The Double Life of My Billionaire Husband – Episode 14
The elevator carried Natalie downward while Serena’s verdict followed her like a stain. She stared at the changing floor numbers and refused to cry. Her reflection in the mirrored wall looked composed from a distance, but the fingers gripping her portfolio had gone white. The interview had never been about her qualifications; Serena had summoned her for the pleasure of proving that old hierarchies could survive graduation. Natalie hated that knowing this did not make the rejection hurt less.
When the doors opened, Sarah was waiting near the lobby windows. One look at Natalie’s face erased her hopeful smile. “That fast?” she asked. Natalie clutched the portfolio to her chest and nodded.
“She didn’t even review my work.” Natalie tried to keep the account factual, but humiliation made her voice thin. “She asked about Sebastian, mocked my retail experience, and decided I wasn’t qualified before I finished answering.”
Sarah’s expression hardened. “That woman was never going to give you a fair chance.” She had known Serena in college too, though never well enough to mistake her polished manners for kindness. “She arranged the interview just to humiliate you.”
“I know.” Saying it aloud made the failure feel both less personal and more infuriating. Natalie had prepared honestly for an opportunity that had never existed. She had spent the previous night rehearsing examples, researching the company, and imagining how her first paycheck might stabilize the hospital account. Serena had reduced all of that effort to a private joke before Natalie entered the room.
“I’m so sorry,” Sarah said. “I shouldn’t have connected you with Kyle without checking who would interview you.” Natalie shook her head immediately. Sarah had acted from generosity, unlike nearly everyone else currently shaping her life.
“Don’t apologize. You were trying to help me find work faster.” Natalie managed a tired smile. “I have other applications. One of them has to lead somewhere.”
Sarah guided her toward a quiet seating area away from the reception desk. Around them, employees crossed the lobby with badges swinging from their necks and coffee in their hands, unaware of how desperately Natalie wanted the ordinariness of their mornings. “I have contacts at a few more companies. I’ll call them today.” The offer warmed Natalie, though the urgency beneath it reminded her why rejection was so dangerous. Every day without income allowed interest and medical fees to grow.
“How are things with your new husband?” Sarah asked carefully. Gossip had already turned Sebastian into a public warning, and she wanted the truth from Natalie rather than rumors.
Natalie pictured breakfast, expensive shoes, and a dinner that had felt dangerously close to a date. She remembered Sebastian sleeping on a couch too short for him, then defending her in the boutique as though her dignity were something he had sworn to protect. “He’s actually really nice,” she admitted. The answer surprised her with its certainty. Their marriage had begun as coercion, yet Sebastian was the only person involved who had never used that coercion against her.
Sarah’s eyebrows rose. “The reckless Klein outcast who just left jail?” “He’s not what people say,” Natalie replied. Defending him came instinctively now, much as it had before she ever saw his face.
“But?” Sarah heard the unfinished worry. Natalie lowered her gaze to the portfolio. Her marriage might be kinder than expected, but kindness could not keep a dialysis appointment.
“My father still hasn’t given me the money he promised.” The words tasted bitter. “Mom’s bills are overdue, and I’m already drowning in debt.”
Sarah leaned forward. “He made you marry Sebastian and still didn’t pay?” Anger sharpened every word. Natalie glanced toward nearby employees and asked her to lower her voice.
“No one can know why I got married.” Most of all, her mother could never discover that Natalie had exchanged her future for treatment. Guilt would make her refuse the care they had fought to preserve.
“Does your mom still think this was your choice?” Sarah asked. Natalie nodded. “I can’t tell her. She would panic, blame herself, and probably try to stop dialysis.”
For a moment, Sarah said nothing. She knew Natalie’s mother well enough to understand the fear beneath the secrecy: the stubborn apologies, the insistence that treatment cost too much, the way illness had made a loving woman feel guilty for remaining alive. The lobby’s marble surfaces reflected people moving toward secure jobs and ordinary mornings, lives untouched by bargains at hospital bedsides. Sarah wished she could lend Natalie more than money—certainty, time, or a family that kept its promises.
“You shouldn’t be carrying this alone,” she said at last. Natalie almost told her that she was married now, that Sebastian had offered partnership. Yet admitting the truth to him would expose the Quinns and explain why she had appeared at his altar.
Her phone displayed another hospital reminder. The overdue balance glowed against the screen, indifferent to dignity, failed interviews, and family promises. Beneath the total sat a deadline for confirming the next treatment, close enough that waiting for George to develop a conscience was no longer an option. Natalie silenced the notification before Sarah could see the full amount.
“I don’t need sympathy,” she said, forcing herself upright. “I need cash, and I need it fast.” Sarah studied her with growing concern, unaware that Natalie had already begun thinking about the most valuable thing she owned—the wedding gift Sebastian had placed on her feet.
