MARRIED TO THE BILLIONAIRE

chapter 5

Katrina pov

The rest of the evening passed in a tense, agonizing blur. Every single click of silver cutlery against the fine porcelain plates felt like a countdown to my own execution. I barely swallowed three bites of the expensive dinner Mrs. Anna’s maids had prepared. My stomach was tied in absolute knots, burning with a mixture of raw terror and sharp, suffocating jealousy. Across the mahogany table, Stacy sat like a reigning queen, laughing softly at Cove’s corporate stories, effortlessly inserting herself into the conversation as if she belonged there. As if she hadn't thrown this exact life away two months ago.

After we finished eating, the family migrated back into the grand, stone-walled sitting room. The air was thick with the scent of burning expensive candles and old money. Desperate for any sense of security, I just sat beside my husband on the plush velvet sofa. I reached out, my fingers trembling slightly as I rested my hand on his knee, silently begging his presence to anchor me against the storm. Cove looked down at me, his dark eyes softening instantly as he covered my small hand with his large, warm palm. That simple, protective gesture should have comforted me, but it only made the heavy guilt in my chest tighten until it physically ached. He loved a lie. He loved a girl named Stacy Roberts, completely unaware that the real one was sitting right across from him.

The fragile peace shattered completely when my mother-in-law leaned forward, a brilliant, high-society smile spreading across her face.

Mrs. Anna looked directly past the real Stacy, her eyes landing squarely on me. "Stacy, darling," she began, her voice dripping with maternal anticipation. "When are we expecting our grandchild? Your father-in-law and I are getting older, and the mansion is far too quiet. We need a little Harrison running around the halls."

The question felt like a bucket of ice water poured over my head. My breath caught completely in my throat, and my heart hammered violently against my ribs. Beside me, I felt Cove’s posture stiffen slightly, though a small, incredibly cute smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He wanted a family. He had told me that before. But the thought of bringing a child into a marriage built entirely on quicksand made me feel physically sick.

Before the silence could stretch too long and raise suspicions, I forced a perfect, compliant smile onto my face. I squeezed Cove’s hand, looking directly at his mother. And I replied, "Mom, me and my husband are working on it."

"Oh, wonderful!" Mrs. Anna gasped, clapping her hands together in delight, while Sophie offered a knowing, playful wink from the adjacent armchair.

I kept my smile fixed in place, but internally, I was dying. I risked a glance across the room at the uninvited guest. Stacy’s polite smile hadn't dropped, but her piercing blue eyes had narrowed into tiny, icy slits. The mention of a grandchild—of a permanent, unbreakable bond of blood between me and the billionaire tech titan—had clearly struck a nerve. She didn't just want the luxury back; she wanted the man.

A few heavy minutes of small talk followed, the tension in the room vibrating at a pitch only I seemed to feel. Later, I heard Stacy say, "Please excuse me. The dinner was absolutely lovely, but I need to step out for a moment to take an urgent phone call."

She stood up gracefully, smoothing down her designer dress, and glided toward the grand French doors that led out into the sprawling, moonlit gardens of the Harrison estate.

My mind raced. This was my only chance. I couldn't sit here pretending everything was fine while the woman holding my execution order wandered around my husband's family home. I waited for about sixty seconds, pretending to adjust my evening clutch, before I turned to Cove. "Babe, I need to use the restroom. Please excuse me," I murmured softly.

He kissed my cheek tenderly. "Don't be long, babe," he whispered.

I rose from the sofa, my legs feeling like lead. I walked out of the sitting room, but instead of heading toward the hallway restroom, I made a sharp turn toward the French doors. I stepped outside, the cool night air hitting my face and instantly chilling the sweat that had gathered on my skin. The garden was dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of stone lanterns lining the winding marble pathways.

I hurried down the path, my heels clicking sharply against the stone, until I spotted her silhouette standing near a marble fountain. She was leaning against the stone edge, staring up at the massive mansion with a look of pure, unadulterated greed.

When I reached where she stood, the fear that had been paralyzing me all evening instantly transformed into a burst of desperate, defensive anger.

"Stacy!" I hissed, my voice a harsh whisper as I stepped into the light of the lantern. "What are you doing? What happened? Why are you befriending my husband?!"

Stacy didn't flinch. She didn't look startled at all. Instead, she slowly turned her head, looking at me as if I were a stray dog that had accidentally wandered onto her expensive lawn. She let out a soft, mocking laugh that made my blood run entirely cold.

And she replied, "My namesake, do I know you? What are you talking about?"

"Stop playing games with me!" I stepped closer, my hands clenching into tight fists at my sides. "You wept at my feet, Stacy! You begged me to take your place because you were terrified of this arranged marriage! You wanted to run away to Paris with your boyfriend! I ruined my life, I lied to my father, and I risked everything to save you from this. And now you secretly come back and slide into my husband's company? Into his family?!"

Stacy’s mocking expression instantly vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating mask of aristocratic privilege. The girl who had been my best friend was completely gone. She moved closer to me, her tall frame towering over me, her expensive perfume suffocating my senses. She leaned in so close her breath brushed against my ear, her voice dropping into a venomous, triumphant purr.

"That was two months ago, Katrina," she whispered, using my real name like a weapon, reminding me instantly of how fragile my safety truly was. "Two months ago, I thought Cove Harrison was just another boring, stuffy businessman my parents wanted to chain me to. I didn't know he was a brilliant, devastatingly handsome billionaire who treats his wife like a goddess. I saw the headlines, Katrina. I saw the jewelry, the mansion, the way he looks at you in the papers. You're living *my* life."

"You threw this life away!" I countered, tears of frustration and betrayal stinging the corners of my eyes. "You didn't want him!"

"Well, I changed my mind," Stacy sneered, tilting her chin up as she looked down at me with absolute contempt. She took another step forward, crowding into my personal space, her eyes flashing with dangerous determination. "Your husband is actually my spec, Katrina. He's exactly the kind of man I want.