The Double Life of My Billionaire Husband – Episode 16
While Natalie hurried home, Sebastian sat across from Daniel in a private office hidden behind the name of B.M. Enterprises. City traffic moved far below the windows, muted by glass thick enough to keep power quiet. Nothing in the public directory connected this executive floor to Sebastian Klein; visitors believed Daniel held final authority here. The deception had protected their work for years, allowing Sebastian to build an empire while his father dismissed him as an unemployable disgrace.
“Jason has agreed to sell his shares,” Daniel reported. He placed the signed documents on the desk. “That leaves Jack and Tony. Once we secure them, your father’s voting bloc won’t be able to stop you.”
Sebastian reviewed the signatures. Years of preparation had narrowed to two men and a few final days. “Keep the purchases separated. My father must believe the buyers are unrelated until the transfer is complete.”
“Of course.” Daniel hesitated before adding, “There’s another matter. Mrs. Klein’s interview ended early.” Sebastian’s pen stopped.
“Was it fair?” The question came out colder than intended. Daniel summarized the incomplete evaluation and Serena’s personal remarks, making it clear that Natalie had never received a genuine chance.
Sebastian wanted Serena dismissed immediately. He could also order a new interview, place Natalie under a different manager, and guarantee her employment before lunch. Power offered him dozens of simple corrections, but each would steal something from Natalie: the knowledge that she had succeeded on her own terms. Each solution also risked revealing a hand he had promised to keep invisible. Now protecting his plan and protecting his wife pointed in different directions.
“Document everything,” he said. “No action yet.” The restraint cost him. “I need to speak to Natalie first.”
At the little house, Natalie opened the closet and removed the shoe box. The boutique’s tissue paper still lay in perfect folds around the pumps, carrying a faint trace of leather and expensive perfume. They were beautiful, impractical, and worth more than anything she had ever owned. Her wedding ring caught the light as she lifted one, reminding her that both gifts belonged to the same strange day and the same man she was beginning to trust.
She touched one red sole and remembered Sebastian insisting that disrespect was not acceptable. He had spent without hesitation, yet the money mattered less than the way he had made the clerk look at Natalie as a person again. Selling the gift felt like rejecting the protection behind it, but her mother’s face rose above the guilt. Natalie could apologize to Sebastian; she could never apologize her mother back to life if treatment stopped.
“It’s only temporary,” Natalie whispered. A pawn loan was not a sale if she repaid it in time. She searched repayment schedules and resale estimates, trying to build a responsible plan from numbers that refused to cooperate. The highest advertised rates looked promising until hidden fees appeared beneath them, but she chose a nearby licensed shop with enough favorable reviews to quiet her doubts. She photographed the shoes and placed the box inside an ordinary tote so no neighbor would see the label.
Across town, Sebastian left the office for another meeting while Daniel remained behind to coordinate the share purchases. Through the lobby windows, Daniel glimpsed a familiar figure passing on the sidewalk.
Natalie’s face had appeared in enough background reports for him to recognize her instantly. Daniel had studied photographs, employment records, and the quiet trail of sacrifices left by her mother’s illness. What caught his attention was the box beneath her arm—the same designer packaging Sebastian had mentioned with uncharacteristic satisfaction. His boss rarely discussed personal purchases, making that brief account of the boutique more revealing than Sebastian probably realized.
“Isn’t that Miss Quinn?” Daniel murmured. He checked the direction she was walking and saw the pawnshop sign farther down the block. Concern replaced curiosity.
He could call Sebastian, but the shareholder meeting had already begun. Interrupting might expose urgency to men searching for leverage. Daniel decided to observe before reporting.
Inside the pawnshop, glass cases held watches, jewelry, and objects surrendered during other people’s emergencies. A guitar leaned behind one counter, while engagement rings glittered beneath harsh fluorescent light, each item suggesting a story its owner had never intended to tell. Natalie felt the weight of countless private defeats as she approached the counter. She reminded herself that borrowing against property was a financial choice, not proof that she had failed.
The pawnbroker glanced at the tote without interest. “What have you got?” Natalie removed the pristine box and placed it between them.
“These have never been worn,” she said. “I need a short-term loan, and I’ll repay it as soon as I find work.” She opened the lid carefully, revealing the limited-edition pumps.
The man’s boredom vanished. He checked the brand stamp, stitching, and soles, then concealed his excitement behind a skeptical frown. “Designer goods lose value the second they leave the store.”
“I have the receipt.” Natalie showed him the purchase record, though Sebastian’s payment details had been obscured. “They cost seven thousand dollars yesterday.”
From outside, Daniel watched the pawnbroker carry the shoes toward a brighter inspection lamp. Natalie stood rigidly at the counter, unaware that her husband’s closest confidant had witnessed the secret she hoped to hide—and that the box was about to reveal how desperate she truly was.
