Blurb：
**_"To survive my marriage to Dax Sheridan, I lied about being deaf. Now I'm trapped in his gothic mansion with the city's most dangerous villain - and my fake disability might get us both killed."_
Quinn Huxley's arranged marriage to ruthless tycoon Dax Sheridan was supposed to be simple: Use the System's prop hearing aids to fake deafness, avoid becoming collateral in his revenge schemes, and make this stone-hearted villain fall in love. But when a thunderstorm exposes Dax's hidden vulnerability and gang leader Vince Gallo kidnaps her, Quinn's double life implodes.
**Will Dax discover her hearing lie when:**
- She mocks his atrocious handwriting through sign language
- Barley the rescue dog triggers a kidnapping during their walk
- Vince's switchblade forces her to drop the "timid deaf bride" act
**Tags you'll obsess over:**
★ Villain with defining mole ★ Rescue dog sidekick ★ Gothic mansion secrets ★ ASL-taunting romance ★ FMC fakes disability
Content：
§01To survive my marriage to the city’s most feared man, Dax Sheridan, I had a secret: I wasn’t deaf.
It was a desperate lie, conceived in the five minutes it took for his black Cadillac to deliver me to the gates of his sprawling, gothic estate.
A gilded cage.
The arrangement had been sealed by my adoptive father, a man drowning in debts I never knew he had.
I was the final payment.
“The System,” a disembodied voice that had thrown me into this novel’s universe, had been brutally clear.
My mission was to make the villain, Dax Sheridan, fall in love.
Apparently, his single-minded focus on vengeance was derailing the entire plot for the story’s heroes.
But as the heavy iron gates groaned open, revealing a mansion that looked more like a fortress, survival felt like a more pressing goal than romance.
A man who had been single for twenty-eight years, surrounded by wealth and power, wasn’t just uninterested in love.
He was dangerous.
So the plan formed, a fragile shield against the unknown.
If I was broken, I couldn’t be a threat.
If I was deaf, I couldn’t be a spy.
The car door opened.
A tall man stood silhouetted against the harsh porch lights.
Dax Sheridan.
His sharp, intense eyes locked onto mine, a defining mole just below the corner of one, making him look perpetually severe.
He had a buzz cut, and a tailored suit that did nothing to hide the brutal strength in his shoulders.
He was the kind of beautiful that felt like a warning.
As he approached, I steeled myself.
The moment he sat down across from me in the cavernous, silent living room, I began to sign.
“A mute?” he asked, his voice a low gravel, a frown creasing his brow.
I pointed to my ear and shook my head.
Then I picked up a pen and a notepad from the marble coffee table, my hand surprisingly steady.
[My hearing is severely impaired. My hearing aids were lost in transit. I can’t understand what you’re saying, Mr. Sheridan.]
He scanned the note, his expression unreadable.
He took the pen, and in a scrawled, almost illegible script, he wrote back.
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The End