Our eyes met on the bedroom floor.

And for a moment, neither of us moved.

The silence between us felt heavier than the fall.

I could still feel his hands gripping my arms—firm, steady, controlled. Not the weak, unstable grip of someone who couldn’t move his own body.

My mind raced.

Wheelchair.

The accident.

Five years of paralysis.

All lies.

Slowly, very slowly, Eduardo released my arms.

But he didn’t let go of my gaze.

“You figured it out faster than most people would,” he said quietly.

My heart pounded so hard I thought he could hear it.

“You… you can move,” I whispered.

His lips curved slightly—not quite a smile.

“Yes.”

My chest tightened.

“Then why the wheelchair?” I demanded.

Eduardo exhaled slowly and leaned his head back against the bed behind him, still sitting on the floor.

“For the same reason you married me,” he said.

I frowned.

“What does that mean?”

He studied my face for a long moment, as if deciding how much truth I deserved.

“Because people are easier to expose when they think you’re powerless.”

A chill ran down my spine.

“What people?”

He finally shifted his body and sat upright beside me.

Perfectly upright.

No trembling.

No weakness.

Nothing about him suggested disability.

“My family,” he said calmly. “Business partners. Lawyers. Relatives who suddenly became very caring after the accident.”

My throat went dry.

“So you pretended… for five years?”

“Yes.”

“That’s insane.”

“Effective,” he corrected.

I stood up quickly, trying to process everything.

“So the marriage… was that part of the act too?”

For the first time, something unreadable crossed his expression.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On you.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re telling me you let my family sell me into this marriage while you were perfectly fine?”

His eyes hardened slightly.

“I didn’t ask for that arrangement.”

“But you accepted it!”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He was silent for several seconds.

Then he spoke.

“Because I wanted to see who would agree.”

A cold sensation spread through my stomach.

“And what did you conclude?” I asked quietly.

“That your stepmother is desperate.”

That answer didn’t surprise me.

“And me?” I pressed.

Eduardo’s gaze softened slightly.

“You looked like someone walking into a fire because she thought it would save someone else.”

The words caught me off guard.

I crossed my arms.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“No,” he said calmly. “But I know guilt when I see it.”

I felt suddenly exposed.

“Let me guess,” I said bitterly. “You married me because you wanted to study me like one of your family experiments.”

“Not exactly.”

“Then explain.”

Eduardo slowly stood up.

Fully.

Effortlessly.

Seeing him on his feet made something inside me twist again.

He walked toward the large window of the bedroom, the city lights of Curitiba glowing beyond the glass.

“You’re the first person who didn’t look at me like money,” he said quietly.

I blinked.

“What?”

“During the ceremony. Everyone else kept glancing at the wheelchair… calculating what it meant for inheritance.”

He turned slightly.

“You never did.”

“That’s because I didn’t want to be there.”

“I know.”

The honesty in his voice unsettled me.

“So what happens now?” I asked.

He studied me again, as if measuring something invisible.

“That depends on what you want.”

“What I want?”

“Yes.”

I laughed bitterly.

“I want my life back.”

“And if I told you this marriage could give you more freedom than you had before?”

I shook my head.

“You don’t know Márcia.”

“Your stepmother,” he said calmly. “Márcia Tavares. Two failed investments. Three hidden loans. And a gambling problem she thinks no one knows about.”

My stomach dropped.

“How do you know that?”

“I told you,” Eduardo replied. “People reveal a lot when they think you’re harmless.”

The room suddenly felt colder.

“So what now?” I repeated.

Eduardo walked back toward the bed and picked up the wheelchair.

Then, to my shock, he calmly sat in it again.

Just like before.

Weak posture.

Controlled breathing.

The illusion returned instantly.

“If anyone asks,” he said quietly, “you help me move.”

I stared at him.

“You’re continuing this?”

“For now.”

“And me?”

He looked directly into my eyes.

“You can expose me.”

My eyebrows lifted.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you risk that?”

“Because if you do…” he said calmly, “…you’ll destroy the one thing keeping your stepmother from losing everything.”

I froze.

The truth hit instantly.

If the Figueiredo family believed Eduardo had been deceiving everyone, the agreement with my family would collapse.

All the debts would come back.

My father would lose the house.

Eduardo watched the realization cross my face.

“Exactly,” he said softly.

My chest rose slowly as I breathed.

“You’re manipulating me.”

“No,” he said.

Then he added quietly:

“I’m offering you a partnership.”

Silence filled the room again.

Outside, the city lights flickered in the distance.

Finally I asked the question that had been burning in my mind since the moment we fell.

“Why me?”

Eduardo didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he leaned forward slightly in the wheelchair.

And said something that made my heart skip.

“Because someone tried to kill me five years ago.”

The air seemed to disappear from the room.

“And I think the same person arranged this marriage.”

My voice dropped to a whisper.

“You think my family is involved?”

Eduardo’s eyes darkened.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that your stepmother knows far more about that ‘accident’ than anyone realizes.”

A cold wave ran through me.

Suddenly the marriage didn’t feel like a sacrifice anymore.

It felt like the beginning of something far more dangerous.

And as Eduardo reached for the bedside lamp, his voice lowered.

“Which means, Carolina…”

The light clicked off.

“…our wedding might be the first move in someone else’s game.”

The bedroom sank into darkness after Eduardo switched off the lamp.

Only the pale glow from the city of Curitiba filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the floor where we had fallen minutes earlier.

My heart was still racing.

“Someone tried to k!ll you?” I whispered.

Eduardo’s silhouette remained perfectly still in the wheelchair.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Five years ago. The night of the accident.”

I slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to make sense of everything.

“All this time… everyone believed you were paralyzed.”

“That was the plan.”

“Your plan?”

“No,” he said quietly. “My grandfather’s.”

That surprised me.

“The head of the Figueiredo family?”

“Yes.”

I leaned forward.

“So the accident was real?”

Eduardo nodded faintly.

“The crash happened on a mountain road outside the city. My car lost control and went straight through a guardrail.”

My stomach tightened.

“That sounds like more than an accident.”

“It was.”

A cold silence settled between us.

“And your grandfather knew?” I asked.

“He suspected.”

“What did he do?”

Eduardo’s voice grew colder.

“He told the world I would never walk again.”

I blinked.

“Why would he do that?”

“Because a weak man is not a threat.”

The logic was terrifying.

“So the people who wanted you d3ad… stopped watching you.”

“Exactly.”

I felt a chill crawl up my spine.

“And you’ve been pretending ever since?”

“For five years.”

“That must have driven you insane.”

Eduardo let out a quiet breath.

“You would be surprised how much people reveal when they think you’re powerless.”

I looked toward him again.

“So you’ve been watching everyone.”

“My family. Business partners. Lawyers. Even friends.”

“And?”

His answer came quietly.

“I learned that betrayal runs deeper than I imagined.”

A heavy feeling formed in my chest.

“And now you think my stepmother is connected?”

“I think she’s connected to someone who is.”

I rubbed my temples.

“This is crazy.”

Eduardo wheeled himself closer to the bed.

“I agree.”

“So why marry me?”

“For two reasons.”

I looked up.

“First,” he said, “because the arrangement came from a source I’ve been investigating.”

“And the second?”

His gaze locked with mine.

“Because I wanted someone inside your family.”

The realization hit me.

“You’re using me.”

His expression didn’t change.

“Yes.”

The honesty stunned me.

“But I’m also offering you something.”

“What?”

“The truth about why your stepmother pushed you into this marriage.”

My chest tightened.

“You think she had another reason besides money?”

Eduardo nodded.

“Debt alone wouldn’t explain the speed of the arrangement.”

I remembered how quickly everything had happened.

The sudden proposal.

The pressure.

The wedding within weeks.

It had felt rushed even then.

“You think she was trying to place me here,” I said slowly.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Eduardo leaned back slightly in the wheelchair.

“That’s what we need to discover.”

I stared at the floor.

Everything in my life had changed in a single night.

Then another thought struck me.

“Does anyone else know you can walk?”

“Only two people.”

“Your grandfather?”

“Yes.”

“And the second?”

“My doctor.”

I looked back at him.

“And now me.”

“Yes.”

“Why trust me with that?”

Eduardo’s voice softened slightly.

“Because when we fell earlier…”

He paused.

“…you looked shocked. Not greedy.”

I almost laughed.

“That’s your standard for trust?”

“For now.”

Silence filled the room again.

Finally I asked the question that had been sitting like a stone in my chest.

“If someone tried to k!ll you before…”

I hesitated.

“…what makes you think they won’t try again?”

Eduardo’s eyes darkened in the faint light.

“They will.”

The calm certainty in his voice terrified me.

“And this marriage…” I whispered.

“…might have just brought them closer.”

At that moment, a sudden sound echoed from downstairs.

A door closing.

Both of us froze.

I looked toward the bedroom door.

“Did you hear that?”

Eduardo’s posture changed instantly.

The calm, calculating man vanished.

Now he looked alert.

Dangerously alert.

“No one should be here tonight,” he said quietly.

My pulse quickened.

“The staff?”

“They were dismissed after the wedding.”

Another faint sound came from the hallway.

Footsteps.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Eduardo’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“Carolina.”

“Yes?”

“Help me back onto the bed.”

My eyes widened.

“What?”

“Quickly.”

I rushed over and helped lift him as he pretended to struggle.

Within seconds he was lying stiffly on the mattress.

The wheelchair beside the bed.

The perfect illusion of a helpless man.

Just as the bedroom door handle slowly began to turn.