The Blind Billionaire's Trap

When Hayes showed up on my doorstep, soaked to the bone and blind in one eye, it finally clicked.

I suddenly understood why Vance had insisted on moving his sick little childhood friend, Faye, into our house. The chokehold of a first love was terrifyingly real.

A sharp ache twisted in my chest. I pulled Hayes inside immediately. Years had passed since I last saw him.

He was a shell of his former self—frail, hollowed out, and cloaked in shadows. The lightest brush against his skin sent violent, uncontrollable tremors wracking through his frame.

I poured every ounce of my energy into him. I coaxed him. I nursed him. My entire existence revolved around pulling him back from the edge.

I was so completely consumed by Hayes that I stopped caring about Faye. I stopped screaming at Vance.

The exhausting cycle of jealousy and shattered plates simply vanished from my mind. But that was exactly what pushed Vance over the edge.

He cornered me, the blood vessels in his eyes violently red.

His chest heaved as his knuckles turned white against the doorframe. "Blair." His voice cracked, raw and unhinged. "I am your husband.

Why the hell are you always choosing him?" Chapter 1 Rain battered the pavement the night I saw Hayes again.

I leaned against the porch pillars of our house, staring out into the pitchblack sky. An empty, hollow ache gnawed at my ribs.

Faye had casually mentioned she’d never seen the ocean. So, Vance completely forgot our wedding anniversary, dropped every single business meeting, and flew her out to the Maldives.

This wasn't the first time. Ever since Faye came back from overseas, everything about her took priority. We ate at restaurants she liked. We went to places she wanted to see.

I kept telling myself that Faye had a severe heart condition. She was fragile. I needed to be the bigger person and step aside. That worked until Vance's birthday.

I slipped into the sheer red dress he loved so much and straddled his lap. His breath hitched instantly.

He gripped my hips, his eyes darkening as he flipped me onto my back, pinning me against the couch. Then, that specific ringtone cut through the heavy air. I knew that sound.

It was the custom tone Vance had set exclusively for Faye. I prayed he would ignore it. I wanted him to stay lost in me. But reality had a funny way of slapping me in the face.

The phone rang for exactly three seconds before the heat in his eyes completely iced over. He answered it, muttered two words, and snatched his jacket off the chair.

He slammed the front door shut behind him. I was left alone, lying halfdressed and humiliated on the cushions. Even then, I tried to lie to myself.

What if it was a real medical emergency? Her heart was literally failing, after all. It took hours of staring at the ceiling to finally talk myself down from the ledge.

Then I unlocked my phone. Faye’s newest Instagram post was sitting right at the top of my feed. The picture showed a lopsided cake with sloppy frosting and crooked letters.

My eyes instantly locked onto the corner of the frame. There, supposedly caught by accident, was a man's hand. And on his ring finger sat the exact match to my wedding band.

It was Vance. My brain scrambled to find an excuse for them, but the caption wiped my mind completely blank. She wrote: [The knight never breaks his oath to protect the princess.

But this time, the princess isn't hurt. She made a little surprise for her knight instead!

Baked it with my own two hands.] [Happy birthday to my most loyal knight~] So there was no emergency. Bile rose in my throat.

My chest caved in, a sharp, phantom blade twisting right between my ribs.

I pulled my knees to my chest, curling into a tight ball on the floor as violent, silent tremors racked my body. My vision blurred with hot tears.

By noon the next day, Vance finally walked through the door. The fight was explosive. And it ended in a complete disaster—Vance moved Faye directly into our guest room.

I fought back, screaming until my throat bled, pointing at the door and telling her to get the hell out of my house. Faye clutched her chest and collapsed on the spot.

An ambulance carted her away. After that, my life became a sickening, endless loop.

It started with shattered plates and screaming matches with Vance, and ended with Faye in a hospital bed. Over and over again.

Now, there was nothing left but a bonedeep exhaustion. I could turn on every single light in this massive house, and it wouldn't chase away the freezing, suffocating isolation.

That was when a prickle on the back of my neck made me look up. I locked eyes with a gaze that felt entirely alien, yet painfully familiar. It was Hayes.

He stood under the flickering halo of a streetlamp just past the driveway. He looked entirely different. The arrogant, untouchable boy I remembered was gone.

His frame was shockingly thin. His hair had grown out, falling in damp, messy strands that completely concealed one of his eyes. He didn't have an umbrella.

The freezing rain plastered his white dress shirt to his skin. He looked like a stray dog pushed to the absolute brink. Suddenly, a violent shiver ripped through him.

He realized I was staring. He spun on his heel, desperate to escape into the dark. But his legs gave out.

He barely managed two steps before his knees buckled, sending him crashing hard onto the wet concrete.

Chapter 2 I threw all my selfpity out the window and sprinted into the pouring rain, grabbing his arms to haul him up. "Hayes?

Are you okay?" The flickering streetlamp finally illuminated his face, and the words caught in my throat. "What happened to your eye?" One of his eyes had turned completely milky grey.

It was clouded over, devoid of any light or focus.

He snapped his head away, hiding his face in the shadows like a kicked dog. "I can't see out of this one," he whispered, his voice trembling violently.

A sharp ache gripped my chest. He was the boy I had chased relentlessly in my youth, the untouchable star of my past. I never imagined he would end up like this.

I supported his weight, dragging him inside the house, and shoved a clean towel into his hands. "Go take a hot shower. You're going to freeze to death." Hayes gave a silent nod.

He kept his eyes glued to the floor as his freezing fingers reached for the buttons of his soaked shirt. I immediately spun around, presenting my back to him. "Get in the shower.

I'll go find you some dry clothes." I hurried into the walkin closet and grabbed a set of Vance's pajamas.

When I returned, Hayes was still standing right outside the bathroom door. His stiff, clumsy fingers were losing a desperate battle against the wet fabric of his shirt.

He caught my confused stare and ducked his head, his cheeks flushing with humiliation. "Since… since I lost my sight, my body doesn't always listen to me.

The doctors called it sensory integration dysfunction…" A violent shiver ripped through him midsentence.

The last trace of color drained from his lips, leaving them a sickly, bruised purple. Every ounce of my logic evaporated.

I dumped the clothes on the counter and closed the distance between us. "It's fine.

Let me do it." Hayes stood perfectly still, watching me with his good eye as I popped the slick buttons free one by one. My knuckles accidentally brushed against his icy skin.

He gasped, his entire body shuddering, and a furious red blush crept up the tips of his ears. His hand suddenly snapped up, gripping my wrist tight. "I… I can do it," he stammered.

The sudden heat of his palm finally snapped me back to reality. A rush of embarrassment hit me. I went to pull my hand back, but a harsh voice shattered the silence. "Blair!

What the hell are you doing?!" I jerked my head around. Vance stood in the doorway, the shoulders of his coat soaked from the rain.

My brows snapped together. "What are you doing here?" "If I didn't come back, were you planning on screwing him in my house?!" Vance's face was twisted in absolute rage.

I just stared at him, utterly disgusted. "Watch your mouth, Vance. Hayes is an old friend. Nothing is going on." "Nothing? I just watched you strip him naked!

You call that nothing?" "Are you out of your mind? I told you—" I braced myself for a screaming match, but Hayes tightened his grip on my hand. "Blair, it's my fault.

Please don't fight with your husband over me." He let go of me and actually bowed his head toward Vance. "Sir, please don't misunderstand her. I'm just sick.

She was only helping me. I just… I just wanted to see Blair one last time today." "Now that I have, I'll leave.

I won't ruin your night." His voice cracked, trembling so hard he could barely form the words. My chest tightened. I reached out and grabbed his hand right back. "Hayes, ignore him.

You are staying here.

I'm going to take care of you." "Are you completely insane, Blair?!" Vance roared, stepping fully into the room. "Who the hell moves another man into their house to 'take care' of him?" The words had barely left his mouth when a soft, breathless voice floated in from the hallway behind him. "Vance?

Are you and Blair fighting over me again?" Chapter 3 The muscles in Vance’s jaw locked. He stood there, completely rendered speechless.

Taking his silence as her cue, Faye stepped out from the shadows of the hallway. Her eyes landed on Hayes, and her footsteps stuttered to a halt.

A beat later, her eyes swam with perfectly timed tears. "This is all my fault, Blair," she whispered, her voice wavering with practiced guilt. "I never should have mentioned wanting to see the ocean.

If I hadn't said anything, Vance wouldn't have abandoned you on your anniversary to take me to the Maldives." She looked down, wringing her hands. "Thank god the storm grounded our flight.

You should have Vance tonight.

I'll… I'll just pack my things and go." Vance closed the distance between them in an instant, gripping her shoulders. "Faye, you aren't going anywhere. This is your home.

You stay exactly as long as you need to." The old me would have blown up.

I would have screamed until my lungs gave out, demanding to know how the hell he thought he could move another woman into a house that belonged to both of us.

Tonight, I just looked at him and smiled. I turned to the man shivering beside me. "Hear that, Hayes? You aren't going anywhere either.

This is your home now; you stay exactly as long as you need to. Ignore what anyone else says." Vance’s head snapped toward me; the veins in his neck bulged. "Anyone else?

Did you just call me anyone else? Need I remind you who your husband is?" I didn't even get the chance to open my mouth.

Faye swayed on her feet, a delicate hand flying to her chest. "Vance," she whimpered, her breath hitching. "My heart… it hurts." That was all it took. The argument ceased to exist.

Vance scooped her up in his arms and sprinted down the hall toward the guest bedroom without a second backward glance.

I exhaled a slow breath, letting the tension bleed out of my shoulders, before gently nudging Hayes toward the bathroom. While the shower ran, I raided the linen closet.

I pulled out Vance’s obnoxiously expensive, imported silk sheets and made up the bed in the second guest room.

Once everything was perfect, I parked myself right outside the bathroom door.

With his vision gone and his motor skills shot, I wasn't about to leave him unsupervised in a slippery stall.

I was leaning against the wall when Vance jogged back out to grab Faye's medication. He stopped in his tracks.

A cruel, mocking smirk twisted his lips. "You know, Blair, you don't have to throw yourself at some random stray just to get a reaction out of me." I opened my mouth to tell him exactly where he could shove his ego, but the bathroom door clicked open.

Vance’s eyes went wide. His voice spiked an octave. "Are you out of your fucking mind?

You put him in my pajamas?!" Hayes flinched at the volume; he stood dripping on the bath mat, his hands nervously gripping the hem of the silk shirt. "Blair, I… I didn't know these were his," he stammered, shrinking back. "I'll take them off right now." I reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him forward. "You're not taking anything off.

Your clothes are soaked. Keep them on." I leveled a deadpan glare at my husband. "Are you seriously throwing a tantrum over a piece of fabric?

Grow up." Vance's chest heaved; his jaw clenched tight enough to snap. "It's not about the clothes! Do you have any concept of respect left?

Need I remind you who the man of this house is?" Right on cue, the guest bedroom door creaked open. "Vance?" Faye's voice drifted out, soft and inquisitive; "Is everything okay?

What's taking so long with my pills?" She stepped into the hallway. She was wearing the exact matching set to Vance's silk pajamas.

Around her wrist hung the diamond tennis bracelet Vance had bought for my twentyfifth birthday. Tucked into her hair was the Miu Miu clip I had ordered just last week.

For the first time in his life, Vance shut his mouth. He shoved the pill bottle into Faye's palm.

Before she could utter another pathetic plea to keep him by her side, he cut her off: "Get some rest.

I have something to handle." He clamped his hand around my bicep and marched me straight into our master bedroom, slamming the door shut behind us.

He paced the floor, his jaw working as if gearing up for a speech. But I didn't care to hear a single word of it. I kicked his shin, shoved past him, and walked out the door.

Chapter 4 I didn't step back into the master bedroom until I was absolutely sure Hayes was settled. Vance had been waiting for a long time.

He sat by the window, halfhidden in a thick cloud of smoke. The glass ashtray in front of him was overflowing with crushed filters. My brows pinched together.

I crossed the room and shoved the window wide open. "Is this all you do now? Smoke yourself to death? For once in your life, take a page out of Hayes's book.

He doesn't touch this garbage." Vance choked on his inhale. A violent fit of coughing wracked his chest before he finally managed to catch his breath. His jaw ticked: "Blair.

Do you have anything else to talk about besides Hayes?" I met his stare deadon. "Nope.

Just like you don't have anything to talk about besides Faye." The mention of her name made the muscles in his face pull tight with immediate annoyance.

He opened his mouth—probably to call me petty again—but his eyes slid past me and landed on the nightstand. Sitting right there in the center was the anniversary cake. Untouched.

Forgotten. The realization hit him like a physical blow. Today was our fiveyear wedding anniversary.

The sharp edges of his voice completely melted away. "Blair, I'm sorry." He stepped closer. "I completely forgot.

I'll make it up to you, I swear." He reached out, his tone dropping an octave. "I've already scheduled Faye's heart surgery. As soon as she recovers, I'll send her away.

Okay?" When Vance turned on the charm, his deep, dark eyes were a trap waiting to drown me. I was half a second away from caving. Then, a soft knock tapped against the door. "Blair?

Are you asleep?" I ignored the immediate, icy plunge in Vance's expression and hurried over to twist the knob. "I'm awake. What's wrong?" Hayes stood in the hallway.

His eyelashes cast long shadows over his cheekbones.

His knuckles were white where he gripped the hem of his shirt, a picture of absolute anxiety. "Blair, I…" He swallowed hard. "Ever since I lost my sight, my anxiety spikes at night.

I'm just… I'm a little scared; I can't sleep." My chest squeezed tight. How could someone be pushed so far down into the dirt?

I reached out, wrapping my hands over his freezing fingers, keeping my voice low and soft. "It's okay. Don't be scared.

I'll sit with you until you fall asleep." I wrapped my arm around him to guide him back down the hall. But Vance snapped.

He lunged forward, blocking our path. "Blair, are you out of your mind? You're going to sleep in another man's room? I am your husband!" Hayes didn't say a word.

The rims of his eyes just flushed a deep, wet red. The last shred of my hesitation vanished.

I stepped right in front of him, physically shielding him from Vance. "Can you stop making everything about your ego?" I shot back. "Look at him, Vance; he's sick.

Would it kill you to show an ounce of basic human decency?" Our raised voices must have carried. Down the hall, a door creaked open.

Faye stood there clutching a plush rabbit to her chest, her wide eyes locked onto Vance. "Vance?" Her breath hitched. "I just had a horrible nightmare.

My chest is so tight I can't breathe… could you come sit with me, just for a little bit?" Silence blanketed the hallway.

Ever since Faye moved in, Vance had spent almost every single night at her bedside. The seconds ticked by before Vance finally cleared his throat. "Faye, we aren't kids anymore.

It's not appropriate for me to stay in your room; if you're scared, just leave the lights on." The color drained completely from Faye's face. Tears pooled instantly in her eyes.

She gave a pathetic, obedient little nod. But I knew her game. It wasn't over. Sure enough, not even two minutes after her door clicked shut, a massive crash shattered the quiet.

Vance didn't even hesitate. He kicked the guest room door open. Faye was collapsed in a heap on the floor, gasping for air. In a blink, Hayes and I ceased to exist in Vance's world.

He scooped Faye into his arms and sprinted out the front door, headed straight for the ER. I didn't spare them a second glance.

I just adjusted my grip on Hayes and led him back to his room. Chapter 5 As he had said, his anxiety was severe.

He jolted awake in a cold sweat multiple times throughout the night, only relaxing back into the pillows after his fingers frantically brushed my arm to confirm I was still there.

I stayed by Hayes's side all night. Down the hall, Vance stayed with Faye.

When Vance finally dragged his exhausted body out of the guest room the next morning, Hayes and I were already gone.

Hayes had mentioned wanting to see the stars, so I used my vacation days and flew him straight to Hawaii. Life moved at a chaotic pace after we returned.

Vance was buried in work and taking care of Faye. I had my own job and was entirely focused on Hayes.

We lived under the same massive roof, yet we managed to avoid crossing paths entirely. After coming home to an empty house for the thirtyseventh time, Vance hit his breaking point.

He hired someone to pull a comprehensive background check on Hayes. The second he flipped open the first page of the dossier, a harsh string of curses left his mouth. "Fuck.

He's three years older than me. How the hell does he have the nerve to call me 'sir'?" Vance flipped through the remaining pages, his jaw locking tighter with every line.

Halfway through the report, he slammed the folder shut on his desk, canceled all his afternoon meetings, and drove straight home. I was at the office.

Faye was at the hospital for a checkup. Hayes was the only one in the house. Vance didn't make a sound as he slipped inside. He quietly pushed open the door to the guest bedroom.

He froze in his tracks. Hayes was standing in front of the vanity mirror. He was calmly sliding a clouded, custommade contact lens over his perfectly healthy eye.

His posture was perfectly straight. His movements were sharp and steady. There wasn't a single trace of the trembling, broken man from the night before.

The veins in Vance's neck bulged. He kicked the door wide open. "You are faking it!" Hayes didn't flinch. He didn't drop the contact.

Instead, he lazily arched an eyebrow at Vance's reflection in the mirror: "I was wondering what that annoying sound was; turns out it's just the dog who can't keep his dick in his pants, barking in my hallway." Vance nearly choked on his own breath.

He gritted his teeth, whipping out his phone and jabbing the record button. "You're dead, Hayes.

Blair despises liars more than anything in this world; once I show her this, she's going to throw you out on the street!" Hayes wasn't rushed.

He meticulously blinked the specialeffects lens into place, letting Vance film the entire process. Once Vance tapped the 'send' button, Hayes turned around.

He rested his chin on his hand, his lips curving into a mocking crescent. "Idiot, AI deepfakes are everywhere now. What's the point of sending a video?

All I have to do is cry and say it's fake.

Who do you think Blair is going to believe: you, or me?" "Me, obviously!" Vance shouted back. "I am her legal husband!" Despite the volume, the slight waver in his voice gave him away.

Hayes's smile widened. He closed the distance between them, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Then let's test it out.

Let's see exactly who she believes." Without another word, Hayes threw a punch straight at Vance's face. Vance wasn't about to just take a hit. He instantly swung back.

But right before the impact, Hayes completely pulled his own punch. He dropped his guard, making zero effort to dodge, and leaned his jaw directly into Vance's oncoming fist. Crack.

Hayes crumpled to the hardwood floor. He immediately curled inward, his entire body wracked with violent, uncontrollable tremors.

Vance stared at his own knuckles, entirely confused.

But looking down at Hayes cowering in the corner, a triumphant, arrogant smirk twisted his lips. "If you know what's good for you, get the hell out of my house!" The words had barely left his mouth when a horrified scream shattered the silence. "Vance!

What the hell are you doing?!" The color instantly drained from Vance's face. He spun around, frantic, his hands raised toward me. "Blair, it's not what it looks like!

He threw the first punch, I was just—" My answer was a vicious, unforgiving slap straight across his face.

Chapter 6 "Vance, you are completely toxic!" I screamed, my voice shaking with raw fury. "You physically assault him, try to throw him out on the street, and then have the sick nerve to play the victim?

Do you have no conscience at all?" Vance’s head snapped to the side. He stood frozen, completely stunned by the force of my slap. It took a long second for the shock to wear off.

His face contorted. A dark, ugly rage twisted his features.

He opened his mouth to shout, but Hayes beat him to the punch. "Blair, please don't blame your husband," Hayes whispered, his voice trembling as he looked up at me. "You two are married; he's just jealous because he loves you.

This is all my fault." "I never should have intruded on your lives. I… I found a new job. As soon as I get my first paycheck, I'll move out." The veins in Vance's forehead throbbed.

His voice cracked, pitching up into pure hysteria. "A job? You are the CEO of a publicly traded—" Before Vance could finish his sentence, Hayes squeezed his eyes shut.

His brow pinched in sheer agony, and his entire body went limp, collapsing completely onto the hardwood floor. Panic seized my throat.

I grabbed Hayes by the shoulders, hauling his dead weight up to get him straight to the emergency room.

I didn't spare Vance a single backward glance. [Vance] I stood alone in the empty bedroom, my knuckles turning white as my hands balled into tight fists.

I forced the explosive rage down my throat, but a sudden, inexplicable panic clawed at the walls of my chest.

The way Blair had just walked out on me… the image burned behind my eyes. It felt sickeningly familiar. Suddenly, my phone rang. That custom melody sliced through the silence.

I didn't even need to look at the screen to know it was Faye. As I reached into my pocket, a memory violently shoved its way to the front of my mind.

It was the day before I took Faye to the Maldives. Blair and Faye had gotten into an argument. I had walked in right as Blair pushed Faye to the ground.

Without thinking, I had slapped Blair across the face. I hadn't used my full strength, but her expression… the absolute agony and raw humiliation shattering her eyes.

It mirrored exactly how I felt standing here right now. But back then, I hadn't cared.

I had scooped Faye up in my arms and walked out the door without giving Blair a single backward glance. The more I thought about it, the harder it became to draw breath.

It felt like a pair of massive, invisible hands was crushing my lungs. I shook my head, desperately forcing the guilt away. Faye wasn't like Hayes.

Hayes was a manipulative liar faking an illness. Faye was actually sick. I had scheduled her for comprehensive inpatient tests days ago, and she was being discharged today.

People could fake a tremble, but hospital lab reports couldn't lie. The logic loosened the suffocating grip on my chest. I hadn't done anything wrong.

Caring for a dying woman was basic human decency. I wasn't an idiot like Blair, getting played by Hayes's pathetic acting.

Convinced I held the moral high ground, I stormed out of the house and drove straight to the hospital.

I was going to grab Faye's official medical reports and shove them right in Blair's face to prove I was entirely justified.

I navigated the sterile white corridors to Faye's private VIP room on autopilot. Through the cracked door, I saw her attending physician standing at the foot of her bed.

The tension bled out of my shoulders.

I took a step forward to push the door open, but the doctor's voice stopped me dead in my tracks. "Faye, when exactly are you going to lock Vance down?" the doctor demanded, crossing his arms. "How many fake medical reports do I have to forge for you?

If this keeps up, I'm going to lose my medical license." My feet were glued to the floor. The blood instantly drained from my face. Faye's voice drifted into the hallway.

It wasn't weak. It wasn't breathless.

It was sharp, clear, and dripping with venom. "Who knows what that bitch Blair is thinking?" Faye scoffed. "After everything Vance has done to her, she still won't file for divorce.

She's a complete doormat!" "But she's been dragging some other guy around lately. They'll probably divorce soon." "Fine," the doctor sighed. "I'll cover for you one last time.

But when you become Mrs. Vance, you better not forget me." The ground dropped out from under me. A sickening wave of nausea violently twisted my stomach.

A deafening ringing exploded in my ears, drowning out the sterile hum of the hospital machinery. I don't remember how my legs carried me out of that building.

The blinding white walls blurred into a suffocating, spinning tunnel. By the time my vision finally snapped back, my hands were whiteknuckling the steering wheel.

I was speeding recklessly down the highway, desperate to find Blair.

Of course, I didn't find her. [Blair] Because I had already packed Hayes into the passenger seat and driven us straight back to my hometown.

Chapter 7 Hayes was three years older than me. When I was a seventh grader, he was a high school sophomore.

When I was a freshman sweating over algebra, he was a senior getting ready to rule the world. Our lives were two parallel lines physically incapable of intersecting.

Just like my massive, painfully obvious crush on him—completely unspoken, destined to die quietly in the dark. It was the ultimate bad timing.

Right when I hit high school, drowning in exams, he was already off to college. I studied until my eyes bled, desperate to get into his university.

But the second I finally graduated, Hayes proved he was just too damn smart. He got accepted into an elite program overseas. His entire family packed up and moved across the world.

I honestly thought I'd never see him again. I merged onto the highway, keeping my eyes on the road. "You can drop the act now," I said to the man slumped in the passenger seat.

Hayes didn't twitch. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, fully committed to playing dead.

I let out a heavy sigh, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. "If you keep this up, I'm pulling over and dumping you at the next rest stop." His eyelids fluttered open.

He let out a defeated breath, shooting me a defensive glare. "How did you know I was faking?" I gave him a deadpan look. "Have you ever met anyone who completely loses consciousness, magically stands up the second someone touches their arm, walks perfectly to a car, buckles their seatbelt, and then resumes being unconscious?

Plus, Vance sent me the video." The instant Vance's name left my mouth, the air in the car shifted. The muscles in Hayes's jaw ticked.

He pressed his lips into a tight, thin line, practically vibrating with the effort to hold something back