The Billionaire's Pretend Wife (Isabella)

Chapter 47 Forty Seven

“Do you expect me to believe that after what happened? Why would your sister do that to you?” he

asked.

“My parents owe me money, but they refused to pay me back after I got married,” she revealed. “My

sister also doesn’t want them to pay me, so that’s why she likes picking fights with me.”

“Is that all?” Jacob asked, still looking at her closely. Her story still didn’t make sense to him. What he

would rather know was why her family owed her money. And why they didn’t want to pay her back.

Why was her relationship with them so bad?

“It is,” she confirmed, and then looked up to meet his gaze again. “What else could there be to it?”

He wanted to ask about why she had a poor relationship with her family, but decided to shelve that. If

she wanted to tell him, she would.

“Nothing,” he said, looking ahead. After they had walked a few more paces in silence, he addressed

the other thing that had bothered him at dinner. “You should tell others that you are married,” he told

her.

Isabelle faced him and smirked. “Should I mark the word ‘married’ on my face to let everyone know that

I have a husband?”

“Maybe we should try that,” he joked, smiling at her cheekiness. “It probably would have helped with

your little friend from work,” he added.

Isabelle’s smooth brow creased in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He gave her a blank look. “What else? He is obviously interested in you. Has he started wooing you

yet?”

Isabelle’s frown deepened as she shook her head. “What? No! You’re wrong. He has never treated me

anything different from a colleague.”

Jacob scoffed. “You’re so naive if you really think that. He clearly wants to sleep with you.”

Isabelle’s face heated, whether from mortification or anger she couldn’t tell, at Jacob’s assertion.

“Excuse me?”

Was this why he had remained silent throughout dinner, brooding in his seat? She should have known

that it was too good that he would crash her dinner with Seth and not make such statements. She was

just relieved he hadn’t voiced his assumptions out loud during dinner.

“Don’t give me that look,” Jacob told her, “I saw how he was looking at you. It was clear that he wants

to get you into bed.”

“Not everybody is like you,” she snapped.

“Of course he is not like me,” Jacob agreed. “I am your husband, so it’s legal for me to sleep with you.

Him? He shouldn’t even dream of it.”

Isabelle’s mind couldn’t come up with an instant retort for that statement. Not when he was looking so

smug about it, one eyebrow cocked as he awaited her reply. Well, at least he wasn’t accusing her of

wanting to sleep with Seth, so she thought that was an improvement from their previous argument

about the man.

Face burning, she spun away from him and sped up, maintaining a few feet ahead of him for the rest of

the walk home.

When they got home, Isabelle headed straight to her bedroom, avoiding Jacob. He knew she was more

flustered than annoyed about his claims regarding Seth, so he knew she wasn’t mad at him.

From the first time he had seen that man, he had known he had an intention towards Isabelle, and it

seemed that Isabelle was yet to realise that. She was truly innocent, if she really believed that Seth’s

interest in her was only work-related.

Hadn’t she seen how shocked he had been when she told him she was married? The only reason a

man would have such a reaction was if he had his eyes set on a woman he thought was available.

Seth’s intentions aside, Jacob was glad to notice that Isabelle only regarded the man as a colleague.

While Jacob had no intention of revealing the fact that he was the one who had helped her with the

interview, he hoped she would soon find out that it wasn’t her coworker who had helped her. That way,

she wouldn’t have an excuse to have dinners with him. Knowing her, she would think to arrange

another dinner to make up for the almost-disaster this one had been.

But first, there was something he needed to fix, and fast.

He went and knocked on her door, hoping she wasn’t still determined to ignore him. After waiting a few

seconds, the door opened a crack and she looked at him through the small space. “Yeah?”

Holding his hand behind his back, he gave her a small smile. “Can I come in?”

“Why?” she asked, her voice defensive. He didn’t blame her. She probably thought he was there to

seduce her. After all the talk about being her husband and sleeping together… Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

“I want to give you something,” he told her.

“Oh?” she mumbled, and then stepped away, opening the door further. “Come in.”

“Is that the magic pass-phrase?” he teased as he walked into the room and she closed the door.

She walked in after him and gave him a tight-lipped smile that communicated that she wasn’t a fan of

him having fun at her expense.

Bringing forward his hand, he revealed the sapphire ring in his palm. “I want you to have this.”

Isabelle’s eyes lowered to the ring, and her eyes widened. “What? Why?” The ring was so beautiful and

looked expensive. Why was he suddenly giving her jewellery?

“Since we cannot mark your face,” he joked, “I figured a ring would suffice to show everyone that you

are married.”

“Oh,” she said, her guarded expression already gone. “It’s so beautiful.”

Reaching forward, he took her left hand and slipped the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly, as if it had

been made for her. “Do you like it?” he asked, stepping back.

“Yes,” she said, looking up at him with gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you.”

He smiled back, happy she was willing to wear it. At least now, he didn’t have to worry about ambitious

men thinking they could woo his pretty, innocent wife.

***

That weekend, Isabelle took the stuff she had gotten from Naomi and Lucy and went to a pawnshop.

She was hoping to make a good sum, but was surprised when the shop assistant said that they would

take everything for one low price.

“What? That’s not even enough for just this one bag,” she said, pointing to the Louis Vuitton bag Naomi

had relinquished to her. In fact, the price he gave her was probably only suitable for one of the knock-

off bags Lucy had given her.

“We are a pawnshop,” the assistant told her. “If you want quick cash, this is the best offer you’ll get.”

She doubted that. She would rather spend the day moving from one pawnshop to the other than give

everything away at a throwaway price.

“I’m sure I can get a better offer elsewhere,” she told the assistant, and started gathering her goods to

leave.

“Wait!” another voice, feminine this time, called to her.

Huh! Were they testing her to see whether she would take the low price?

When she turned around, she found it was the pawnshop owner who had addressed her. He eyes were

trained on the ring on Isabelle’s finger.

“What about that ring? Aren’t you selling it?” she asked her.