He Thought I Was Poor,But I Am a Billionaire

Mabel Sanchez walked out of City Hall with the ink barely dry on her marriage certificate, and she still couldn't quite believe she'd actually gone through with it. Married on a whim. And not to Jayden Gibson, the man who'd stood beside her for seven years, but to the one her family had picked out for her, a man she'd known less than a week. Herman Nash. The guy who ran the entire Nash Corporation. "Our future home is all set—Number 11 at The Heritage Estates," Herman said, standing there with that chiseled face, his tall build and broad shoulders clearly outlined by the tailored suit that hugged every inch of his frame. He handed over a set of car keys along with a black Centurion card, saying, "I got you something to drive while you wrap things up in Millbrook. The card has no PIN. Use it for anything you need. Once you've taken care of whatever you have to do here, I'll come pick you up on the twenty-fifth to bring you back to Hale, and then, on the thirtieth, we'll fly out to Brent for our wedding." She looked at the keys and the card resting in his open palm, and she opened her mouth to turn him down politely—something along the lines of thank you, but really, she couldn't possibly—except he cut her off before she could even get a full sentence out, "We're already married, Mabel. I'm your husband now, so there's no point in holding back or being shy around me. I'll head back and take care of all the wedding arrangements while you use these last couple of weeks to sort out whatever's still lingering between you and the other guy in Millbrook." At those words, Mabel reached out and took the keys and the card from his hand, nodding firmly as she said, "I will. I'll be waiting for you on the twenty-fifth." Herman gave a short hum of acknowledgment, then turned and strode over to the Maybach that sat parked at the curb. Once the car had pulled away and disappeared from view, Mabel walked over to the other side of the street where the Bugatti Type87 was waiting. Because she hadn't done much driving over the years and was afraid of scraping or damaging the car, she drove it straight to a dealership, and only after that did she take a taxi back to the house she shared with Jayden, Number 10 at the Sandalwood Estate. She'd barely walked through the door when Jayden showed up, still in his white pilot's uniform and dragging his roll-aboard suitcase behind him. His face was sharply sculpted, almost flawless, save for a tiny mole at the corner of his eye—which, according to old superstitions, was a sure sign of a cold and unfaithful nature. Glancing at the antique grandfather clock in the corner and noticing it was just past three in the afternoon, Mabel asked him in surprise, "Why are you back so early today?" He never used to walk in before ten at night. Jayden casually tossed his suitcase aside and replied, "A friend of mine is coming in from overseas, so I'll be heading out to the airport later to pick them up." "What friend is that?" Mabel asked without really thinking, but she regretted it the second the question slipped out, because Jayden had never been the type to appreciate her poking around in his private affairs. She was just a travel consultant, which was really nothing more than a glorified tour guide when you got down to it, while he wasn't only a captain at NovaSky Airlines but also the heir to the whole operation, and with that kind of chasm between their stations, they'd never quite added up, which was probably exactly why they'd kept their relationship a secret for seven years, never once letting the world in on what they were to each other. Sure enough, Jayden's forehead creased, and his voice took on an edge of irritation as he said, "Just a regular friend. Someone you wouldn't know anyway." Mabel, taking the hint, decided to leave it there and not press any further—especially since she'd gone and gotten herself married, and it wouldn't exactly be appropriate for her to keep digging into some other man's personal life. Jayden casually set his laptop down on the table and headed into the bathroom for a shower, but he'd barely been in there more than a few minutes when the laptop started going off with message alerts one after another, and when Mabel flipped it open, she saw that his w******p was still signed in, with new messages piling up on the screen. A woman's profile picture, saved under the name "Forgotten," kept popping up on Jayden's laptop screen with a barrage of messages. Forgotten: Jayden, I've regretted it so much ever since we split seven years ago, and I know it's entirely my fault for not valuing you the way I should have back then. During our final year together, when we were seniors and juggling internships, you were so swamped with work that we hardly ever had time for each other, and there was this other guy who was incredibly kind to me, who made me feel like I was experiencing that excitement of new love all over again, so I ended up getting together with him. Forgotten: But the truth is, I never had any real feelings for him. My heart always belonged to you, and to be completely honest, I only did it to make you jealous. I never imagined you'd just walk away and break up with me that abruptly. We only lasted about a month before I broke it off. I've been too afraid to come back to Millbrook all these years because I was so scared you wouldn't even agree to see me, that you'd hold a grudge against me, that you'd forgotten everything we'd shared, and worst of all, I was terrified of losing you forever. Forgotten: I've heard through the grapevine that you've been with quite a few other women since we ended, and they all shared certain qualities that made me think of myself, which tells me you've never truly moved on from what we had. So if you'd be willing, when I return this time, I hope we can both put everything behind us, get to know each other again, and give each other a completely fresh start. The messages just kept on coming, and Mabel sat there silently, reading every single one without a word. The next thing Mabel saw on the laptop was a reply Jayden had typed out from his phone while he was still in the shower, sent to "Forgotten". Jayden: Riley, you've gone on and on with all this explaining, but I've only got one question for you. Do you still love me? It turned out that the woman he'd labeled "Forgotten" was none other than Riley Cruz, his very first girlfriend from years ago. Riley replied almost before he'd even finished typing. Riley: Yes. Jayden's response came just as quickly. Jayden: I'll pick you up at Riverview Airport at seven tonight. And after that, Riley didn't send another word. Mabel quietly placed the laptop back on the table exactly where she'd found it and went about her business as though she'd never laid eyes on any of it. At that moment, Jayden came down the stairs, having traded his uniform for a simple Loro Piana coat, and told her, "I'm heading out." She looked up at him and asked, "Are you coming home tonight?" He stopped in his tracks, letting a long, weighted silence hang between them before finally replying, "It's been forever since I last caught up with this friend. I probably won't be back until tomorrow."