Came Back as an Heiress After My Ex-Fiancé Made Me Blind novel Chapter 3

"Don't be ridiculous." Eugene's interruption carried a whisper of unease beneath its authority.

A slight tremor in his usually steady voice betrayed him. "Victoria's blindness is temporary."

Claire adjusted her performance seamlessly, her head settling against my shoulder with practiced innocence.

"Oh, silly me," she cooed. "Maybe tomorrow Victoria's sight will return, and she'll be the most radiant bride Eastbrook has ever seen. I'm just so thrilled for you, dear sister."

That's how she'd always fooled me - with her perfect performance of wide-eyed innocence.

After the assistant delivered my wedding gown, Claire orchestrated our solitude with expert precision.

The air in the room changed, growing heavy with malice.

"Victoria, this dress you designed - it's exquisite. It's stunning." A pause, followed by the sound of fabric rustled between her fingers. "Though it's rather large on me..."

The sound of ripping silk shattered the hospital room's sterile quiet.

"A blind bride in couture?" She laughed softly. "The hospital gown suits your new... status better."

Tears splashed, and suddenly my eyes erupted in white-hot agony.

I tried to scream but no sound emerged. My trembling hands reached up instinctively to wipe away, but Claire's grip locked around my wrists.

Her lips brushed my ear, warm breath carrying words cold as ice. "Poor, sweet Victoria. Did you really think it was the accident that stole your sight?"

"One casual comment from me, and Eugene harvested your corneas for my benefit. The irony? I didn't even need them. Even a stray wouldn't want them."

Her grip tightened painfully. If you're truly as clever as everyone claims, you'll vanish quietly. After all..."

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

He knew exactly how to hurt me. For years, I'd dreamed of walking down the aisle to him, of becoming Mrs. Thorne.

Now he wielded that dream like a dagger, twisting it deeper into my heart.

Just as he expected, I lowered my head in false contrition, though the caustic tears still burning my eyes made every movement agony.

My voice quavered - not from remorse, but from pain and carefully contained rage.

"I'm sorry, Claire."

Eugene's footsteps retreated toward the door. "Someone will collect you at eight tomorrow morning."

What he didn't know was that tomorrow's wedding wouldn't be a celebration - it would be my escape.

The day I would finally disappear from his life.