The Double Life of My Billionaire Husband – Episode 07
The bridal boutique looked even more expensive in daylight. Natalie paused outside its glass doors with the garment bag draped over one arm and the shoe box tucked carefully against her ribs. Returning everything should have been simple, yet the polished displays and discreet gold lettering made her conscious of every dollar she did not have. She reminded herself that the dress had survived the ceremony without a stain and that the shoes had barely touched the chapel floor.
Inside, crystal lights scattered across walls lined with white satin and lace. The sales clerk glanced up from the counter, recognized the inexpensive rental package, and offered none of the warmth reserved for brides shopping for custom gowns. Natalie placed the garment bag down gently. “Good morning. I’m here to return the things I rented.”
The clerk inspected the dress first, running practiced fingers along the hem and zipper. Finding nothing worth objecting to, she turned to the shoes. Her expression sharpened with opportunity as she angled one beneath the light. “The satin on these is scratched,” she announced.
Natalie leaned closer. A faint mark crossed the side of one shoe, so small she would never have noticed it without the clerk pointing it out. “They were rentals,” she said. “Of course there’s going to be normal wear and tear.” She had walked from the dressing room to the altar, then directly to the car. The shoes had spent most of the wedding hidden beneath her skirt.
“This isn’t normal wear.” The clerk set the shoe down as though it had been ruined beyond use. “They’re designer, and you’ll have to pay a restoration fee.” Her detached tone suggested the decision had already been entered into a system Natalie could not challenge.
Natalie’s fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. “How much?” She had come prepared for a modest cleaning charge if necessary, but she could not afford another large bill. George still had not shown her proof that the promised hospital payment had been made.
“Five hundred dollars.” The number landed with absurd force. Natalie stared at the almost invisible scratch, then back at the clerk. Five hundred dollars represented groceries, transportation, and part of a medical payment—not a mark on a shoe someone else had already worn.
“Five hundred?” she repeated. “I might as well buy a new pair.” The clerk’s mouth curved in a condescending smile. “Sure. Buy them, then. The retail price is two thousand dollars. Can you afford that?”
Heat climbed Natalie’s neck. Other customers had begun to listen, their eyes moving between her plain clothes and the rental box. The clerk lowered her voice only enough to make the next insult feel personal. “Don’t get married if you have no money.”
Natalie forced herself not to step back. Poverty was not a moral failure, no matter how often Lauren and Cassie treated it as one. “I didn’t damage these beyond ordinary use,” she said. “Please show me the rental policy that defines this as five hundred dollars’ worth of restoration.”
The clerk blinked, apparently surprised that the timid-looking woman had asked for documentation. “Our specialist determines the fee.” She reached for the box as though the discussion were finished. “You can pay now, or we can charge the card on file.”
The card belonged to Sarah, the friend who had helped Natalie arrange the rentals at the last minute. Letting the boutique charge her would turn kindness into debt. Natalie pulled the box back. “Don’t touch her card. I’ll handle it.”
From outside the window, Sebastian watched the exchange with a stillness Daniel would have recognized as dangerous. He had followed Natalie expecting to learn more about her family. Instead, he found a sales clerk using a minor mark to humiliate her while she tried to protect whoever had guaranteed the rental.
He could have ended the matter with a phone call. The boutique’s parent company did business with one of his holdings, and a quiet word from Daniel would have brought the manager running. But that solution belonged to Bash Myers, not to the unemployed outcast Natalie believed she had married.
Sebastian entered without announcing himself. The bell above the door chimed, and the clerk immediately reshaped her expression into something more welcoming. His suit from the previous day was gone, but confidence clung to him more convincingly than any label.
Natalie turned at the sound and froze. “Sebastian? What are you doing here?” He ignored the question for the moment, his gaze moving from her distressed face to the worn rental shoes on the counter.
“Those are too ugly for my wife,” he said. The clerk’s eyebrows rose, while Natalie’s embarrassment deepened into confusion. Sebastian nodded toward a display pedestal near the window where a pair of black pumps stood beneath their own spotlight.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you try those?” he asked. Natalie followed his gesture and immediately recognized the red soles. Even without seeing the price, she knew they belonged to a world far removed from the little house and the couch where he had slept.
The clerk recovered first. “Those are limited edition,” she said, suddenly eager. “They’re seven thousand dollars.” She expected that number to expose Sebastian’s performance and send both of them back to arguing over the restoration charge.
Sebastian did not even glance at the price tag. His eyes remained on Natalie as if the decision concerned nothing more than her comfort. “We’ll take them.” The boutique fell silent, and Natalie stared at her supposed penniless husband, wondering whether he was bluffing—or whether the first secret of their marriage was about to be revealed at the register.
