The moment Riley arrived at the Yates residence, she was escorted straight into a bedroom.
The space was large and filled with light, furnished in an elegant European style. Every detail was precise, refined without being excessive, the kind of quiet luxury that spoke of power rather than display.
And yet—
Something felt wrong.
There were no wedding decorations. No trace of celebration. On her way in, she had not heard laughter or chatter, not a single sound that suggested joy.
Just as Felicia had sneered—
This was not a marriage.
She had simply been moved from one place to another.
Riley did not mind. If anything, she preferred it. No one disturbing her meant she could finally focus on what she wanted to do.
After a long day, she washed up quickly and dropped onto the bed, exhaustion pulling her under almost at once.
Not long after—
The door opened.
Riley snapped upright, her body going rigid in an instant.
Who dares walking into my room without permission?
Then she saw him.
A man in a wheelchair.
Adrian.
"So," he said, his voice cold, edged with quiet fatigue, "you're the hit-and-run girl my grandfather arranged for me?"
Riley blinked.
Short temper.
Clutching her stuffed bunny, she slipped off the bed and padded across the floor barefoot. She circled him once, slow and deliberate, before stopping in front of him, studying him openly.
Come to think of it, Felicia had not truly fled. She had panicked and run home to find Thomas, but she had left our family's contact details behind. She had even called an ambulance and the police.
Riley's eyes narrowed slightly.
When no answer came, Adrian let out a low, humourless laugh.
"How interesting. My grandfather will really send anything my way now—even a hit-and-run bride."
His gaze sharpened, cutting.
"Let me make this clear. This is my room. Strangers aren't allowed in. Now get out."
Riley frowned faintly.
Definitely a bad temper.
Her expression shifted in an instant. Hugging the bunny tighter, she lifted her gaze with soft, pitiful innocence.
"Rye is good girl," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Rye likes the big bed. Rye wants to sleep. Not leaving."
Adrian went still.
Then his eyes locked onto her, sharp and unyielding.
Silence stretched between them.
"You're not the hit-and-run girl," he said at last.
It was not a question.
It was a verdict.
Riley felt her breath hitch. For a fleeting moment, the pressure of his perception pressed down on her, suffocating.
She forced herself to remain calm, lifting her eyes again with the same blank innocence, as though she understood nothing at all—even as he hovered on the edge of anger.
"Derek," Adrian called.
"Yes, Mr Yates."
"Go check."
"Understood."
Ten minutes later, a voice came from outside the door.
"Sir, the Cole family has two daughters. The one responsible for the accident is Felicia. The one who married into the family is the elder daughter, Riley… she's mentally impaired."
Riley did not speak.
She barely dared to breathe.
From Adrian's expression alone, it was clear—
The Cole family was finished.
Even if they somehow survived this, Felicia's future was ruined. No influential family in the capital would take her now.
Serves them right.
"Heh." Adrian let out a quiet, cold laugh.
"So even a low class family like the Coles dares to deceive me now."
His voice dropped, calm but edged with danger.
"They must be tired of living."
Derek Lane hesitated. "Should I send her back now and acquire the Cole family's shares?"
Adrian frowned slightly.
"No. Let them live a little longer. We'll settle this later."
His tone remained even, controlled.
"Right now, securing that project for the Yates Global is more important."
He paused, his gaze flicking briefly to Riley.
"A fool is still a wife. As long as she doesn't interfere, it doesn't matter who I marry."
"Understood."
The door closed softly.
Silence returned to the room.
And this time—
It carried weight.
Cold.
Dangerous.