The Billionaire Who Saved Me - Chapter 35: Chapter 35

After a moment of hesitation, Mason finally voiced what he'd been thinking, "Honestly, maybe it's for the best that the child is gone."
"You can finally breathe easy, huh?" I replied coldly, my heart growing even colder.
He let out a long sigh. But the next thing he said wasn't what I'd expected at all. "Since it's come to this, I suppose it's time you know the truth. I'll tell you what your real task is once you see my family."
I immediately focused. The gravity in his voice made it clear—whatever he was about to say, it wasn't going to be simple.
Mason began telling me a story from the past, and it was only then that I understood the true purpose behind the contract he had made with me.
It turned out, the face I had after my plastic surgery wasn't just some random choice. It was the real Katherine—Mason's actual fiancée.
Five years ago, just a few days before their engagement, Mason bought a brand-new Porsche. Both he and Katherine were Porsche fans, and Katherine was eager to test the car's performance.
That day, they were attending a car club gathering. Katherine insisted on switching cars with Mason. He hadn't thought much of it at the time and agreed.
But no one could've predicted that when the car reached a winding mountain road, the brakes suddenly failed, and the Porsche plummeted off a cliff.
By the time rescue teams arrived, all that remained was a pile of metal. Katherine was nowhere to be found.
The car doors were flung wide open, and barely a few feet from the wreckage was a large river—deep and fast-moving. Search parties scoured the area, but all they could find were patches of blood on the ground and a single woman's shoe by the riverbank.
They concluded that Katherine must have been swept away by the current. Both of their families mobilized every available resource and scoured the waters for days. But despite all their efforts, they failed to find Katherine or her body.
The car was a brand-new limited-edition model. A brake failure was virtually impossible. Mason ordered a full investigation, and the final report confirmed his suspicions: Someone had tampered with the car.
The route they'd taken that day had been planned well in advance. If Katherine hadn't decided at the last minute to swap cars with Mason, he would've been the one to disappear.
After the accident, Katherine's parents were devastated. They left the country and settled overseas.
I looked at Mason and asked, "So you changed me to look like your fiancée, as a way to remember her?"
To my own surprise, I didn't feel insulted by the idea of being someone's stand-in. If anything, I felt a sliver of admiration for Mason. So many years had passed, and yet he still clung to the memory of her. At least he wasn't heartless.
But Mason shook his head. "It's not that simple. I need you to go to Knight Manor to investigate the truth behind the crash.
"I have reason to believe the person who sabotaged the car is connected to my mother and brother."
"What?" I stared at him, stunned. "That can't be. How could your mother possibly try to kill you?"
"It's my stepmother," he clarified. "My biological mother died when I was seven. Six months later, my father married her."
I muttered, "Why don't you just say 'stepmother' to begin with? Calling her 'mother' is too confusing."
Mason didn't respond to the jab. He warned me, "This is exactly the kind of thing you'll need to be careful about. That mother and son are masters of manipulation. One wrong move, and you could be beyond saving."
He added, "No matter how you feel, you cannot let them see your true thoughts."
"Got it," I mumbled, realizing it hadn't been a slip of the tongue. He deliberately phrased things that way as a warning.
Mason continued, "Losing the child may have spared you greater danger. When my grandfather passed away, he left behind a will. It states that whoever—between my brother and me—has a son first can inherit 80% of his property.
"I'm eight years older than Richard, and that woman has always resented that will. If they had found out you were pregnant, your life would've been in serious danger."
Only then did I realize why Mason was so stubborn that I shouldn't keep the baby. It wasn't because he was afraid of responsibility, nor because he feared I'd cling to him endlessly—he was genuinely worried about my safety.
That thought touched me deeply. The pain of losing the child eased somewhat with his words.
If that was the case, then this baby truly hadn't come at the right time.
Soon, Nadia brought me some mashed potatoes. Though I had little appetite, I forced myself to eat a small bowl to help my body recover faster.
Mason told me to rest up in the hospital and made sure Nadia took good care of me before he left to go back to work.
I stayed in the hospital for only three days before I started insisting on being discharged. I refused to stay any longer. After all, a miscarriage wasn't a major illness. No injections or medication were necessary—just proper rest.
Mason didn't argue; he had my bodyguards escort me home.
After lying in bed at home for a few more days, I finally felt strong enough. So, once Mason got off work and seemed to be in a decent mood, I asked to return to the office.
"It's not urgent now," Mason said. "Xander's already taken over. You should get ready to meet my family."
"So soon?" I felt nervous. I wasn't prepared yet.
He glanced at me and snapped, "According to plan, we're already a week behind schedule. You think that's too soon?"
He rolled his eyes, "According to my plan, you showing up unannounced would've shocked my stepmother and her son. If we make our move before they catch on, maybe we can finally uncover the truth from back then.
"But you? You went to Lane Villa on a whim, ran into Richard, and almost messed everything up."
I didn't want to talk about that anymore. Changing the subject, I asked, "Who else is in the family? Tell me their likes and dislikes so I can prepare some gifts."
He replied, "That's not important right now. Look at this. It's from your mother."
I took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a gold bank card.
Mason explained, "She sold that house and left the money for you, in case of emergencies."
I clutched the card to my chest, tears flowing uncontrollably again. Even though she knew I was financially secure now, she still cared so deeply. How great a mother's love was.
Actually, I wasn't short of money now. After coming back, Mason gave me one million dollars as a revenge fund. I hadn't even spent $10,000 yet, and I'd already extorted hundreds of thousands from Oliver.
Now my mother sold her house and gave me the money—at least 700 thousand dollars.
In no time, I was practically a wealthy woman. It was much faster than slowly saving up bit by bit.
It was true that money often came from unexpected windfalls.
But I didn't want that money. Since childhood, my father had taught me that everybody needed money, but it had to come from the right path. Money earned through dirty ways could never last.
I said to him, "I'm going out tomorrow. Will be back soon."
"Take a bodyguard with you." Mason gave the order but didn't ask where I was going.
"Okay." I agreed.
The next morning, after Nadia insisted repeatedly, she finally bundled me up with clothes and a scarf before I left.
Outside, the temperature was a sweltering 86 degrees Fahrenheit. I wore long sleeves and pants, flat cloth shoes, and a scarf wrapped over most of my face, leaving only my nose and mouth exposed. A pair of oversized sunglasses covered my eyes.
I looked ridiculous, and I was going to get heatstroke for sure.
With a grimace, I asked Nadia, "Can I not wear the scarf?"
She replied with a serious face, "Madam, you haven't fully recovered yet. If you don't take care, there will be lasting effects."