Capítulo 5: Scalding Tea and a Close Call

Vivian’s summons cut through the morning like a blade. “Emergency board meeting.

Your husband’s presence is required. Do not be late.” The venom in her smile told me she had already sprung the trap.

I found Kai in the hall, already in the wheelchair, his jaw set. “She’s planning something,” I murmured.

“Then we’ll bleed a little,” he replied. “But she won’t draw first blood.” We entered the boardroom.

Ten directors sat around the mahogany table, faces carved from stone. Vivian stood at the head, a fingerprint scanner gleaming next to her, its green light blinking like a predator’s eye.

“For security purposes,” she announced with practiced silkiness, “we are instituting a mandatory fingerprint check for all board members. Since Kian’s records are on file from his initial tenure, we’ll begin with him.” The room went silent.

Kai’s knuckles whitened on the chair arm. If they scanned his fingers, everything would end—the company, my father’s protection, maybe our lives.

I inched forward, teacup in my hand, steam curling from the rim. Half a second of perfect, engineered chaos.

As Vivian gestured for him to press his thumb onto the pad, I lurched. My heel caught the carpet’s edge, my body tilted, and the scalding tea flew, drenching Kai’s outstretched hand.

He snarled in genuine pain, the skin reddening instantly. Livid blisters were already rising.

Vivian’s composure cracked. “You useless girl!” “I’m so sorry!

Oh God, your hand!” I snatched a napkin, my voice shaking. “Someone call a doctor!” The board members scrambled.

The meeting was over. I’d bought us time.

Later, in the study, a medic finished bandaging Kai’s fingers. When the door closed, he spun the wheelchair toward me, fury blazing beneath the calm.

“You knew.” I didn’t flinch. “I know who you really are, Kai.

I’ve known since our wedding night.” Silence stretched, taut as wire. Then his uninjured hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me down until our faces were inches apart.

“And you saved me anyway.” “I didn’t do it for you,” I lied, my pulse hammering. “I can’t let her win.” The tension between us was a living thing.

Then the landline on the desk shrieked. I stumbled back and answered.

A nurse’s voice, clipped and urgent: “Mrs. Callan, your father is crashing.

Please come immediately.” The room tilted. I had no breath to speak.

Before I could move, another line chimed—my cell. I answered.

Vivian’s voice coiled through the speaker, cool and triumphant. “Your father’s treatment is in my hands, Elena.

Bring me proof that your husband is not Kian Callan, and I’ll ensure a full recovery. You have three days.” The call died.

Kai watched me, his burned hand cradled against his chest, his gaze dark with dawning dread. I had just burned myself saving a liar, and now the only cure for my father hung on betraying him.

I Married a Disabled Millionaire. On Our Wedding Night, I Found Out He Wasn’t Even the Real Groom.

I Married a Disabled Millionaire. On Our Wedding Night, I Found Out He Wasn’t Even the Real Groom.

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