THE BILLIONAIRE'S BETRAYED BRIDE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The car arrived at exactly 3:45.

Fifteen minutes early.

Of course it did.

I stared at it through the window for a second before grabbing my bag. Somehow, even the timing felt expensive. The kind of thing I probably wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't already spent the entire afternoon wondering what exactly I was doing.

The driver got out and opened the door for me.

"Miss Valeria."

"Oh Thank you."

I climbed in, trying not to look as nervous.

The back seat was ridiculously comfortable. I sank into it and immediately felt guilty for enjoying it.

I smoothed my navy dress over my knees and looked out of the window.

The city slowly changed as we drove. Familiar streets disappeared behind us, The shops became fewer, The houses got bigger, Then there were walls Huge ones.

By the time we reached the Hayes estate, I'd run out of reasons to tell myself I could still change my mind.

The gate took forever to open.

Okay, maybe not forever.

Probably a minute.

But sitting there in the car, watching two enormous iron gates slowly swing apart, it felt like forever.

There was some kind of family crest worked into the metal. I didn't recognize it, but then again, I wasn't exactly familiar with rich family crests.

Beyond the gate was a long driveway surrounded by perfectly maintained gardens.

And then I saw the house.

I actually forgot to breathe for a second.

It wasn't a house.

Not really.

It was the sort of place I'd only ever seen in movies, where nobody seemed to worry about electricity bills or leaking roofs.

Three stories of pale stone ,Huge windows. A fountain in the middle of the courtyard, spraying a fine mist into the afternoon sunlight. There were two enormous wings stretching out from either side.

I couldn't even imagine how many rooms were inside.

The car stopped.

I didn't move.

"Miss Valeria?"

I blinked.

The driver was standing beside the open door.

"Sorry." I quickly climbed out. "Yes. Thank you."

I barely made it to the front steps before someone appeared at the entrance.

A woman in a neat uniform smiled politely.

"Miss Valeria ,Madam Hayes is expecting you."

"Right."

I suddenly became very aware of my shoes.

"This way please."

I followed her inside.

The first thing I noticed was the floor.

Marble.

The second was the ceiling.

It was so high that I immediately wondered what it would cost to replace a lightbulb up there.

My footsteps echoed as we crossed the foyer.

There was a huge curved staircase to one side, and photographs covered the walls along the hallway.

I slowed down without meaning to.

A wedding photograph.

A younger Alexander.

I stared for half a second longer than I probably should have.

So that was him.

There was another photograph beside it. A distinguished-looking man who looked enough like Alexander that I didn't need anyone to explain who he was.

His father, I assumed.

"Miss Valeria?"

I realized I'd fallen behind.

"Sorry."

We continued down the hallway.

The sitting room was bright, with enormous windows overlooked the gardens.

Madam Hayes was sitting near them with her injured leg resting on a cushioned stool.

Her face lit up when she saw me.

"There you are!"

She reached for my hand almost immediately.

"Sit, sit. I've been waiting all week for this."

I smiled as I sat across from her.

"Thank you for having me."

She looked considerably better than she had at the hospital.

"You look so much better."

"I feel much better." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Don't tell my son."

I laughed.

"He's convinced I'm still supposed to be in bed."

"Sounds like him."

She rolled her eyes.

"Exactly Now, tea?"

There was already a tray sitting between us.

I nodded.

"Please."

The housekeeper had apparently prepared enough tea and food for twelve people.

I poured myself a cup mostly because I needed something to do with my hands.

The tea was good.

Very good.

Probably because it didn't come from a little plastic sachet I bought at the supermarket.

I took another sip.

Madam Hayes watched me over the rim of her cup.

"So."

I looked up.

"Tell me about yourself."

"About myself?"

"Yes."

She smiled.

"Everything."

I laughed nervously.

"There's really not that much."

"I don't believe you."

"Why?"

"Because people who say that usually have the most interesting stories."

I wasn't sure that was true, but somehow I found myself telling her anyway.

At first, I kept it simple.

Law school.

My part-time job at the library.

My apartment.

Studying late.

Trying to keep up with everything without completely losing my mind.

Then, somehow, I was telling her more.

I didn't even notice when I stopped worrying about whether I was talking too much.

She listened.

Really listened.

She asked questions, laughed when I made jokes about school, and never once gave me the feeling that she was comparing my life to hers.

When I finally paused, she smiled.

"A law student."

"Yes."

"That takes discipline."

I shrugged.

"Sometimes."

"And you're supporting yourself through school?"

"Mostly."

I took another sip of tea.

"Scholarships help. But rent still exists."

She laughed.

"Unfortunately, it does."

"I've tried explaining that to my landlord."

"Did it work?"

"No."

She laughed again.

There was something about her laugh that made the room feel less intimidating.

"I admire you," she said.

I looked at her.

"Really?"

"Very much. You could have chosen something easier."

"I like law."

"That's not what I meant."

I waited.

She looked at me for a moment.

"You chose to build your own life."

I didn't know how to respond to that.

So I smiled.

"Some days I question that decision."

She laughed.

"Of course you do."

"Some days I mostly just want to graduate so I can sleep for a week."

"That," she said seriously, "I understand."

I laughed.

And just like that, the mansion stopped feeling quite so enormous.

For a while, it was just tea.

Just conversation.

Just two women sitting in a room talking.

Then her expression changed.

Not dramatically.

Just enough for me to notice.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"That night."

I knew exactly what she meant.

"The store?"

She nodded.

"Why did you stop?"

I frowned slightly.

"Because you were hurt."

"That isn't what I'm asking."

I looked down at my cup.

"I know."

She waited.

I thought about it.

"I honestly don't know."

"Most people would have walked away."

"I know."

"Why didn't you?"

I shrugged.

"It just didn't occur to me."

She was quiet.

"I saw someone who needed help," I said. "Everybody else was walking past you like nothing had happened. I couldn't do that."

"Even though you didn't know me?"

"Especially because I didn't know you."

She looked at me for a long moment.

Then she smiled.

"Most people tell themselves that someone else will help. It's easier."

"Maybe."

"You don't seem to do things the easy way."

I smiled.

"I've been told."

She reached across the space between us and touched my hand.

"I think you're a rare kind of person, Valeria."

I didn't know what to say to that.

So I took another sip of tea.

It suddenly felt very hot.

We talked for almost two more hours.

I told her more about school. She told me stories about her husband. Somewhere in the middle of all that, she told me about Sunhee's attempt at gardening.

Apparently, Sunhee had managed to kill almost every plant in the garden.

I laughed so hard I nearly spilled my tea.

"I need to meet this woman."

"You do," Madam Hayes said. "Then you can hear her excuses yourself."

By the time the housekeeper came in and quietly reminded her of the time, I was genuinely surprised.

"That late already?"

Madam Hayes smiled.

"You've been here for nearly two hours."

I looked toward the windows.

The sunlight had already started fading.

I hadn't noticed.

I stood and adjusted my dress.

"Thank you. I had a really nice time."

"You'll come again."

It wasn't a question.

I smiled.

"I'd like that."

She took my hand again.

"This isn't a one-time kindness, Valeria."

Something about the way she said it made my chest tighten.

"I know."

I said goodbye and followed the housekeeper toward the entrance.

I was almost at the front door when I heard the sound of a car outside.

The gate.

Then tires against the driveway.

I stopped.

I knew that car.

A dark one pulled to a stop outside.

The driver's door opened.

Alexander stepped out.

He was loosening his tie as he walked, looking tired and completely unaware that anyone was still inside.

Then he looked up.

His eyes found mine.

He stopped.

So did I.

For a few seconds, neither of us moved.

Alexander stared at me standing in the doorway of his mother's house.

And judging by the look on his face, he definitely hadn't been expecting to see me there.