The Billionaire Who Saved Me - Chapter 45: Chapter 45

"How long are you staying?" I asked, my gut screaming that the Gordon family knew I wasn't Katherine. Their silence wasn't kindness. It was a fear of exposing their five-year-old scheme. Every extra day they lingered was another threat.
"We'll leave tomorrow," Harvey snapped, shooting me a glare.
I said, "My leg's still healing, so I won't see you off. Take care. Chester, look after our parents for me."
"Of course." Chester nodded.
After leaving the hotel, I told my bodyguard to drive me straight home.
My head throbbed as the tangled mess of lies tightened around me. Mason had pulled me into this whirlpool, and now I was drowning.
He had promised a simple mission—to uncover the fact of the car accident and expose Helen. But reality was a snarled knot with no loose thread to tug. I couldn't even find where to begin.
There were hints of a lead, but every time I thought I had grasped something, it slipped right through my fingers. Frustration spiked. I rubbed my hair.
I limped through the door, and Mason was in the living room.
"Ten minutes early," he said, glancing at his watch. "Your conversation didn't go well, huh?"
"How'd you know I'd make it back?" I was surprised.
He added, "I also knew you'd be feeling rattled now. Am I right?"
"Right." I threw up my hands. "With skills like that, you could ditch business and be a fortune teller. You'd make a killing."
Mason's lips quirked. "Is that a compliment, Katherine?"
Ignoring him, I flopped onto the sofa and asked Nadia to make me some oatmeal.
Somehow, just seeing Mason could dissolve the storm in my chest. With him here, even chaos felt manageable.
I sank deeper into the couch, letting myself relax completely. This was my home. Why not get comfortable? But then I remembered Mason's standards and hastily straightened up.
To my surprise, no scolding came. Instead, he said, "I've got good news and bad news. Which first?"
I grinned. "Good news. I'm vetoing the bad."
He sighed, "Well, good news first. Upstairs, you'll find this year's Humdale bridal samples and custom ring designs. All from top-tier designers. The bad news is, if you keep sprinting like that, you'll limp down the aisle."
I pretended not to hear, bolting upstairs. Private couture wedding dresses and rings had been TV fantasies until now. I couldn't wait another second.
Pushing open the bedroom door, I found lavish boxes and a lookbook on the desk.
The first box revealed a wedding dress that shimmered as I lifted it—layers of gossamer silk, each dusted with diamonds so fine they looked like scattered stars.
The bodice's intricate embroidery stunned me. At first glance, I had assumed it was printed, but then I found that each thread was hand-stitched, finer than hair.
The masterpiece's crowning touch was two birds crafted from diamond clusters at the hem. I imagined them taking flight with every step I took. For a dizzying moment, pure joy stole my breath.
I whispered, "It's perfect. I'd die happy in this."
"Try it on," Mason's voice cut in from behind me. "Let's check the fit."
"Okay, but you have to go outside," I said dreamily, only now realizing he had entered the room. I had been too lost in my excitement to notice when he came in.
The moment the door clicked shut, I removed my clothes and slipped into the wedding dress. A perfect fit. Staring into the mirror, I barely recognized myself—a fairytale princess draped in diamonds and silk.
Just as I lost myself in the fantasy, Mason's voice shattered the moment. "Pathetic. One pretty dress, and you're swooning like a peasant at a market stall."
"Get out!" I hurled an apple at him. He caught it, took a crisp bite, and said, "This design can be finished in a month."
Though his words mocked me, his eyes never left my figure. I wanted to fire back, but then froze. "Wait, this isn't the actual wedding dress?"
Mason shot me a smug glance. "This is a sample, Katherine. Just for sizing. The real one will be a hundred times more exquisite."
"This is already perfect," I insisted.
"The real one will be woven from the finest mulberry silk, hand-embroidered by a master, and studded with imported diamonds, each individually cut."
"How much would that cost?"
"Seven million dollars." The words slipped out before Mason caught himself. "Katherine, are you really that money-obsessed?"
My knees buckled. The room swayed like I was standing on clouds.
Mason lunged forward, steadying me. "Is your leg hurting again? Sit down."
"Not my leg." I breathed. "I'm just dizzy. No. I can't sit. It might wrinkle the sample." A plan was already forming in my mind.
Mason released me, his voice dropping to a warning growl. "Have you already forgotten everything you learned these past three months? You're about to become a wealthy man's wife. Spending recklessly is your job.
"Elegance isn't optional but your armor in the upper class. Yet here you are, gawking at price tags like a street vendor. Don't talk like that again, or I won't let you off easy."
I muttered, "Fake elegance. Seven million dollars could build a big house for an orphanage. Enough for two kids per room."
"What did you say?" Mason's eyes narrowed dangerously.
I recognized that look—the calm before his storm. Fear prickled my skin, but I held my ground, backing away as I spat, "What? I can't fake nobility. This is who I am. Change my face, change my name, but I'll always—"
He didn't let me finish. Pinning me against the wall, he silenced me with a kiss.
I tried to push him away. Mostly terrified of wrinkling the sample dress. Sensing my intention, Mason finally broke the kiss, his lips grazing my ear as he murmured, "Fine. We'll go with this dress, and I'll donate seven million dollars to an orphanage. Happy now?"