Hidden Identity: Becoming the mafia heiress after being blind

Teffid's POV

I smoothed my dress one last time, perched on the edge of our bedroom chair. My fingers trembled slightly, partly from excitement, partly from the lingering sensitivity to light. After five years of darkness, the world blazed with colors I'd almost forgotten.

The transplant had been a miracle. The donor list I'd languished on for years suddenly produced a match while Marcus was away on business. Perfect timing for my surprise.

The front door clicked open downstairs.

"Marcus," I whispered to myself, heart racing.

Footsteps echoed through our mansion, not one set, but two. My brow furrowed. The sound of heels clicked alongside his familiar stride.

"Tef? You home, sweetheart?" His voice carried up the stairs.

"In the bedroom," I called back, instinctively turning my gaze toward the door while keeping my expression neutral. The blind stare I'd perfected over five years.

They appeared in the doorway. Marcus, handsome as ever in his tailored suit. And beside him, a woman. Tall, elegant, her hand resting possessively on his arm.

"Darling," Marcus said, his voice dripping with the tenderness I thought was reserved for me. "I brought some contracts home to sign. Won't take long."

I kept my face blank, fighting to control my breathing as Marcus turned to the woman. Their bodies shifted closer. His hand slid to her waist with practiced familiarity.

"She can't see," he whispered, not bothering to lower his voice enough. "We have a few minutes."

The woman giggled, actually giggled, as Marcus pressed his lips to hers. Their kiss deepened mere feet from where I sat, supposedly blind and oblivious.

My stomach twisted into knots. Six years together. Five years of him guiding me through darkness, helping me dress, reading to me at night. All while, what? How long had this been happening?

I kept my face carefully blank, my eyes unfocused as they always had been. But I saw everything. Every touch. Every smile meant for someone else.

I sat frozen in my chair as they continued to kiss. Marcus backed the woman against our bedroom wall, the one where we'd hung photos of our engagement. Her hands roamed over him, tugging at his tie, unbuttoning his shirt with practiced ease.

"She really can't see anything?" the woman whispered, glancing my way.

"Nothing. Five years of darkness." Marcus chuckled. "Convenient, isn't it?"

My heart shattered with each word, but I maintained my blank expression. Years of blindness had taught me to hide my reactions when I couldn't see others' faces.

He slid his hands beneath her blouse, lifting it over her head. She stepped out of her skirt next, standing in our bedroom in nothing but lace underwear. My bedroom. Our home.

"Your turn," she purred, unbuckling his belt.

I watched my fiancé, the man who'd stayed by my side through five years of blindness, undress for another woman. His clothes dropped to the floor.

Marcus suddenly turned toward me. I kept my gaze unfocused, my breathing steady despite the scream building in my throat.

He approached, his naked body just inches from me.

"Sweetheart," he said, voice gentle as he bent down and kissed my cheek. "Would you prefer your headphones? Some music while we discuss these contracts?"

I nodded, swallowing back tears that threatened to expose everything.

"Yes, please," I whispered.

His fingers brushed mine as he picked up the headphones from the side table. He placed them over my ears, adjusting them with tender care that made me sick.

"There you go. Just relax."

He turned back to the woman, who now lounged across our bed.

Marcus slid beside her, their bodies intertwining as he pressed his lips to hers.

I sat there, paralyzed.

My finger found the pause button on my phone. The music stopped, but I kept the headphones on. Their voices filled my ears instead.

"She's gotten so dependent," Marcus said, his voice husky with desire. "It's almost too easy."

The woman laughed, a tinkling sound like breaking glass. "You've always had a talent for making women need you."

"Not you though," he groaned as their movements intensified. "Never needed anyone."

"Just you," she whispered. "Always you."

"God, Tifa," he moaned. "It's always been you."

My stomach churned as I heard the name. Tifa. The name he'd mentioned so casually over the years. His college sweetheart.

A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. I kept my face turned slightly away, praying they were too engrossed in each other to notice.

The headboard began to knock against the wall.

"What about the wedding?" Tifa asked between gasps.

"Postponed again," Marcus laughed. "Doctor's orders. Too much stress for poor blind Teffid."

They laughed together, the sound mingling with their moans.

"You're terrible," she said, not sounding disapproving at all.

"You love it."

I bit my lip until I tasted blood, fighting to keep silent as they reached their climax together. My tears fell freely now, but silently. Five years of darkness had taught me how to cry without making a sound.

"I love you," he told her, the words stabbing through me. Words he'd whispered to me just last night on call.

"Always have," Tifa replied.

They collapsed together on my sheets, breathing heavily, laughing softly.