The Billionaire's Pretend Wife (Isabella)

So he went for the next best thing-her bed. Walking past her, he threw his body onto her bed, resting his back against the headboard. He lifted his legs onto the mattress and took one pillow in his hands. This way, her sweet fragrance surrounded him.

"Wh...what are you doing?" Isabelle stuttered, turning to regard him. The embarrassment on her face was still evident, her ears red from how hard she was flushing. He enjoyed how flustered she appeared, but he wasn't going to mention it.

"Tell me what happened," he said instead of answering her question. "What was so good that you screamed?"

"I can tell you in the living room," she said, her attention still on the fact that he was still lying on her bed as if he belonged there. Was she the only one who thought he was crossing a boundary? "I'm okay here," he said, cradling her pillow in his arms.

She couldn't exactly physically eject him from the bed, so she gave up and took a seat on her vanity chair. "I got an order from a client on Monday. He wanted me to design a necklace for him for fifty thousand dollars. I worked on it all week and sent it yesterday. He sent me an email a few minutes ago saying he likes the design and paid for it."

Jacob nodded as she narrated to him. When she was done, he said, "That means you don't need to take part in the drug trial, right?"

"Uh, yeah," she replied. "I made a lot more money."

"That's good," he said. "You don't have to endanger yourself now."

Isabelle waited for him to make another remark, but he didn't. He didn't even seem surprised. Was he not impressed by the figure? Fifty thousand dollars was a lot of money. The only thing he seemed concerned about was that she wouldn't have to do the drug trial anymore. Did he really care that much about her?

Either way, she felt happy that he seemed to be genuinely concerned about her. On Saturday night he had been angry when demanding that she quit the trial, and a part of her thought it was because he didn't want to be embarrassed by his wife taking part in such a thing when he wanted others to think he was wealthy.

But now, all he seemed to be concerned about was her wellbeing. Was that why he had made a scene on Saturday night?

***

The next day, Isabelle paid Ruth's pending medical expenses to the last cent. With that paid, Ruth could continue receiving the necessary treatment until she could get a kidney transplant. Isabelle felt relieved that the bill was now out of the way, and felt that Ruth would now be more comfortable, receiving the care she needed and not having to worry about money.

When she went back home, she found that Jacob had just gotten back from a job he had said he had been called in for that morning. She noticed that he was wearing the same coat he had been wearing the previous day-actually, he wore it on most days. After paying Ruth's medical bill, she had some money left over and thought it would be nice to get him some new clothes.

When she asked him to come to the mall with her to buy the clothes, he agreed. He also told her that he knew a good store they could shop at.

An hour later, Isabell stood in front of the store Jacob had brought her to, a look of awe on her face. The store happened to be the renowned luxury clothing store belonging to the Larson Group. She had never shopped there before, and now, she wasn't sure this was the right place for them. The clothes here had to be quite expensive...

She cast a glance at Jacob who was waiting next to her patiently. He had brought her here—had he shopped here before? It wouldn't hurt to look inside, she decided, leading the way inside. Who knew, maybe they could find some discounted outfits.

The couple was welcomed by a shop assistant who led them to a selection of coats. Five minutes into looking through various options, Isabelle quickly realised that everything was indeed too expensive for her to afford. It was a shame, given how good the coats were, and she imagined Jacob would look really dashing in them.

She moved on from the coats to shirts, but the prices didn't get any better. "Can I see that one?" she asked, pointing towards a navy blue shirt. After coming all the way to the shop and spending time looking through clothes, she was determined to find at least one article of clothing for Jacob. They could go shop somewhere more affordable later, but just one piece from the Larson Group store would be good.

"Please make a decision quickly," the shop assistant told her, thrusting the shirt she had requested in her hands. Her tone was unfriendly and her face full of disdain, as if she had better things to do than accompany the two.

Isabelle was about to apologise for taking too long to choose something when two other voices carried to her.

"She has looked through about twenty items already. If she can't afford anything, she should go away and stop wasting our time."

"Of course she can't afford them. Look at them, do they look like they can afford anything in this store?"

The first person laughed. "Maybe they got lost on their way to the second-hand clothes market. They should have looked at the sign outside before bringing their poor selves inside."

"I hate when people with no money come in here and act like they can buy anything."

In the peripheral of her eyes, Isabelle noticed that the two voices belonged to the two shop assistants who stood by in case more help was needed. She was shocked to find that employees at such a popular store were so rude and mannerless.

"So, will you take that one?" the assistant who was accompanying them asked, crossing her arms across her chest and sticking her hip out. She was no longer pretending to be professional, and Isabelle felt her irritation rising.

She looked at Jacob, who hadn't said much besides looking at the clothes she picked out. His jaw looked tense, and she realised that he too must be bothered by the attitude the assistants were showing.

"In the last store I worked, shopping was by appointment only. It made sure that only people who could actually afford the clothes showed up. Here, any beggar from off the street can walk in." The owner of the voice sighed. "I wish they would make it like that here."

"Yeah," her fellow assistant agreed. "A store of this calibre should not be accepting just anyone. They could be thieves for all we know."

"Most likely. Just look at how unkempt they are. Where is the cleaner? She needs to be ready with disinfectant the moment they leave."

"Poor Lisa, having to deal with them so closely. Who knows what germs she'll pick up."

Isabelle looked down at herself, and then at Jacob. They might not be wearing the latest in luxury fashion, but they were decent and hygienic. How hateful were those assistants to talk like that?

She thrust the navy blue shirt back to the assistant who was with them. She had heard enough. It was time to put a stop to it.