The Billionaire I Married by Mistake

13. MISTAKE

|Katherine|

The ride to Gavin’s ancestral home was steeped in silence—dense and heavy. Not a single word passed between us. No small talk. No nervous jokes. Just the soft hum of the engine and the occasional turn signal cutting through the stillness like a metronome to our anxiety.

At first, I’d been casual—maybe even careless—about the whole thing. Meeting his parents? Whatever. I had convinced myself it wasn’t a big deal. We weren’t even a real couple, after all. Just partners in a performance neither of us wanted to put on. Why should it matter?

But that confidence crumbled the moment the gates opened.

They were tall, ornate, and intimidating in a way only old money could be. As we drove through into their estate, the car rolled along a gravel path lined with trimmed hedges and lantern-style lights. The mansion came into view at the end of the driveway—massive and elegant, its stone façade glowing faintly under the setting sun. It wasn’t just a house. It was a declaration of legacy.

That’s when it hit me.

This wasn’t just a formality. This was the beginning of something real—at least in their eyes. And like it or not, I was now part of it. A daughter-in-law, even if only by arrangement. The nerves came hard and fast, coiling in my stomach like something alive.

I tilted my head, trying to distract myself with a different thought. Wait… wasn’t Gavin’s father supposed to be sick? Too ill to meet visitors, according to the whispers? But then again… I was no ordinary visitor anymore, was I? I was “family.” That had to count for something. Maybe I was the exception.

The car slowed as we neared the entrance, and I spotted them right away—two figures standing by the grand double doors.

A woman, elegant and poised, was already waiting outside. She looked to be in her late fifties, her features sharp and observant, her posture as straight as a ruler. Not quite elderly, but with the air of someone who had long mastered the art of command without raising her voice.

A few seconds later, a man appeared beside her. He moved slower, more carefully, his expression unreadable. Despite his calm demeanor, there was something undeniably powerful about the way he held himself—like he still ran this house, illness or not.

Behind them, a small entourage of house staff lined the steps, dressed in black and white uniforms, their eyes lowered in quiet readiness.

As the car rolled to a stop, something gripped my chest. My heart stumbled. I forgot how to breathe for a second.

I’m usually good with people. Confident. Charismatic, even. I’ve always been the type who can walk into a room and strike up a conversation with anyone, no matter their status or attitude. It’s one of the things I’ve always taken pride in.

But this? This was different. This wasn’t…socializing. This wasn’t a casual dinner party. This was them. Gavin’s parents. The very people who could see through me in a heartbeat if I wasn’t careful.

I didn’t even realize Gavin had already gotten out of the car until I caught movement in my peripheral vision—his tall frame rounding the front of the vehicle with practiced ease.

Meanwhile, I was still sitting there like a statue. Frozen. My hands resting stiffly in my lap. The seatbelt still snug across my chest, locking me in place like some kind of emotional restraint.

I simply watched as he walked around the car and stopped at my door. It was only then that I realized—I had actually been waiting for him to open the door for me. Just because I was too panicked to move!

Oddly enough, it wasn’t until I saw the woman smiling at us from across the driveway that I realized my earlier panic might’ve worked in our favor.

What I’d thought was a humiliating overreaction—my flustered silence, Gavin’s protective gestures—might’ve actually sold the illusion. From the outside, we probably looked like a couple madly in love, just a bit nervous about meeting the parents. Authentic. Human. Believable.

I slid my phone back into my purse, freshly charged from the ride, and finally stepped out of the car, heels clicking softly against the stone-paved driveway. Gavin’s eyes met mine as he rounded the vehicle to my side. We shared a quiet glance—muted understanding, maybe even silent teamwork.

I leaned in, just slightly, and whispered under my breath, “Thank you.”

He didn’t reply, not with words. Instead, he placed a gentle hand at the small of my back and guided me forward with quiet confidence—leading me straight into the lion’s den. Or rather… toward his parents.

“Mom, Dad,” Gavin said, his tone smooth and composed. “This is my wife, Katherine.”

Wife.

The word still sat awkwardly in my ears, too new, too unreal. But I lifted my chin and followed his lead, eyes shifting to the two figures in front of us.

His mother stood tall, graceful in a way that commanded presence. There was an effortless elegance to her—regal, almost like someone born to be bowed to. But her expression... that changed everything. She smiled warmly, and in an instant, the intimidation melted into something far more welcoming.

Then there was his father. A faint smile curved at the edges of his mouth, but there was no mistaking the authority in his stance. He looked composed, unreadable. Not quite cold, but certainly reserved. And certainly not the frail, sickly man I’d expected based on everything I’d been told.

Which raised a quiet question in my head—one I dared not speak aloud: Why exactly wasn’t he allowed visitors?

I cleared my throat lightly and offered a polite bow of my head. “Good evening, ma’am… sir. I’m Katherine Lopez.”

I tried to smile, but nerves crawled up my spine like cold fingers. My cheeks felt stiff, and I couldn’t tell if I was actually pulling off the polite, put-together version of myself or if I looked like a deer caught in headlights. This was all supposed to be a performance, just part of the script—but God, why was I so nervous?

Then his mother stepped forward and did something I didn’t expect.

She hugged me.

Not stiffly. Not just for show. It was brief, but sincere. Warm.

“Hello, too, Katherine,” she said, her voice soft with genuine fondness. “And don’t call us ma’am or sir. From now on, it’s Mom and Dad, alright?”

I blinked at her. There was something disarming in her eyes—sincerity without pressure, kindness without pretense. It startled a smile out of me, almost against my will.

“I… okay,” I murmured, unsure if I even said it loud enough. But she heard it. She beamed.

Then Gavin’s father spoke.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Katherine,” he said. His voice was deep, steady—neither overly warm nor cold. Just… measured. Observant.

“Nice to meet you, uh, dad,” I replied quickly, slipping into the respectful tone I’d been taught my whole life. My hands were folded in front of me now, tight and still. I didn’t know if I was trying to impress them or trying not to embarrass myself.

“Shall we head inside? Breakfast is ready,” he said gently, turning his gaze toward Gavin as if prompting him too.

Almost instinctively, I followed his line of sight—and found Gavin already watching me. Our eyes met for the briefest moment before he nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s go,” he agreed with a faint smile.

His parents were already walking ahead, their steps quiet but assured as they made their way to the grand front entrance of the mansion. Gavin and I trailed behind, a few steps back, close enough to follow yet far enough that we remained in our own bubble of silence.

We had just reached the base of the porch stairs when I felt a vibration from inside my purse—a soft buzz that I almost ignored. But then, like a jolt, a name flashed through my mind.

Noel.

My hand moved instinctively, slipping into my bag and pulling out my phone. My chest tightened the moment I saw his name glowing on the screen.

“Uh—wait,” I blurted, stopping in my tracks. I turned to Gavin. “I need to take this call.”

He looked at me with a hint of concern, then let his gaze fall to the phone in my hand. Something in my expression must’ve told him it wasn’t just any call. When our eyes met again, his brows furrowed slightly, but he gave a small nod.

“Alright,” he said softly. “Just don’t be long.”

I offered a quick, grateful nod and turned on my heel, heading toward the side garden where the noise would fade and I could speak freely.

But just as I raised the phone to my ear, the call ended. Cut off before I could even say his name.

“Damn it,” I muttered, immediately hitting redial. My thumb hadn’t even left the screen when his name lit up again.

I answered without hesitation. “Noel?” I breathed. “What’s wrong? Is it Grandpa? Did something happen?”

The questions spilled out, one after the other, tumbling from my mouth like I was trying to catch up to something dreadful.

Because Noel never called unless it was urgent. And every time it was about Grandpa… it meant something had gone wrong.

My heartbeat quickened. My breath came shorter.

[“Miss Kat!”]

Noel’s voice burst through the speaker with a jolt of urgency. There was a loud crash in the background—something metallic, sharp, and unsettling. It made me flinch instinctively, a frown already forming between my brows.

“What is it, Noel?” I tried to keep my tone composed, even and measured. “I’m in the middle of something important.”

As soon as I opened my phone earlier, I received multiple messages from him. And when I was about to read it one by one, Noel’s calls started to enter. I hesitated at first, torn between ignoring it and stepping away to answer after an introduction with Gavin’s parents. Though, good thing that they allowed me to answer my call because I fear this might be something important.

A knot of dread had begun to twist low in my stomach. Noel wouldn’t keep calling unless it was serious.

Unless… my throat tightened. Unless it was about Grandpa.

My fingers clenched around the phone. I pressed it closer to my ear.

“You didn’t call because something happened to Grandpa… did you?” My voice softened, laced with anxiety. I shifted my gaze to the garden just beyond the glass doors, trying to calm the spike of panic. The sunlight filtered through the trees, peaceful and warm—but it couldn’t quiet the pounding in my chest.

There was a pause. Then Noel spoke again, this time with a deliberate casualness that sounded painfully forced.

[“Where are you, Miss Kat? Did you change your mind?”]

That threw me.

I straightened my back, confusion prickling through me. What the hell is he talking about?

“What?” I said, my voice sharper now. “Change my mind about what? And I’m asking about grandpa’s welfare”

Silence, and then I heard him draw in a slow, bracing breath—like someone about to deliver bad news they knew would land hard.

[“Nothing had happened to sir Anton, Miss Kat.”] he said which somehow made me heave in relief. [“If you’ve changed your mind at the last minute, I wouldn’t blame you,”] Noel added. And the way someone speaks when they’re trying not to tip a fragile situation over the edge. “[I’ll be the one to explain everything to Mr. Ramirez. It’s fine. Besides… it looks like his son didn’t show up either, so you’re not the only one at fault.”]

I blinked, the words tumbling over me like a wave I hadn’t seen coming.

What?

That didn’t make sense. Not even a little.

“What are you talking about, Noel?” I snapped, irritation tightening my voice. The adrenaline, the nerves, the heat—I didn’t have the patience for what he was saying right now. “Explain to Mr. Ramirez? His son didn’t show up? What the hell are you saying?”

My mind raced, trying to connect dots that weren’t there. Was he talking about the wedding? But that was impossible. I am literally standing here, with Gavin—his son—about to have breakfast his parents. How could Noel say we didn’t show up?

Then his voice came through the line again, this time tinged with confusion of his own.

“You didn’t show up to the wedding, Miss Kat,” he said slowly, as if he couldn’t quite believe it either. “And apparently… Mr. Gavin didn’t make it either.”

I froze in place.

The noise around me—the distant clatter of plates, the faint hum of chatter—faded into a dull, echoing silence. My hand instinctively settled on my hip, grounding myself, as I struggled to make sense of what I’d just heard.

What the hell did he mean, we didn’t show up?

“Noel,” I hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot. My voice dropped to a sharp whisper. “The wedding’s over. It already happened. I’m with Gavin right now—we’re literally on our way to have breakfast with his parents!”

[“What? The wedding is over?!”] Noel’s voice cracked, his shock echoing through the phone. [“B-But, Miss Kat—my witness was at the church! He waited there the whole time. He said… neither you nor Mr. Gavin ever showed up. The priest waited for almost an hour before he finally called it off. He declared the wedding… canceled.”]

He sounded as baffled as I felt.

Everything inside me froze—my blood, my breath, even the thoughts in my head. For a second, I just stood there, rooted to the floor, unable to speak.

Canceled?

I couldn’t even hear the rest of what Noel was saying. His words faded into white noise as my heartbeat thundered in my ears, loud and panicked. My thoughts raced, slamming into each other as I tried to make sense of what he was saying.

No. No, that couldn’t be right.

The wedding… was canceled?

That’s not possible. That’s not possible, because—I was there. I said the vows. I signed the papers. I wore the damn dress. I walked down the aisle.

I got married.

Didn’t I?

My mouth went dry.

Wait.

Wait!

The witness told Noel no one showed up. Not Gavin. Not me. The priest waited, then left. The wedding was called off.

But… if that’s true…

Then who the hell did I marry?

A sick, spiraling feeling twisted in my stomach as the truth began to set in—slow, sharp, undeniable.

Oh God.

Oh God no!

My breath caught in my throat.

I married… someone?

But it wasn’t Gavin.

Fvcking damn it!

I shot upright, panic pulsing through every nerve in my body.

“Noel,” I said quickly, my voice barely holding together. “What’s the name of the church again? The exact address.”

There was a pause, like he sensed something was terribly wrong.

“It’s on McKinley Road,” he said slowly. “In Forbes Park. Right across from the cafe* then he mentioned the name of the cafe. “And it’s close to the old parish just ahead of it.”

I didn’t need to hear the rest.

Everything inside me collapsed like glass shattering under pressure.

No.

I didn’t just go to the wrong church.

I went to the wrong fvcking wedding!

And worse—I heard footsteps…and when I turned around, I saw Gavin—no, the stranger, heading toward me.

Fvck. I married this man by mistake.