Chapter 1
After marrying the mafia heir as a proxy bride, I was publicly poisoned mute at the family gala.
My half-sister and my mafia heir husband watch over my hospital bed daily, shedding fake tears and praying for me.
Enduring the agonizing pain, I pass the time on my phone by taking dark web bounties on our internal family forum.
Until an anonymous buying request suddenly popped up.
[Got any high-purity vocal cord repair serum in stock? I messed up bad, and I wanna buy it to atone.]
I casually typed back: [What'd you do?]
The reply came quickly: [I screwed over my mute, clueless proxy-bride sister...]
[The heir is actually obsessed with spoiling her, and he's gonna transfer seven overseas casinos to her. I'm losing my damn mind with jealousy.]
[At last month's gala, I dragged him into the lounge closet for a quickie, and poisoned my sister's wine while I was at it, ruining her voice for good.]
[Now he's got a perfect excuse to let me run the casinos, but seeing her pathetic state makes me feel a little guilty.]
The account name for the deposit transfer flashed on screen.
It belonged to none other than my dear sister Joanna Sinclair, the one weeping her eyes out in my room every single day.
*****
"Miss, please just listen to reason and eat something. The young master Carl and Miss Joanna Sinclair have been outside all night," Martha Doyle's voice echoed through the heavy door.
I stared dead at Joanna's name on the tablet screen.
My arms couldn't help but tremble slightly.
I raised my right hand and slammed my fist hard against the glass on the nightstand.
With a loud crash, the sound of shattering glass rang sharply through the hollow room.
Jagged shards dug deep into my palm.
Blood seeped through my fingers onto the pristine sheets, blooming into a shocking crimson stain.
The voices outside fell dead silent for a split second.
Then came Joanna's loud, theatrical wailing.
"Sister! Please stop torturing yourself like this!
"Everything is all my fault! If I hadn't left the ballroom that night, you would've never drunk that wine!
"Hit me, curse me, do whatever you wanna do, just please don't hurt yourself!"
Her voice carried a perfectly tailored tremor, sounding utterly breathless from sobbing.
Through the crack in the door, I could easily picture her leaning weakly into Carl Bennett's chest with flushed eyes.
I ignored the flawless performance outside.
With a blood-stained finger, I kept scrolling through the screen.
In the forum logs, Joanna was still using her anonymous handle to excitedly share the details of the poisoning night.
[You guys have no idea how thrilling it was in that lounge closet.]
[The ballroom was right outside, and my sister was literally up on stage giving a speech for the family.]
[Carl kept his hand over my mouth, begging me to make some noise.]
[He didn't even undo his tie before tearing my dress open in pure desperation.]
[Once we finished, he personally brought up that poisoned glass of red wine and handed it to my sister himself.]
I stared at the words.
A thick, metallic taste surged from the depths of my throat.
The very husband who once blocked a blade barehanded for me, swearing I'd never suffer a single grievance, had personally fed me the poison that destroyed my voice.
Martha Doyle, the maid who had pushed so hard for me to be the proxy bride, was still outside playing the caring soul.
"Miss, Miss Joanna Sinclair is about to faint from crying. Even if you don't pity yourself, at least show some pity for the young master."
I pulled out my backup phone and tapped on Martha's profile.
My fingers flew across the keyboard.
[The night of the gala, you clearly told me you saw Carl heading to the wine cellar. Why'd he come out from the lounge closet?]
The message delivered successfully.
The top of the screen indicated she was typing.
A full five minutes passed.
Martha replied with a string of ellipses.
Right after, a flood of text popped up.
[Miss, you're mute now. In a mafia syndicate like this, you should be glad you're even drawing breath.]
[Carl has been sick of your lifeless, silent attitude for a long time.]
[Miss Joanna Sinclair is young, beautiful, and knows how to please a man. It's only natural for him to move on.]
[Just accept your fate and stop digging into the poisoning.]
[Anger the young master, and you won't even keep this VIP room. You'll end up rotting in the slums with the dregs.]
Staring at the words on the screen, my lips twitched.
I let out a silent laugh.
Accept my fate?
What a complete joke.
I thought back to the night of the gala.
Carl Bennett had knelt on the marble floor in his bespoke suit.
He had meticulously smoothed out the tiny creases along the hem of my gown.
When he looked up, his eyes brimmed with absolute devotion.
"After tonight, you're gonna be the most respected woman on Raven Isle. Everything I own is yours."
Back then, I actually believed I was the sole exception in this cold-blooded family.
Now I see the truth.
That very night, he had just crawled out of my sweet sister's closet after a wild session.
Even the faint scent of cedar cologne on him was nothing but a cover for the stench of their cheap affair!
I snatched the paring knife from the table and slid out of bed.
Pressing the blade against the expensive silk wallpaper, I dragged it down with all my might!
With a sharp tear, the wallpaper split open, leaving a brutal two-foot gash.
The rip looked just as hideous as the scar burned into my throat by the poison.
The footsteps outside suddenly grew frantic.
Joanna's wailing grew even louder, laced with a trace of unsuppressible excitement.
"Carl, kick the door down! My sister must be doing something crazy inside!
"If anything happens to her, I'm gonna be crushed!"
The doorknob rattled violently.
I watched the door coldly as it was about to burst open.
Tossing the bloody knife into the trash, I grabbed a wet wipe and cleaned the blood from my fingers, one by one.