart.
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Chapter 3

Adeline walked out of the alley, the neon lights of the Manhattan streets reflecting in the puddles. She needed to find a subway station. Two massive men in cheap black suits stepped out from the shadows of a closed bodega. They blocked the sidewalk. The first goon pulled out his phone. He looked at the screen, then looked at Adeline's dirt-streaked face. "It's her," he sneered, his thumb swiping across the screen before pocketing the device. He cracked his knuckles, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "Looks even worse in person. Let's get this over with before the rain ruins my suit." Adeline's heart went cold. Katrina. Her stepmother hadn't even waited for her to arrive in the Hamptons. She had sent killers to stop the marriage before it even started. The second goon laughed, reaching out a meaty hand to grab Adeline's wet hair. "Come here, sweetheart. Let's make this quick." Adeline ducked. Her wrist flicked. Two incredibly thin, surgical-grade needles slid from the seams of her sleeves into her fingers. She let out a fake, terrified squeak and stumbled forward, crashing directly into the first goon's chest. In the split second their bodies collided, Adeline drove the needle precisely into the vagus nerve cluster at the base of his neck. The man didn't even gasp. His eyes rolled back into his head. His massive body instantly lost all motor function and collapsed onto the wet concrete like a sack of dead weight. The second goon froze, his eyes wide with shock. He thought his partner had just suffered a massive heart attack. Adeline dropped to the ground. She sat in the puddle, pointing at the fallen man, and began to wail like a frightened five-year-old. "Shut up!" The second goon yelled, his nerves fraying. He raised his hand to slap her across the face. Adeline rolled away clumsily. As she scrambled, she brought her heel down hard on the arch of his foot. The man grunted in pain and bent over. It was all the opening she needed. The second needle flashed in the dim light. She drove it straight into the motor nerve node in his lower lumbar. The goon's legs gave out instantly. He crashed to his knees, paralyzed from the waist down, his eyes wide with absolute horror as he stared at the crying girl. Adeline stopped crying. She stood up, brushing the dirt off her jeans. Her eyes were completely devoid of emotion as she stepped over the two paralyzed bodies and kept walking toward the subway. Miles away, inside the speeding Cadillac SUV, Griffin leaned back against the leather seats. He took slow, deep breaths, forcing the manic energy back down into the dark corners of his mind. Winston offered him a glass of ice water and a small white pill. Griffin smacked the pill away. It bounced off the window. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver necklace. He rubbed his thumb over the heavy pendant, his mind racing. "Sir," Winston said cautiously. "The Martinez family is pressing for details regarding the marriage arrangement." Griffin let out a dark, humorless laugh. A monster like him, a man who couldn't even stand the touch of a woman without turning into a violent animal, didn't need a real wife. An image flashed in his mind. A girl covered in mud, chewing on garbage, laughing at a knife. Griffin opened his eyes. A twisted, brilliant plan formed in his head. "Tell Martinez I agree to the marriage," Griffin said, his voice cold and absolute. "But I want the eldest daughter. The one they just brought back from the country." Winston's eyes widened in shock. "Sir? But intelligence says she is... cognitively impaired. A defect. It will ruin the Herring family's reputation." "Exactly," Griffin snapped. "A wife with no cognitive function is the perfect cover. She won't ask questions. She won't talk. She won't touch me." Winston swallowed hard. He knew better than to argue when Griffin used that tone. He pulled out his tablet and began drafting the prenuptial agreement. An hour later, Adeline sat in the back of a late-night bus heading toward the Hamptons. She leaned her head against the cold glass window. Her reflection stared back at her. She wasn't going to run from this arranged marriage. She was going to use her "stupid" identity to tear the Martinez family apart from the inside out.

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