Married the Billionaire I Saved

Westmoor. 2 a.m. While waiting at a red light during her food delivery shift, Vivian Donovan witnessed a luxury sports car being launched into the air after a truck ran the light and struck it. The car flipped violently, landing upside down with its wheels pointing skyward. The vehicle was crushed beyond recognition, glass shattered everywhere, and the sharp smell of gasoline filled the air—an explosion was imminent. Shaken but determined, Vivian didn't hesitate. She abandoned her e-bike and sprinted toward the wreckage. Kneeling beside the driver's seat, she slapped the bloodied man's face. "Hey! Wake up! The car's going to blow—get out now!" No response. Vivian leaned into the mangled cabin, unfastened his seatbelt, and tried dragging him out—only to find his leg pinned. After several desperate tugs, the unconscious man whispered weakly, "Save me…" "I can't pull you out!" She strained with all her strength, but the leg was jammed tight—no movement. As the gasoline fumes thickened and danger surged, Vivian faltered, releasing her grip and blurting, "Sorry… I've got deliveries. Late fees… they'll dock my pay." She truly wanted to save him—but feared dying in the attempt. "Save me… I'll give you… one hundred million dollars." Though dazed, the man's survival instinct burned fierce. "One hundred million?" At the mention of money, Vivian's eyes flashed. She glanced at the emblem—Ferrari. He really was a tycoon. The offer likely wasn't empty talk. "There's a jack… in the trunk," the blood-soaked man strained to open his eyes, trying to memorize her face. But blood streamed into his vision, blurring everything. "Got it." No time to lose. Vivian dashed to the trunk, found the jack, and wedged it between the seat and dashboard. Only then did she manage to drag him free. They'd barely staggered two meters when—**BOOM**—a deafening explosion ripped through the air. The shockwave slammed them to the ground, and the man collapsed into unconsciousness. Pale and trembling, Vivian clutched her chest. "That was too damn close…" After catching her breath, she hauled him onto her e-bike, using the straps from her delivery box to bind them together, then wobbled unsteadily toward the hospital. At the billing counter, the clerk asked, "Name?" "I'm Ms…" Before she could finish, the clerk cut in, "Oh! You're the director's daughter—Lily, right?" Lily—her identical twin sister. They shared the exact same face and height, like mirror images. But… their fates were worlds apart. Vivian had been taken from her birth family as an infant, eventually sold after being passed around to her foster parents. A month ago, her foster parents suffered a serious car accident, left critically injured with massive medical bills. That's when her biological parents reappeared, offering to cover treatment—on one condition: Vivian must donate bone marrow to their youngest son, who had leukemia, and she must never reveal her face that was identical to Lily's. Her birth mother, Lainey Whitehead, declared, "Lily masters the four arts—music, chess, calligraphy, painting—and excels in poetry and dance. She's Westmoor's most beautiful woman. You're just a country girl—unfit for high society. We can't let your existence tarnish her reputation." To save her foster parents, Vivian endured humiliation and agreed. Tonight, delivering food late at night, she hadn't bothered with makeup—and now, she'd been recognized. Worse, she'd entered her biological father's hospital. With no choice, she silently accepted being mistaken for "Lily" and paid $5,000 under that name for surgery fees. After settling everything, exhausted, she returned to her rented apartment, took a shower, and began washing her dirty clothes—only to discover a black diamond ring with a rhombus setting in her pocket. Not thinking much of it, Vivian placed the ring on the table and collapsed onto the bed, intending to rest for a moment. She didn't know how long she'd dozed when a knock sounded at the door. "Who is it?" Dragging her $9.9 slippers, she shuffled to the door—only to see Lily stride in. "How dare you come…" Before Vivian could finish, Lily slapped her across the face. "Vivian, are you insane? Did you forget what I told you?" Tall and poised, Lily's long black hair flowed down her back. Her flawless, delicate features were lightly made up, radiating elegance and nobility—a beauty so captivating it could ensnare hearts. In contrast, Vivian wore cheap pajamas and $9.9 slippers—utterly out of place. Enraged, Vivian slapped her back—harder. She'd endured humiliation from her biological parents to save her foster family, but she'd never been someone who let others walk all over her. The sharp slap echoed. Lily cried out, "Vivian! How dare you hit me?!" Vivian's slap was far stronger—Lily's cheek instantly swelled. Rubbing her stinging hand, Vivian frowned. "Hit you? Suffer it. I'm not your mother—you don't get to expect me to indulge your arrogance." "You took some strange man to my father's hospital in the middle of the night! How am I supposed to face people? And you still think you're in the right?!" Red-faced with fury, Lily pointed at her. "When you came to Westmoor, I warned you—never use my face to draw attention. Do you even care about your foster parents' lives anymore?!" If someone hadn't told her father this morning, she might still be in the dark. "My face… hah." Vivian gave a bitter smile, her eyes filled with sorrow. Look at this unjust fate—even their identical faces weren't allowed to be shown. Just then, Lily's phone rang. She stepped aside to answer, glancing idly at the black diamond ring on the table. This ring… seemed familiar. "Mommy, what's up?" she asked. "Goodness, sweetheart! When did you save Bernard? How could you keep such a huge thing from me? The Jacobsons just sent someone over—they want to meet you in a week!"