The Billionaire's Blind Spot

I ripped the pearl earring right off her lobe. A bead of blood instantly welled up. This was my husband's latest little pet.

Just seconds ago, she was stubbornly calling me "Miss Cressida." She covered her bleeding ear and screamed, "He doesn't even touch you!

I'm the woman sleeping in his bed every single night!" My husband, Pierce, appeared at that exact moment, his jaw tight. Her eyes instantly went red, playing the victim. "Mr.

Pierce, please don't be mad. Miss Cressida probably didn't mean it." Pierce kicked her out of his way, walking straight over to grip my hand in a dominating hold.

He ignored the blood on the floor, staring only at my fingertips as he asked, "Darling, is it worth hurting your own hands over trash like this?" The girl's tears spilled over, her face a mask of absolute disbelief.

Chapter 1 Sloane was dragged away by Pierce's secretary.

She looked like she had a million things to say, clearly unable to comprehend how the man who had been so gentle with her yesterday could turn into this overnight.

Pierce’s devotion to me wasn't an act.

He found a faint, barely visible red mark on my finger and kissed it over and over. "Darling, a woman like that isn't worth you getting your hands dirty." Disapproval shadowed his dark eyes.

I watched him, my expression perfectly neutral. His reaction didn't surprise me in the slightest. We grew up together.

He was never a docile man, yet he gave me nothing but endless patience and care. In our oldmoney circles, rotting, hollow marriages were the norm, but he had begged to marry me.

When we tied the knot, my best friend Lorelei was green with envy. After all, when people reach a certain echelon of power, basic morality becomes a joke.

Pierce’s heart was truly mine. Lorelei always said that in these elite families, men treated loyalty like a disease.

When wealth inflated to a certain point, expecting a man to stay faithful was a fantasy. For most arranged marriages, maintaining a pictureperfect facade was already a miracle.

But he wasn't a hundred percent mine. A man in his position, without a flock of women throwing themselves at him, would be considered abnormal.

The occasional little pets Pierce kept on the side meant absolutely nothing in Lorelei's eyes. It was just too common. When filth became the standard, purity became the anomaly.

Pierce cooked dinner. The billionaire in his bespoke shirt cut my steak for me. This posture of willing submission had once immensely satisfied my vanity as a family heiress.

Other women envied me. They envied that I held the lion's share of Pierce's love and his absolute indulgence.

I only had to frown, and Pierce would make whatever annoyed me disappear from the face of the earth. I lowered my eyes, slowly chewing the perfectly cut meat he set before me.

His phone lit up with continuous notifications across the table. I instinctively reached out. Thinking I wanted a sip from his wine glass, he thoughtfully pushed it toward me.

When he realized I was reaching for his phone, he just chuckled, picked up a linen napkin to wipe his hands, and handed the device over without a second thought. "You rarely check up on me, wife." The amusement in his eyes was completely genuine.

Chapter 2 Pierce never really bothered hiding his little side pieces from me. Probably because no one in our circle played the game better than him.

He treated me, his wife, with absolute respect, always putting me first. It was the standard set by my own parents, anyway.

They each had their own playgrounds outside the mansion, and I knew of at least half a dozen illegitimate siblings running around.

My mother, having failed to produce a male heir, handpicked one of the more tolerable bastards to inherit the family empire.

He played his part well—showing my mother deference and acting the protective older brother to me. In these oldmoney dynasties, fidelity was the punchline of a bad joke.

No matter how polished the veneer, the foundation was always rotten to the core.

I unlocked my phone and found that Sloane's social media accounts had been wiped clean off the internet. A cold realization settled in.

You don't offend a syndicate heiress and walk away. Pierce had already ensured she evaporated from high society. I kept scrolling. Talia.

She had been clinging to Pierce’s periphery for a while now. I knew her type well—docile, submissive, shrinking like a frightened mouse the second I walked into a room.

Her posture couldn't be any lower. Pierce rewarded her obedience with lucrative resources. Just a few days ago, our paths crossed at a highprofile jewelry gala.

I was attending as Mrs. Pierce, with my husband seated firmly at my right side. Talia deliberately flaunted the new diamond necklace resting on her collarbone.

I merely swept a dismissive glance over it.

Without a word, Pierce whipped out his pen, wrote a sevenfigure check on the spot, and had the brand’s most expensive centerpiece fastened around my neck.

Talia offered a soft, breathless thank you. She knew her place. She didn't linger, nor did she dare rub her status in my face.

Later that night, sensing a microscopic shift in my mood, Pierce leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. "Don't like her?

I'll replace her immediately." The devotion in his eyes was sickeningly real. If I disapproved, he would discard her like trash.

I curled the corners of my lips into a smile. "Pierce, aren't you overthinking it?" While other women tore each other apart for a single glance from him, I was the only one who could directly command the man controlling the empire's lifeblood.

Under the dim lights of the gala, Pierce patted my hand, his tone dropping into something thick and possessive. "Darling, I often think about how far we've come together." I didn't answer.

I just stared out into the glittering skyline. Pierce didn't sleep in my bed that night. He claimed there was an emergency at the firm.

I smoothed out the lapels of his custom suit, watching him walk out the door. Not long after, Lorelei's name flashed on my screen. "Hey, I think I just spotted your Pierce.

He's hanging out with my bastard of a husband. Rumor has it they ordered quite a few girls, but don't worry—your Pierce isn't that wild.

He usually sticks to oneonone." In the pitchblack bedroom, I flicked on the bedside lamp. "And how many male models did you order for yourself?" Lorelei let out a sharp laugh over the line. "I invited you before, but you're a freak.

You hate this stuff. You don't get the thrill." "Cressida, you need to open your eyes. It’s way more fun when couples play the same game.

If only one of you is playing the loyal spouse, you're just going to choke on it eventually." I stayed silent.

Her voice dripped through the receiver. "Cressida, I know what you want.

But you have to realize, once a man hits a certain tax bracket, women throw themselves at him in swarms." "It's an ocean of asskissing and flattery. Keeping your hands clean?

It's impossible." "My hands aren't clean," I murmured. Lorelei paused, her interest suddenly piqued. "Wait, you're keeping a boy toy? Who?

Spill the details." I opened my mouth to reply, but the heavy click of the front door unlocking echoed through the penthouse.

I curled my lips into a smile and abruptly ended the call. Chapter 3 I stood at the turn of the stairs, looking toward the entryway.

Nolan, wearing a rainsoaked black hoodie, exuded a dangerous yet captivating brokenness. He familiarly flicked on the lights, toed off his sneakers, and walked inside.

The boy's features softened. Seeing me, he offered a shy smile and signed a quick greeting.

I first met Nolan on a torrential rainy day, right after I found out Pierce was keeping someone else on the side.

I wore a drenched haute couture trench coat, walking barefoot down an empty stretch of highway. My limitededition sports car had broken down on the shoulder.

Rain mixed with my tears, dripping off my chin. When you love someone with every fiber of your being, possession turns into a physical need.

Hearing about the betrayal sent toxic, acidic jealousy burning through my veins, incinerating whatever good temper I usually possessed. But I had seen this play out a million times.

My friends, relatives, my own parents—they were all spectacular cautionary tales. Whenever the topic of infidelity came up, they brushed it off like dust on their shoulders.

For the longest time, I felt like a freak.

Even Lorelei, who understood me better than anyone, looked at my hollow eyes with complete incomprehension. "Cressida, Pierce's syndicate is valued at three hundred billion dollars, and he’s the apex predator at the top of that food chain.

With that kind of status, expecting him not to have a few women orbiting him is just delusional." Everyone told me to let it go.

After all, Pierce's only flaw was a lack of absolute fidelity, and in our world, that was barely a footnote. But I swallowed the bile and kept my mouth shut.

I had seen what fighting it did to my mother.

I remembered the shattering of antique vases against marble floors, the way the hysteria twisted my gentle mother into something sick and unrecognizable.

Eventually, she started seeking her own comfort in other beds. It started as revenge, but it quickly mutated into an addiction.

I remembered the heavy, sated look in her eyes when she told me that if you couldn't fight the current, you just had to let it drown you.

Nolan appeared in front of me, holding an umbrella. He was tall, his knuckles white against the handle, and when he smiled, a dimple pressed into his cheek.

I tilted my head back and told him to get the hell out of my face. He didn't seem to hear me. He just tried to press the umbrella into my shivering hands.

I took all the venom burning a hole in my chest and spat it at this complete stranger, hurling the most vicious insults I could summon.

But Nolan just watched me, his face perfectly serene. His eyes were wide and endlessly patient.

After a long beat, he looked down, typed something into his phone, and turned the screen toward me: [Sorry, my hearing aids are out for repair today.

I can't hear what you're saying.] He curved his eyes into a soft crescent shape. The rest of my venom choked me. A hot flush of shame crept up my neck.

I was screaming like a banshee at this harmless boy. The next time we crossed paths was in a lecture hall at an Ivy League campus.

I was the invited billionaire alumni, lecturing on market fluctuations and corporate dominance. During the ribboncutting ceremony, I spotted him.

He was standing next to me as a toptier scholarship student for the press photos.

When my assistant handed me the glossy prints later, the boy's docile, quiet expression caught my eye again.

Driven by an impulse I didn't care to dissect, I ordered my assistant to send him a pair of topoftheline hearing aids.

I was zoning out in the back of my Maybach when Nolan, slinging a backpack over his shoulder, tapped on the tinted glass.

My assistant scowled, ready to bark at him, but I raised a finger to silence her.

The boy offered a polite smile, holding out the sleek box containing the expensive hearing aids. "Excuse me, I believe this belongs to you." He looked at me with total tranquility.

The realization hit me: he had zero memory of the pathetic, soaked woman screaming on the highway. Chapter 4 After that day, I started showing up around Nolan all the time.

At first, I did not even have a plan. It was just rare to find someone so untainted breathing the same air as me.

Or maybe when your bank account hits ten digits, life just gets agonizingly boring, and you start looking for a new toy to play with.

Around that time, Pierce found his second little pet. She was a fiery, sunshineandrainbows type of girl who dared to love and hate out loud.

He was clearly riding the high of that fresh thrill, spending so much time in her bed that I barely saw him at the penthouse.

He even slipped up and mentioned her in front of me a few times.

I dug my nails into my palms to cage my temper, silently cutting my dinner and staring blankly at the wallsized flat screen.

Pierce would stroke my hair and murmur, "But darling, the path we have walked together, nothing else comes close to that." Of course I understood what he meant, and I knew he meant every word.

We were forged in the same fire. I never doubted his feelings for me. We came from the same elite bloodlines, our spines built from the same ruthless pride.

Years ago, on an empty private estate, I had kicked off my custom stilettos and spun wildly under the moonlight.

He had held my shoes with endless patience, his eyes completely consumed by me. At our billiondollar wedding, he promised he would love me forever.

But he never promised he would love only me. Nolan was rigid, a boy completely bound by rules. Before I even realized what was happening, I caught him falling for me.

Every time I spoke to him, the tips of his ears burned a violent red.

I let out a soft laugh, walked right up to him with a glass of red wine in my hand, and looked down at him. "You want to go drag racing with me?" Cherry blossoms drifted over the Ivy League campus, students scattering across the shaded walkways in groups of twos and threes.

He and I walked side by side for a long time. A frat party was raging nearby, the heavy metal music absolutely deafening.

That day, bathed in the fading sunset, the golden light danced across the sharp lines of his jaw, while the chaotic, heavy bass pounded in our ears.

Nolan brushed his knuckles against my hand. As if terrified the blasting speakers would overwhelm me, he reached out and covered my ears. His fingertips were searing hot.

Right at that exact second, the boy parted his lips and said something. I asked him what he said, but he just clamped his mouth shut.

Later, leaning back in the leather seats of my chauffeured car as it sped toward the private estate, I pressed two fingers to my temple and suddenly smirked.

Honestly, shortly after meeting Nolan, I paid top dollar for an instructor to teach me sign language and lipreading.

If my money had not been wasted, the words he mouthed were, "I am in love with you." The boy's devotion was raw and naked, which only made me feel like pure scum.

He did not even know I had a husband. A guy like him, as clean and bright as the moon, could never comprehend the sick, unspoken games oldmoney families played.

For a long time, knowing my chronic insomnia, Nolan would catch a ride to my mansion just to read aloud to me until I fell asleep. We never crossed the physical line.

Sometimes, driven by a twisted sense of selfdestruction, I purposely left Pierce's things untouched around the house.

Yet, ironically, Pierce's footprint in this massive penthouse was practically nonexistent.

He was too busy getting his rocks off elsewhere, while I played the perfectly placid wife on the surface, my heart dead to him underneath. Just like today.

Nolan sat by my side, reading some fairy tale in his low voice, exactly like he always did. Chapter 5 I was raised by a parade of nannies.

My parents loved me, sure, but it was a distant, clinical kind of love. At my elite international school, kids started comparing trust funds by the time they were eight.

My hyperaccelerated childhood meant I completely skipped the fairy tale phase. I blinked at Nolan. "So, the Huntsman wanted to kill Snow White, but let her go at the last second.

Does she forgive him?" He answered a new random question from me every single day.

He didn't even pause to think. "She does." "Why?" I fired back. "If I were her, I'd never forgive him.

Anyone who tried to put a knife in my heart deserves to rot in hell forever." "But if someone realizes their mistake and turns back, don't they deserve forgiveness?" he asked, sitting exactly two feet away.

I don't know what flashed through my mind in that exact second. Since the day I was born, money was never an object.

I was surrounded by sycophants and oldmoney circles where people played god, crossing every moral line imaginable for a cheap thrill.

I kept my hands clean, but I had watched the rot for so long that I was entirely numb to it. I jerked forward, tilted my head, and pressed my lips right against his cheek.

He stiffened violently. He locked onto me with eyes so predatory they looked ready to devour me whole, but when he opened his mouth, he still stuttered.

His pale skin flushed a violent crimson.

He blinked his wide, watery eyes at me. "Cres… Cressida…" A strange heat expanded in my chest. "Nolan, do you like me?" The boy's neck turned completely red.

I didn't expect Pierce to come back. I was curled up under the reading lamp in an oversized cashmere sweater