The Wrong Fiancée: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance (Marriage by Contract Book 3)
The Wrong Fiancée: Chapter 4

I sometimes felt like Cinderella, I thought melodramatically as I walked on the beach, kicking the sand after my shift that evening.

Evil relatives, check.

Fucked up life, check.

Cleaning bathrooms and floors, check.

Prince Charming engaged to evil stepsister; check.

Dean Archer is not Prince Charming, Elika. The guy is a douchebag who fucked you for two weeks, showed you what attention looked like, and then dumped your ass because you don’t have a degree. He’s a shallow asshole.

With the face of an angel and a body made for sin.

Argh!

It was the best sex of my life. When I met Dean, I’d had one boyfriend. It had been exciting to finally be with someone who showed me why women lost their minds over orgasms. My eyes were opened to what an attentive man was like. When I was with Dean, I was all he saw. Granted, our time together was short, but even now, I remembered waking up with him and feeling like I was a princess.

‘You’re eating breakfast before you go to work, no discussion.’ He ordered room service.

‘Feel like a drink, darling? You look tired.’ He served me top-of-the-line champagne.

‘We don’t have to have sex if you’re too tired. Let’s just go to sleep.’ He held me, making me feel safe and loved for the first time since my mother died.

He seemed to understand my need to work hard so I could go back to school. He praised me for what I was doing. To then find out that he thought I was intellectually inferior had been a blow. It had shaped me in all the wrong ways because it decimated my self-confidence. How could I have felt loved by a man who was just having fun? It made me question my instincts and how I evaluated people.

Maybe I would’ve recovered from Dean, I thought as I walked into the mellow surf, kicking up the water, if I’d had the strength and space for it. But just a few weeks after Dean left—Daddy died, and since then, I’d been chasing doctors and treatments for and with Noe.

We’d never been close. She’d always been the distant sister. After Mama died, she and Daddy became a team. I’d pretty much had to take care of myself. But now Noe had a TBI; Traumatic Brain Injury, which was the result of the car accident that killed my father. She’d been pinned in the wreckage, crushed between the seat and the dashboard. Her legs were paralyzed, and while there was a glimmer of hope that intense physical therapy might help her regain some mobility, the harsh truth was that she would never be the same as she was before the accident.

But it wasn’t just the paralysis that weighed on her—it was everything that came with it. The depression. The frustration. The sense that her entire life had been ripped away from her. TBI didn’t just affect your body; it scrambled your mind in ways you never saw coming. Cognitive difficulties, mood swings, memory lapses, and constant, gnawing fatigue. It wasn’t just that Noe couldn’t walk—it was that her spirit had been shattered, too.

Despite all the technology, the therapies, and the world-class doctors at Ka Pono Rehabilitation Center, my sister had no fight left in her—only bitterness. She took it out on me, resenting that I could still walk, that I had what she didn’t. I understood. I really did. I could imagine how suffocating it must feel to be alive, but I find living itself a challenge. She had to start over from scratch. And while others managed to live full, beautiful lives without the use of their legs, Noe was stuck—paralyzed in more ways than one.

I’d done everything I could—was doing all that was possible. When her doctors in Honolulu had told us about Ka Pono, I’d been afraid of the costs but decided that I’d do whatever it took to get Noe there. And I did. All my savings, my father’s meager estate, everything went into taking care of Noe. Even now, more than half my salary went directly to her care—which meant that I needed every hour of overtime I could get, every shift that I was needed for. I couldn’t have a sick day—just couldn’t because my budget was incredibly tight.

Leilani, my boss, knew, and when friends asked us to go out, she understood that I couldn’t. I didn’t have the money for it, and I couldn’t let her pay for me. So, I stayed at home, which I didn’t mind. I’d always been an introvert, and since I worked with people—saw them, interacted with them all day—after work and at night, I needed to spend time with myself and recharge my batteries.

I had no days off. I worked six days a week at the resort, and on Wednesdays, which was my day off, after I spent time with Noe, I worked from four in the evening through midnight at the Lava Lua Tiki Lounge, mixing and serving drinks.

Was I exhausted? Fuck, yeah. Did I have a choice? I wish.

I went back to my cottage, took a shower to wash off the sand from the beach and the day, and went to bed. I dreamed about Dean again. He’d had recurring roles in my subconscious for the past four years.

I had tried to date, but the way my life was centered around paying for Noe’s treatments, there hadn’t been the time, energy, or even the inclination to get off. When I did manage to have sex, it had been rushed and hurried—a release and nothing more. It made me feel worse about myself. I didn’t have time to build relationships, and one-night stands were not my thing.

I was tired when I woke up with Dean on my brain.

The only blessing was that it was my day off, so I didn’t need to rush to the resort. I did have to go see Noe. I checked the air in my bicycle tire and started the ride to Ka Pono. I didn’t have a car—that was for people who could afford insurance payments.

Kauai was my favorite of all the Hawaiian islands. It wasn’t a hardship to live here. It was quiet—not as touristy as the big island.

One half of the island was tropical, while the other was a desert. At night, where the resort was, it rained, creating small waterfalls on the surrounding hills. In the morning, it was sunshine and blue skies. It was an incredible piece of paradise, so bicycling gave me the opportunity to see the island and was good exercise, I reminded myself. It was forty-five minutes one way to Ka Pono—so I had muscles within muscles in my legs.

Ka Pono was beautiful—fabulous, really. It sat nestled into the cliffs of the Kauai coastline. It featured open terraces, large windows that let in the endless ocean views, and gardens filled with native Hawaiian flowers. Inside, it was all sleek lines and quiet spaces—state-of-the-art therapy rooms, soft lighting, and calming tones. It didn’t feel like a hospital at all. It felt more like a retreat, a place to heal both body and mind. I had hoped the atmosphere would lift Noe’s spirits and maybe inspire her to fight harder, but she remained trapped in her bitterness.

‘You’re leaving me here,’ she had hissed when we’d come to Ka Pono, ‘so, you can live your life.’

On other days, she’d just lie in bed and accuse me of having a better life. ‘You can walk…I can never do that again. Every time I look at you, I hate you for having what I don’t.’

I wished I could stop going to see her and had done so for a week, which had upset Noe so much that Ka Pono had called me. It appeared that I was Noe’s punching bag, and she needed me to be the recipient of her vitriol.

Then, there were times she cried, and it broke my heart.

‘I know what you’re doing for me. For all the times I don’t say it, Elika, I am grateful. I just…you have your legs, I don’t and…I can’t believe my life is over. I’m so jealous of you. So jealous, and I can’t do anything about it.’

She had begged me often enough not to leave her be. In Hawaii, it wasn’t uncommon for people to slip into Pidgin English when emotions ran high, and Noe was no exception.

‘No hate me, Elika. Please, no hate me. I know I being a bitch, but you all I got. Promise me you never going let me go. I’ll be lost without you.’

Every night when we talked, I told her I loved her, and every time we saw each other, I reminded her again. I promised her I’d always be there for her—because she wasn’t just the only family she had; she was the only family I had, too.

When I got to Ka Pono, Noe’s nurse warned me that it wasn’t a good day. Noe was in a darker place than usual.

‘So, glad you’re here,’ Nurse Malia Kanoa, who had been with Noe for the past two years, said to me as soon as she saw me.

‘What happened?’ I asked Malia.

‘She feels she’s not making enough progress, though Dr. Iona thinks that she’s made so much. Do you know she can wiggle her toes now?’ Malia sounded mildly exasperated, which was saying something since she was someone I had never seen rattled. But then, Noe wasn’t an easy patient.

‘Yeah, I know. I thought she’d be over the moon about it.’

Malia shook her head but kept her face expressionless. ‘She’s been impossible, screaming, crying, calling everyone names. It’s good you’re here. You always calm her down. She needs you.’

I knew Noe relied on me. But I wished someone would think about what I wanted for a change. I needed a fucking break. I was exhausted—working nonstop, and on my days off, pouring everything I had into trying to lift Noe’s spirits. It left me completely drained. Part of me just wanted to live my life like a normal young person. But the day Daddy decided to drink and drive with Noe in the car, ‘normal’ went up in flames—just like his car.

When I got to her room, I saw that Malia was right. Noe was throwing herself a pity party. I tamped down my irritation.

You can walk, Elika, imagine how she’s feeling about her life? You want normal and you can probably have it someday, never again for Noe.

‘I can’t do this anymore,’ Noe said dramatically.

‘What does that mean?’ I sat down next to her on her bed.

‘I want to come and live with you.’

‘I’m hardly home. I can’t take care of you like they do here.’ This was an old argument. She didn’t really want to be in my small cottage. But this was how she picked a fight with me.

‘You just don’t want to take care of me,’ Noe snarled and banged her head against the headboard. ‘I hate my life. I hate you.’

‘You’re here for a reason, Noe. You’re making progress. Think about it. A year ago, you couldn’t even wiggle your toes.’

‘I used to be able to walk and now wiggling my toes is a success? Are you out of your mind?’ she screamed.

This went on and on until she finally calmed down, her anger bleeding into the depression she was always fighting. ‘Why bother, Elika?’ Her voice was low and defeated as she stared blankly out of her window, looking away from me. ‘Not like I going walk again, like you. What’s the point? Even if my legs could move a little—what’s going to change?’

‘It could change everything, Noe.’ I forced optimism into my voice, though I felt her despair dragging me down, too. ‘With the new therapies, you might regain enough strength to use a wheelchair independently. You could get back some control over your life. Maybe even work again.’

Noe used to manage a spa at a resort in Waikiki. She took such pride in herself. She’d gotten a degree in hotel management. She had told me to do the same as it was guaranteed employment in Hawaii—but I wanted to work in an art gallery. Well, it looked like neither of our dreams came true.

She scoffed, shaking her head. ‘Work again? I can’t even get out of bed without someone helping me. Do you know how pathetic that feels? What? You don’t want to pay my bills anymore? Is that it? Is that why you want me to go to work? In my condition?’

I’d wanted to scream at her, shake her, tell her that I wanted the best for her, but I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. That was the thing with a TBI—the injury was more than physical. It had rewired her brain, turning frustration into deep-rooted despair.

She wasn’t Noe anymore, not the Noe I remembered from before the accident. And honestly, we hadn’t been friends then, either. She’d always been on her own path, and I’d been on mine. Now, it was my responsibility to lift her up, to drag her out of that darkness, because if I didn’t, who would?

I let out a breath, thinking about how every visit to Ka Pono felt like I was walking on eggshells—hoping, just hoping, that maybe this time she’d show some spark, some glimmer of the old Noe. But it never came.

Still, I wouldn’t give up on her. I couldn’t. The treatments here were cutting-edge—new forms of nerve regeneration therapy, targeted physical exercises, and even some experimental procedures that held real promise. There was a chance—slim, but a chance—that with time, she could regain at least partial mobility in her legs. Maybe she could learn to stand again, even if she’d never walk the same. But it wasn’t just about mobility, it was about giving her back her will to live.

‘You have to keep trying,’ I told her softly, watching her hands clench into fists on the blanket, working herself up. ‘I know it feels impossible right now, but there’s still hope, Noe. This place—this treatment—it could make a difference. You could get some of your life back.’

‘Oh God, aren’t you full of positivity today,’ she threw back at me. ‘What? Did you get laid or something?’

Me? Positive? Yeah, right.

When I didn’t say anything, she sneered, ‘But who’d want you? Donny always thought you were too skinny and flat.’

Donny had been Noe’s boyfriend of three years, had being the operative word. He’d dumped her right after the accident. Like, I gave a shit what that asshole thought about me.

‘How about we go out for a bit?’ I rose to get her wheelchair ready.

She didn’t answer, but I knew she loved going out and pretending things were normal. I’d talk about this and that, topics that had nothing to do with her condition or mine for that matter, and we’d both pretend we were sisters again like we used to be, casual and playful.

So, I took her out for a stroll in her wheelchair and spent the afternoon cheering her up. By the time I got home and went for my night shift at Lava Lua, I was just about ready to collapse.

Seeing Dean at the tiki lounge with Felicity, Michael, and Rebecca’s daughter, Cristin, didn’t help. Theo, her boyfriend, seemed decent enough, but Cristin was just like her mother—and just like Felicity.

I had no idea what Dean saw in my cousin. She had a PhD, though, so maybe that made up for all her meanness and selfishness—after all, she was, probably, his intellectual equal while I was busy making Mai Tais for raucous tourists.