Nolan Rothschild

The man in the wheelchair remained silent, gliding quietly until his knees bumped against the bed where Hailey was lying. Hailey bit her lower lip, suppressing the urge to scream for help, and strained her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The thin veil obstructed her vision, but she tried to relax as the figure sat rigidly. Suddenly, a cold hand touched her legs, encircling her ankle. She flinched and attempted to kick against the tight grip.

 

"Be still. You're awake," he said gently, though his tone carried a hint of uncertainty. He rolled his wheelchair backward, searching for the light switch. Locating it, he flipped it on without warning. Hailey squinted reflexively, testing the restraints on her wrists. She could now clearly see the face of the stranger—the sharp angle of his chin and his piercing steel-blue eyes. The light from the elegant chandelier cast a heroic glow upon him. Slowly, he moved toward the head of the bed and removed the gauzy head covering, allowing her to take a deep breath and catch a whiff of his cologne.

 

"Please..." she croaked, her throat feeling sore. "Please set me free. Someone abducted me, and I don't know where I am."

 

The man raised an inquisitive eyebrow, his lips forming a grim line. He ran his tongue over his lower lip, contemplating his next words. "Abducted? Young miss, you were not abducted. You were brought here by your father. But of course, you know why. We are to be married in a month."

 

Hailey was rendered speechless, pondering everything he had just said. She had fallen asleep in one room and woken up in another that was completely unfamiliar. Her previous life had not prepared her for the challenges she now faced. Her lower back ached from the uncomfortable position she had been restrained in, and she had no idea how long she had been tied up like that. It suddenly dawned on her—the incense. It must have contained some sleep-inducing substance deliberately left by Cassidy in her room. It was just the beginning of her manipulations. Another pressing issue was the impending marriage to the man sitting before her. Cassidy had mentioned a crippled man the previous night, among her string of lies, and now she was face to face with him. Could this be him?

 

"I must confess that I don't know the name of my bride. And you are?" he asked.

 

"I'm Hailey Lincoln," she automatically replied, momentarily forgetting she had used her adoptive last name.

 

"Lincoln? Is there some mistake? I was informed that you are a Lincoln, the first daughter," he questioned, his tone laced with confusion.

 

Hailey realized her mistake and flexed her fingers, encouraging blood flow. "Sorry about that. I am Hailey Lincoln, not Bale. It's... um..."

 

She paused, noticing his growing skepticism. Her story seemed dubious—how could anyone forget their own last name? If she wanted to gain his trust, she needed to be as believable as possible. But first, she wanted the restraints off her wrists. She felt like a sacrificial lamb offered to some Norse god.

 

"Mr. Rothschild, could you please untie me? I'm extremely uncomfortable, and Ineed to use the restroom," she pleaded, hoping to evoke a sense of urgency in his mind. While she was indeed mildly pressed, her main desire was to relieve the strain on her back and hands. He held up three fingers, signaling for her to wait.

 

"Firstly, I am not Mr. Rothschild; that's my father. I have been Master Nolan all my life," he corrected her, his expression stern. "Secondly, I did not tie you up, as you can see, since I am physically unable to do so. And lastly, are you truly in need of urgent relief?"

 

Hailey mustered the confidence to respond with a resolute "Yes," as their eyes locked. His eyes were captivating and beautiful, leaving her momentarily unable to utter a lie. He tilted his head, and a thick lock of hair fell over one eye. It was unfortunate that he was confined to a wheelchair. She could see the strength in his broad shoulders and his clean-shaven face.

 

"No," she finally admitted, unable to withhold the truth any longer. She found herself opening up to him. "I am not who you think I am. I only found out about this engagement yesterday. My father left my mother for my stepmother, Leah, and I was raised by foster parents after my mother passed away. You were probably expecting someone more refined and intelligent, someone like my stepsister, Cassidy. I don't want to get married, at least not right now. This whole situation feels like a setup. Please, Nolan, you must help me."

 

His name felt foreign on her tongue, the kind of name one would encounter in movies or glossy British magazines. Yet, it suited him, and in that moment, his lips pressed together as he retreated into thought. It took a while before he spoke again.

 

"Are you saying all this because I am disabled?" he asked, his tone tinged with hurt. "I assure you, if you marry a Rothschild, you will lack for nothing. While I may not be able to satisfy you physically as a husband should due to my condition, I will treat you well, and you will have your freedom starting now."

 

He gently touched her shoulders and trailed his fingers upward, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. When he reached the restraints, he skillfully untied the knots, humming softly. Once he finished, he took her small hands in his and massaged them with care, alleviating the ache. His concern melted her heart, and his touch was tender, his large fingers kneading away the pain in her hands.

 

"You can confide in me, Hailey. Your thoughts seem scattered," he said, and a shiver ran down her spine as she attempted to withdraw her hands. He held on stubbornly. "I want to help you seek justice against those who have hurt you, but I can only do so if you tell me what's troubling you."