~6~

MY HUSBAND IS MARRIED?

XIMENA.

How did I really feel now that I was in the mansion of a cold, cocky billionaire who married me just because he needed an heir to secure his inheritance?

Honestly, I didn’t even know. There was this strange heaviness sitting in my chest, a dull ache that refused to go away. Every time I remembered that my marriage to Jason Hansen was nothing more than a contract—something built on convenience, not love—I felt that pang again, sharp and hollow.

Still, I couldn’t blame anyone for this. I had signed up for it. I had agreed to all of this in the first place.

Maybe Mia was right— I’d signed my common sense away just because of my quest for revenge. I’d thrown myself into this mess, giving myself to a man who didn’t even want me… all because of one person—Dean. My ex. My heartbreak. My biggest mistake. And he was Jason’s brother. The irony of it all still burned.

I had wanted to make Dean jealous. Not just jealous but also remorseful. I wanted him to regret every cruel thing he’d said to me, every moment he’d made me feel worthless. I wanted him to feel that same sting he’d left in my chest when he shattered my heart and embarrassed me in front of the whole world. I wanted him to pay for all the pains he'd caused me.

But now, I wasn’t so sure anymore. What if my hunger for revenge had led me to make an even bigger mistake? Or was it fate’s way of giving me power?

Because whether I liked it or not, I was now carrying Jason’s child—his heir. I was his wife. I was no longer the girl who cried herself to sleep over Dean. I was the woman with White Horse attached to her name, living in a mansion that smelled of luxury and sophistication.

It was a life I never imagined for myself—although I knew I would one day end up in a mansion. One twist after another, and all roads somehow led back to Dean. Maybe I should be grateful. Maybe.

Still, the old me—impulsive me—wasn’t dead yet even though I tried so much to kill it. Before I could stop myself, I picked up my phone, opened I*******m, and decided to view Dean's posts.

There he was.

Dean, smiling. Dean, with Camille wrapped around him like she owned the world. They looked perfect together. They looked happy, glowing, like they had everything in the world. As if the world belonged to them and they controlled everyone living in it.

My stomach twisted as I scrolled through their posts. It felt like they were teasing me, deliberately trying to get under my skin.

Worse, the comments stung. People laughed at me, mocked me. And Dean and Camille had the audacity to like those comments and even reply to them.

It was as if they were still humiliating me, even from behind their screens.

I hated it.

I hated that he could move on so easily while I was still trying to glue my heart back together. I hated that after everything, he was living his best life—with her.

But then again, why was I even whining?

I was no longer the woman he threw away. I was now a billionaire’s wife. I had Jason, even if it was just on paper. I had wealth, power, and a baby growing inside me—his baby. The heir that tied me to the Hansen name forever.

Soon, the world would know. Soon, everyone would see that I had won.

A soft chuckle escaped my lips. It wasn’t one of joy. It was one of satisfaction. The kind that came when the table had finally turned. Nothing, absolutely nothing, felt better than making the people who hurt you regret it.

Maybe it was time to stop checking Dean and the shit he posted. Maybe it was time to stop letting his posts get under my skin. I was above him now. I was above them all, not the struggling model I once was.

They had mocked me. But I had the last laugh.

And I swore to myself that when the time came, I would make sure Dean paid for everything he did to me. For the heartbreak he'd made me go through, and for the shame he'd made me feel.

I jerked up when I heard a door open and Jason rushed down frantically. Well, whatever. It was his house, and he could do whatever he wanted. But something about the way he rushed down felt off.

I stood up from the bed and walked to the door, tiptoeing, even though no one would literally hear my footsteps. And then, I heard Jason speak, but in a hushed tone. I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Maybe he was making one of those business calls or something. Billionaires had secrets, you know.

I turned to go back to my bed when I heard a female voice, and froze for a second before realizing maybe it could be one of his business partners. But why would they be having a meeting at this time of the night?

My curiosity led me on, and I pressed my ear to the door, hoping to pick their conversation.

“You could have told me you were coming, Isabella,” I heard Jason say.

“I didn't need to tell you I was coming, did I?” The woman retorted, but her voice wasn't hushed. For some reason, Jason was the only one speaking in a low tone. Why?

First off, he knew I was here, so whatever they were discussing was clearly private — or maybe that’s just how Jason wanted to keep it. Oh well, what was it that Jason didn’t want me to know?

Maybe it was strictly business, and he didn’t want me getting tangled up in it for reasons best known to him.

God, I was dying of curiosity. I wanted to know everything, even when it had nothing to do with me. And that was the problem—I needed to mind my business. I just couldn’t understand why it mattered so much to him that the woman informed him before coming.

“Look, Jason, I don’t get why you’re acting up. I told you something came up, and you didn’t even care to ask what happened. Instead, you’re mad because I didn’t tell you I was coming? It feels like you don’t care about me anymore. You didn’t even ask how I’m doing.”

Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t ask what happened or how you’re doing. But you know how focused I am on business, and I just don’t need—”

“To see me?” She cut him off. “You know, sometimes I feel like you don’t care about me.”

I furrowed my brows, trying to process what was going on. Why did it sound like something I should care about? Like this woman was closer to Jason than I thought?

“You don't understand, Isabella.”

“Oh yeah I don't. I don't understand anything.”

“No, that's not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?”

Jason started talking again, but his voice had dropped lower than before, and I could barely hear him now. My heart thumped as I pressed my ear harder against the door, but I still couldn’t make out a thing.

Then an idea popped into my head. I decided to open the door as quietly as I could. Thankfully, this house was built for luxury—no creaking doors or poorly oiled hinges to give me away.

“Thank God,” I muttered as I tiptoed out of the room. I closed the door as gently as possible, squeezing my eyes shut, scared for myself. But the stupid door still made a small noise as it clicked shut.

“Fuck!” I hissed under my breath.

It seemed like they’d heard the sound, because the house suddenly went quiet.

“What’s that, Jason?” the woman asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

“Nothing,” Jason replied. “It’s nothing.”

“But I heard something.”

“Yeah, I heard it too. It’s probably one of my books falling off the shelf.”

“I didn’t know you read, Jason.”

Me too. I wouldn’t believe someone like Jason would hold something as fragile as a book.

“Well, I do.”

“Sure, you do,” the woman, Isabella, muttered. “Why do I feel like I don't know you anymore, Jason.”

“What do you mean?” His voice was laced with concern.

I tiptoed downstairs, taking one calculated step at a time. Look what pop nosing in a business that wasn't mine had caused me.

“You've changed so much. You're not the Jason I used to know.”

Hmm. What did she mean by that— ‘You’re not the Jason I used to know’? This conversation—whatever it was—made me start to doubt if what I thought was happening was exactly what it seemed.

Jason heaved a sigh, his voice heavy. “Don't start, Isabella. You always say that every time we have a disagreement.”

“And that's because it's true!” She snapped. “You've become secretive. You don't care to tell me anything. It's like you're shutting me out and I don't even know why.”

Finally I was at the foot of the stairs after long seconds of tiptoeing, careful not to make a sound. Thankfully, Jason was backing me, and the woman— red haired and quite tall— was completely focused on Jason. I crouched under the stairway nook, slowly, pressing myself against the wall as I could.

“You know, you shouldn't have come here without telling me. Something might have happened… and I told you before— things are complicated.”

“Complicated?” Isabella echoed, her tone laced with disbelief. “I can't believe you right now, Jason. You think I came here for fun? You think I wanted to leave everything behind and fly here just to argue with you?”

“Fine. Tell me everything. What happened?”

“One of your men, Jason. One of your own men tried to hurt me. He tried to force himself on me, and when I fought him off, he told me something—something I didn’t want to believe he would ever have said.”

Jason’s tone shifted immediately, deeper and darker. “What did he say?”

“Jason, these men— they aren't trustworthy. They're planning to take you down. And you know what they said, huh? They said if they couldn’t get to you, they’d start with me. The only one trustworthy is Axel.”

Wow, everything was getting interesting, but yet I still felt tense. The atmosphere had shifted and everything seemed to turn dark. “What?” His voice thundered. “Who the hell is behind this?”

“Maxwell!” Isabella cried. “And I think…. I don't think he's working alone. I barely escaped, you know. That’s why I came here, Jason. I didn’t know where else to go. I couldn't stay in the mansion with murderers hanging around.”

Jason stood rigid, his fists clenched, while Isabella trembled before him.

So, this was what he didn’t want me to know.

Jason wasn’t just a cold billionaire who felt like the world was wrapped around his fingers. He was dangerous. The kind of man people feared.

And now, he was angry—angry enough to make even my blood run cold from my hiding spot.

“I’ll handle this,” Jason said finally, his voice low and controlled, but I could hear the anger in his tone. “No one touches what’s mine and gets away with it.”

Mine? He was possessive.

I swallowed hard, suddenly realizing that I didn’t fully know who Jason Hansen really was.And maybe I didn’t want to. I'd just met him and agreed to marry him because I was having his child, and now, here I was.

Still, I wanted to know who Isabella really was to him. She wasn’t just a business partner, no. The way she looked at him, the way she spoke to him—it felt too personal. Way too personal.

Jason ran his fingers through his hair and heaved a sigh. “You should rest. I’ll get someone to make arrangements for you tomorrow morning. We’ll talk about this when things settle, alright? I’ll call my Axel—something needs to be done. Those fuckers think they can take my money? They want to bring me down? I’ll give them what they want. But no one takes me down.”

For some reason, my heart gave a thump, and goosebumps prickled my skin as I heard what Jason said. Whoever these guys were, and whatever they’d done, they were definitely going to get screwed.

I hadn't noticed how long I was hiding and eavesdropping, but my body began to ache so bad. God, why didn't I just mind my business and stay in my fucking room?

I tried to adjust myself, but Isabella’s gaze suddenly flicked toward the staircase and our eyes met. Shit! She'd seen me. What the hell was I going to do now? What would I tell Jason? That I was shamelessly eavesdropping on his private conversation that he hadn't invited me to listen to? Damn it.

“Jason,” she called, her tone sharp, brows furrowed, disbelief written all over her face. “Who the hell is that?”

My blood ran cold. I stepped out of the nook, cursing under my breath as I tried to straighten my aching body. Why the hell couldn’t I just mind my own business? Now here I was—embarrassed.

Jason turned around, surprise written all over his face. The moment his eyes rested on me, I wished the ground had opened up to swallow me.

“Hey,” I said with a sheepish smile, my voice an octave too high. The atmosphere was way too awkward—my legs began to feel wobbly.

Isabella stepped forward, her face twisted with disgust. “Jason, who the hell is this gold digger you let in your house, and what the hell is she doing here?”

I stared at the woman, unable to believe the word she had just called me—gold digger. I thought she was friendly, or at least unproblematic. But calling me a gold digger? Oh damn, she'd crossed the line.

I couldn't believe it. Me? Ximena Branson, a gold digger?

Anger burned hot in me. “Well, who are you?” I shot back, infuriated.

If she thought she could insult me and walk away, she was wrong. I’d rather answer her question with a question. Who the hell was she to speak to me like that? Even if she was one of those multi billionaires, she had no right to call me a gold digger.

“Well, I'm Jason's wife. Now you're going to answer me—who are you?”