The Billionaire's Pretend Wife (Isabella)
Chapter 25 Twenty Five

Isabelle blanched at his words. Get this out of the way? If somebody heard him, they would think he was talking about something like doing the dishes.

"I cannot have my wife do something as dangerous as participate in a drug trial," he said. "Out there, everybody knows you are my wife. So if I have to act like a gangster to stop you from doing something stupid, I will."

A gangster? What did he mean?

His hand shot out again towards the zip of her dress. She held her hands in front of herself to stop his advance. "Okay, fine! I won't take part in the trial." Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

His eyes dug into hers. "Are you only saying that so I'll let you go?"

Well, yes, she didn't like how he was acting, and she was going to say anything to get him to back off. "You're right, it was not the best idea," she told him. "I'll stop."

"If you're lying, I'll find out," he warned her.

Isabelle glared at him silently but said nothing. She exhaled in big relief when he stepped back and buttoned up his shirt again.

What a day!

***

On Monday, Isabelle left for work early, avoiding contact with Jacob. He had been busy on Sunday and hadn't spent much time in the house, which she was glad for. Things were still awkward after what had transpired on Saturday night, and she wasn't any happier about being back to square zero in her efforts to earn some extra money.

After going to bed that night, she had put some thought into the drug trial thing and realised that maybe Jacob was right. Maybe she was taking too much risk for too little. Two thousand dollars was a good payment, but it wasn't nearly enough to cover Ruth's treatment.

To earn enough money for Ruth, she would have to take part in many drug trials. That only increased her chances of suffering dangerous side effects. Also, if Ruth found out that this was how she had earned the money, she might not accept it.

When she got to work, she went through her emails first. There was one that had been sent that morning, and she opened it right away. It was an order from a client who wanted her to design an emerald necklace for him. Getting an order was enough to lift her spirit, but when she saw the amount he was offering for the design, her excitement skyrocketed.

He was offering to pay fifty thousand dollars for the order! That was twenty-five times more than she would have earned with the drug trial!

She did a celebratory dance in her chair, and it took a lot of restraint to not get up and dance around the office in happiness. She couldn't believe it. Fifty dollars was a hefty sum to pay for the design, something she never could have expected to earn at her level.

Besides, she was only a new employee at the company, so why the client had chosen her to design the necklace was beyond her. But it didn't matter. She was determined to do the best job she had ever done to make it worth his while and money.

For the rest of the week, Isabelle worked on crafting the design to the client's preferences. Even when she got home from work, her mind remained in work-mode, shifting through ideas. Her frustration about looking for money was gone. Now, she was only excited about the necklace.

Finally, on Friday, after making what felt like a hundred changes to the design, Isabelle sent the final draft to the client. She kept her fingers crossed, hoping he would like it. Because if he didn't, all her hard work would be in vain.

While she had been excited throughout the week, on Friday night, she found that she couldn't sleep because of the nerves. There were times when she was convinced that she hadn't done a good job and the client would reject the design, which meant no payment for her.

She was eventually able to fall asleep in the wee hours of the night. When she woke up on Saturday morning, she went to have a shower and put on some comfy clothes afterwards. Before heading to the kitchen to have breakfast, she took her phone and sat down on the bed.

A part of her wanted to put off looking at her emails as it only made her anxious, but another part couldn't resist the urge to check whether the client had given any feedback.

Her heart jolted in her chest when she saw that she had a new email from him. Fingers trembling, she clicked on the message.

'Hello Ms Cruz, I loved the design, and would like to work with you on new ones in the long term. I've already sent the full payment to your account as agreed. Thank you for a good job, and let's work together in the future.'

She couldn't believe what she was seeing, but it all hit home when she checked her account and found out that she had indeed received fifty thousand dollars.

Calming herself down-which was hard-she replied to him, letting him know that she was happy he loved it, and that she would be more than happy to draft more designs for him. He replied almost immediately letting her know that he would seek her out whenever he needed other designs.

Not only had she earned fifty thousand dollars within a week, but she had also bagged a well-paying client who would give her more jobs. It was surreal.

With the deal done, Isabelle got to her feet on the bed and jumped, finally letting her joy out. "Yes, yes, yes!" she yelled, feeling like going outside and running in the street while screaming in happiness. As she continued whooping in joy, her door opened and Jacob appeared, a frown on his face. "What is-"

She didn't let him finish his sentence as she jumped out of the bed and threw herself at him, hugging him happily. He barely managed to spread his arms in time to catch her safely. "I made money! Lots of it!" She pulled back so that she could look into his face. "You were right, when you said I would make money soon." She laughed gaily. "Are you a fortune teller?"

Jacob gazed down at her, his expression morphing from perplexed to amused. She was about to tell him more when she suddenly realised what she had done. Their bodies were pressed together in an intimate position. Her face flushing, she quickly let go of him and took a step back.

"Sorry," she said, feeling like hiding her face in mortification. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I was just so happy...I didn't mean to do that."

As she explained herself, Jacob watched her, his expression tender. He didn't look offended at all, so she supposed it was all good.

"I heard you screaming," Jacob told her, "so I came to check."

Isabelle let out an awkward laugh. "Yeah, uh, I got too excited, sorry."

"Don't apologise," he told her. "It's good to see you happy like this."

As Isabelle spewed her apologies and tried to calm down, Jacob's mind was stuck in the past-a minute ago. He never would have expected her to jump into his arms the way she did, but when she did, his body sure paid attention.

He could still sense the warmth of her body, and the scent of her hair lingered in his nose. He wanted more of that, but unfortunately, that moment was gone.

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