All Chapters of The Disabled CEO's Swapped Bride: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The grand ballroom of the Caldwell Estate glittered under the glow of crystal chandeliers, and the air was thick with the scent of champagne, designer perfumes, and the murmur of high society.Everywhere she looked, Sarah Miller saw faces turned not to her, but to the dazzling figure just steps ahead.Victoria Reed, the girl everyone believed was Eleanor and Richard Caldwell's daughter, moved through the crowd with the ease of someone who knew she belonged.Her dress, a sleek midnight blue silk that fit her like it was made for her alone, shimmered with every step.The Caldwell name was attached to her life, to her past, to her future, or at least, it had been until three months ago.In stark contrast, Sarah stood beside her countryside mother, Mary, in a modest cream colored dress that felt wrong against the opulence surrounding her.The dress was too simple, too plain, a stark reminder that she’d only just learned to navigate the chaos of a city’s department store, let alone the hig

Few days later, Eleanor Caldwell’s footsteps echoed sharply against the marble floor of her study as she paced, her anger spiraling.She tightened her grip on her phone, unable to tear her eyes from the blaring headlines that flashed accusations, mockery, and speculation with every scroll."Socialite Scandal: Victoria Caldwell’s Secret Fling Caught on Camera!""Perfect Heiress or Perfect Disaster? Victoria Caldwell’s Latest Entanglement Raises Eyebrows"The photographs left little to the imagination, Victoria, in a sleek dress, entwined with a man unmistakably familiar to those who kept tabs on high society romances.Victoria's ex boyfriend, a notorious playboy with an appetite for risk, and an unrepentant grin on his face.They were pictured just outside a bar, oblivious to the camera’s gaze, Victoria’s hand resting on his chest, the implication clear.It was an unforgivable slip, one Eleanor knew could easily incite even the family’s closest allies to pull back, or worse, to whisper

Eleanor hesitated before answering, the slightest crack in her voice betraying a hint of pity. “It’s a lot to ask of her, Richard. She’s only just begun to adjust here.”“Adjust?” he repeated, sounding almost amused. “This is her adjustment. She was born into this life, Eleanor, and maybe… maybe this is her true calling. We owe her parents nothing but gratitude for raising her well. Now, she must learn to fulfill the role she was meant to play.”In the silence that followed, Sarah’s hands shook, her grip on the doorframe tightening as she felt the sting of tears she refused to let fall.Her life, a transaction, a fix to save a family she’d only recently met.She’d known her place here was tenuous, yet hearing it spoken so coldly laid bare the isolation she’d felt ever since stepping into the Caldwell world.Then, Eleanor’s sigh reached her again, softer now, almost resigned. “And what if Sarah refuses?”“She won’t,” Richard said, his tone dismissive, as if he’d never even considered t

Nights on the mountain were peaceful. Sarah would sit by the window, her face illuminated by candlelight as she read the few books they had at home.They were mostly second hand novels, dog eared and worn, but they were treasures to her.She would press her fingers to the faded words, tracing their outlines as if memorizing every curve, every letter.Her mother, Mary, would come in sometimes, her arms full of firewood, her face tired but warm.“Books are like windows,” Mary would say, patting Sarah’s hand. “Even if you can’t see everything yet, they’ll open up worlds for you someday.”Sarah believed her. She knew they didn’t have much, but somehow, her parents made her feel as if the world was hers to explore.She dreamed big, even though it was hard to imagine a life beyond the mountain.One day, when she was fourteen, she sat with her father by the river that ran through the valley. The afternoon sun cast golden flecks across the water, and they sat in comfortable silence, a picnic

The crisp morning air was strangely still, as if the whole world was holding its breath.At the Caldwell mansion, sunlight spilled through floor to ceiling windows, casting a cool glow over the marble floors.Eleanor Caldwell sat poised on the edge of an ornate armchair, her knuckles white as she held the envelope in her hands.Across the room, her husband Richard paced in front of the towering stone fireplace, his brow furrowed, his eyes locked on the same envelope he held.Meanwhile, miles away in a quiet farmhouse nestled between rolling hills, Mary Miller stood by the kitchen table, her fingers trembling as she stared at the letter in her hands.James sat beside her, his hand resting atop hers.His face was lined with worry and the strain of sleepless nights, yet his gaze was steady, holding onto the hope that the results in Mary’s hands would only confirm what they had always believed.That Sarah was theirs.But neither household was prepared for the truth written in sterile, unf