The Billionaire I Married by Mistake

18. WAIT

|Katherine|

“Do you really have to leave already? Stay for just one more day, Javier!” Tita Rebecca’s voice rang out with a familiar mix of warmth and stubbornness as she reached out to him, her tone tugging at the edges of my resolve.

I glanced sideways at Javier, half-expecting him to cave—or maybe hoping he would. Because if his mother pleaded just a little harder, I wasn’t sure I could say no either.

But he kept his tone calm, his expression unreadable. “We’ll come back as soon as we settle a few important things, Mom,” he said, his voice steady, like he’d rehearsed this answer a dozen times.

Tita Rebecca wasn’t having it. She rolled her eyes with theatrical flair, clearly unimpressed. The gesture made me blink—surprised not just by her bluntness, but by how genuine it felt. There was something endearing about the way she didn’t bother to hide her disappointment.

“It’s hard to believe that, son,” she said with a sigh, then turned her full attention to me. Her hands reached for mine, warm and soft as she gave them a gentle squeeze. Her eyes were kind, but earnest—pleading in a way that almost made me feel guilty for leaving.

“Make sure to convince him to bring you back here, alright?” she said, her tone laced with hope, as if I could somehow undo the ticking clock of goodbye.

A soft smile curved my lips before I could stop it. I nodded. “Of course, Mom.”

The word slipped out easier than I expected—Mom. I wasn’t sure if I meant it, or if I was just playing the part, but either way, it made her smile.

“And for your wedding gift,” Javier’s father suddenly cut in, his deep voice filled with pride, “we’ve arranged a one-week vacation in the Maldives. End of the month. All taken care of.”

Javier let out a slow, controlled sigh. “Sure, Dad,” he replied with just enough enthusiasm to keep things civil.

We lingered a little longer—exchanging hugs, saying polite goodbyes, accepting last-minute reminders and well-wishes—until finally, finally, we stepped out of the grand house and crossed the estate gates.

Only then did I feel my chest begin to loosen. Like I could finally breathe again.

Because outside those walls, we could stop pretending.

“What are your plans for today?” Javier asked, breaking the silence once we were in the car.

I turned my head to look at him, slightly confused. “I thought we were going to talk?”

He flicked his eyes toward me briefly, then back to the road. “Yeah,” he said. “I just wanted to know if you’ve got anything important after that. In case it runs long.”

I let out a long, exhausted sigh and turned to face the window, watching the city blur past in streaks of light and motion. The silence in the car felt heavier than before. My thoughts drifted to Noel when I ended the call without proper explanation. Well, the moment I finished sorting things out with Javier, I’d call. He deserved to know the truth, all of it.

The rest of the ride passed in silence. Neither of us spoke a word. I half expected him to break the ice, to finally start the conversation we’d been avoiding for too long. But he didn’t.

When we arrived at his penthouse, I followed him inside, hoping—half-believing—that this would be the moment we’d finally sit down and talk like two people trying to make sense of whatever this was.

But just as the door clicked shut behind us, his phone rang.

He didn’t even glance my way before answering it. No excuse, no “I’ll be quick.” Just silence, then his voice—cold and professional—as he stepped aside to take the call.

I walked into the living area and sank into the couch, waiting. Tired. A little bit tense.

I hope we’ll talk after that call.

But I was wrong.

He ended the call ten minutes later and approached me, already grabbing his car keys from the counter.

“I need to go to work,” he said plainly.

I looked up, confused and a little stunned. My brows drew together. “I thought we were going to talk?” I reminded him. My voice came out softer than I intended, more vulnerable.

He exhaled and placed both hands on his hips like I had just asked something unreasonable.

“We’ll talk after work,” he said. “Right now, you should focus on your own stuff. I know you have things to deal with too.”

I stared at him, biting back the frustration that rose in my throat. He wasn’t wrong—Noel was still waiting on the other side of my silence. I had my own mess to fix.

So I gave a small shrug and nodded, masking the disappointment creeping into my chest. What else could I do? If this was how he wanted to handle things, I wasn’t in a position to push him. Besides, it wasn’t news to me—he had always been married to his work more than anything or anyone else.

“Make yourself at home,” he added as he turned away. “There’s food in the fridge. Also…” He paused, glancing back at me. “Get your things from your place. You’re living here from now on.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than they should’ve been.

I pressed my teeth into my lower lip, hesitant. “Can’t I just stay at my place? I mean, your parents aren’t even around, and—”

“Are you f*****g kidding me?” he snapped, his voice low but sharp, slicing through the air like a slap.

I recoiled slightly, lifting my hands instinctively in surrender. “Alright, alright,” I said quickly. “Just asking.”

He didn’t say anything more.

“You’re no fun,” I said with a half-smile, shaking my head in mock defeat. “But seriously… I need to head back to Iloilo soon. There’s something going on with the business, and I think I’ll have to stay there for a while to sort everything out.”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he just looked at me, his gaze unreadabl. The silence stretched longer than expected, and for a second, I wondered if I’d said something wrong. Had I caught him off guard?

Just as I opened my mouth to ask, he finally spoke.

“We’ll talk about that too,” he said. “Maybe tonight.”

His voice was even, deliberate. Then he added, “I’ve got a few urgent things to handle at the company today. Can you wait for me?”

There was no hesitation in my reply. “Of course.”

Because what else was I going to say?

We hadn’t laid the details out yet, but we both knew what was coming. There was a conversation waiting to happen—an important one. A decision. A deal, really. Something that could shift the direction of both our lives if we agreed to it.

The only difference was… it clearly meant more to me than it did to him. I saw it in the way he spoke, the way he always made space for his priorities—his company, his schedule. And here I was, caught somewhere between needing his help and not wanting to seem like I did.

Still, I couldn’t rush this. I had to be patient. After all, I was about to ask him for something big.

“Then it’s settled,” he said simply, before giving me a brief nod and heading out the door.

And just like that, I was alone in his penthouse.

The silence wrapped around me like a thin layer of fog—still, quiet, a little too sterile. Rather than let myself spiral into thoughts, I reached for my phone. It was fully charged, but I’d turned it off the night before—probably in frustration—and completely forgot to turn it back on.

The moment the screen lit up, it came alive with a flood of notifications. My inbox and message threads started filling up, one after another—most of them from Noel, mixed in with a few concerned texts from friends asking where I was, how I was, and if I was okay.

Noel’s last message had been unmistakable: Call me the moment you have time.

So I did.

He answered on the first ring.

[“Miss Kat!”] he exclaimed, his voice a strange mix of relief and urgency. [“Thank goodness you finally called! I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday—your phone’s been dead, or something. Completely unattended!”]

“I was meeting my in-laws, Noel,” I said as I stood from the cushioned bench and stepped out onto the veranda that overlooked the pool. The air was warm, the sun beginning its ascend behind a curtain of clouds, and the rippling water glinted under the soft orange light.

[“R-Right… right, about that,”] he stammered, suddenly sounding more serious. [“That’s actually why I’ve been trying to reach you. I need to let you know… Mr. Ramirez is furious. The wedding with his son didn’t push through, and—well, he’s not taking it lightly.”]

I let out a long sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. Of course he was angry. We had gone to him for help, practically begged him to keep our company from crumbling. And in return, we were supposed to seal the deal with a marriage—a neat little transaction dressed up as tradition.

And then it didn’t happen. Of course disappointment followed. Of course there would be backlash.

“But Noel,” I said as I walked toward one of the sun loungers near the pool, “you were the one who told me that his son didn’t show up either, right?”

[“Yes, Miss Kat. That’s correct,”] he replied immediately, though his voice had taken on a more cautious edge. [“But what’s making Mr. Ramirez even angrier is… well, no one can get ahold of his son. He flew back in from the States yesterday, but ever since then—nothing. Not a single word.”]

He hesitated.

I stopped in my tracks and narrowed my eyes. “He ran away, didn’t he?”

There was a pause—a beat of silence where I could practically hear the reluctant confirmation gathering at the back of Noel’s throat.

[“It’s not official,”] he finally said, his tone tight, [“but… yes. That’s what it looks like.”]

I sank into the lounger and placed the phone on speaker, setting it beside me. The sky stretched above me in a flawless sheet of blue, completely indifferent to the mess unraveling below it.

And for a long moment, I said nothing.

Honestly? I didn’t even blame him.

If Gavin Ramirez had chosen to disappear rather than go through with the wedding, I understood. We didn’t know each other—had never exchanged more than a few forced pleasantries, if that. He’d been summoned from the other side of the world for one reason and one reason only: to marry me.

Not because he loved me. Not because he wanted to.

But because his father demanded it.

And if the roles were reversed? If Grandpa were still healthy and our company wasn’t bleeding out financially? If I had the privilege of choice?

I probably would’ve run, too.

After all… who in their right mind agrees to marry a stranger just to keep a business deal afloat?

Not someone with a way out.

Not someone free enough to choose rebellion.

And as much as I hated admitting it—I couldn’t blame him for doing exactly what I wished I could’ve done.

[“But… how are you already married, Miss Kat?”]

Noel’s voice broke the silence that had lingered between us for a few seconds too long. His question was gentle, tentative—almost as if he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask. But it hit me like a stone to the chest all the same.

I exhaled a heavy sigh.

“I went to the wrong church, Noel,” I said quietly, each word tasting surreal as it left my mouth.

There was a pause. And then—bit by bit—I began to tell him everything. From the moment the driver took a wrong turn, to the vows I accidentally exchanged with a complete stranger, to the overwhelming chaos that followed. I expected him to ask questions, to react—maybe even to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

But he didn’t. Noel just listened. Silently. Patiently. As if he knew I needed someone to bear the weight of this story without judgment.

When I finally finished, the line stayed quiet for a heartbeat longer—then his voice came, soft but edged with careful curiosity.

[“May I know who this… Javier is?”]

Oh. Right.

I hadn’t told him the full name. My bad.

“It’s Javier Lanford,” I replied, a bit more casually than I should’ve. “I think I can figure something out with hi—”

[“What?!”] Noel’s sharp gasp cut me off.

My brows knitted together. I pulled the phone away from my ear slightly, staring at the screen as though it would explain his sudden outburst.

“Yes,” I said slowly. “Javier Lanford. Why? Do you know him or something?”

I unlocked my phone and typed the name into a search bar, already sensing there was more to this man than I had initially realized. As Noel’s voice returned, the search results began to populate.

[“Miss Kat,”] he said, his voice now serious—almost hushed, like he was sharing classified information. [“If we’re talking about the same Javier Lanford… then I honestly don’t know whether you’re the luckiest woman alive—or the most cursed.”]

I froze, my thumb hovering above the screen.

The name appeared at the top, followed by dozens of articles. Press features. Corporate profiles. Photos—most of which were clipped from company events or high-level meetings. He rarely appeared alone. Always surrounded by board members, CEOs, or foreign investors. Always in the shadows of something much bigger.

My stomach twisted.

“What do you mean?” I asked, even though part of me already feared the answer.

Noel didn’t hold back.

[“He’s known as a shark in the business world, Miss Kat. Ruthless. Brilliant. Calculated. He’s taken deal after deal and turned them into gold mines. Ever since he stepped into the Lanford Group, the company’s expansion has been relentless. Strategic. Global.”]

He took a breath, then added, [“Entire industries have collapsed just trying to compete with them. And the terrifying part? Most of those decisions—mergers, acquisitions, demolitions of rival brands—were orchestrated under his direction.”]

I stared at the screen, the man I had accidentally married now staring back at me in pixelated stills, as if daring me to figure him out.

A shark, huh?

While Noel spoke, his words slowly faded into the background. My attention had wandered, my fingers scrolling through a few articles I found online—about him. My husband.

The headlines alone were enough to make me pause. He was already thirty, currently serving as the Chief Operating Officer of their family's massive company. A graduate of one of the most elite universities abroad, and not just with a single degree—but two MBAs. Two. From different institutions. Ivy League, of course.

As I skimmed through the long list of his accolades, I could feel my chest tightening with a strange mix of intimidation and curiosity. Some of the terms meant absolutely nothing to me—corporate jargon, investment strategies, mergers and acquisitions—but the fact that there were over twenty major accomplishments listed under his name? That was something I could understand.

Wow, I thought, letting the screen dim in my hand for a moment. Did I just marry a business prodigy or something?

I barely had time to dwell on it before Noel continued speaking, always so calm and composed. [“From what I’ve gathered, his next ventures seem to be focused on entering the construction industry, Miss Kat—”]

“Well, that just makes it even better that I married him, right?” I blurted out, cutting him off before he could finish. “That means he can help Grandpa’s company. This could actually work.”

I tried to sound lighthearted, maybe even optimistic—but I heard the edge in my own voice. A quiet desperation mixed with stubborn hope.

Noel didn’t respond right away. Instead, he let out a slow sigh, the kind that made my chest tighten again—this time with dread.

[“One of the reasons Sir Anton never pushed to expand in the Luzon area… was because of him,”] Noel said softly, almost as if he didn’t want the words to wound me. But they did anyway.

I lowered my gaze and bit down on my bottom lip.

A memory crept in without warning: Grandpa sitting silently in his study, his hands folded tightly, his eyes clouded with disappointment. I remembered him mentioning how one of their expansion plans in Manila had fallen apart, but the details? I had tuned them out. Back then, I thought it was just another failed project. I never realized he might have walked away because of him—the man I had just married.

I inhaled sharply, forcing the image to blur in my mind.

“Let’s just focus on the bright side, Noel,” I said, squaring my shoulders, trying to sound like someone who had control over the situation. “We’re married now. That’s done. I’m sure he’ll help us—somehow. I’ll take care of it. I’ll deal with him.”

There was steel in my voice now, even if it didn’t quite reach my heart. I had no idea how I’d deal with him, or what he’d say when I finally confronted him about all this. But I didn’t want to show Noel any doubt. If I started unraveling now, everything else would follow.

We shifted to other topics soon after. I told him I’d be staying here with Javier for now, at least until things settled. But I still had to return to Iloilo soon—there were urgent matters at the company that needed my attention. And more importantly, I had to sit down with Javier.

I asked Noel about Grandpa. His update wasn’t surprising—Grandpa was still in a coma. No progress. No setbacks. Just the same haunting stillness that had stretched on far too long. I nodded along quietly as Noel’s voice filled the silence, trying not to let the ache in my chest show. Before we ended the call, he reminded me about the press conference scheduled in a few days. Apparently, I couldn’t avoid it any longer. I made a mental note to bring it up with Javier later tonight—assuming he’d actually be around.

The rest of my day drifted by in a slow blur. I wandered through the penthouse, familiarizing myself with the layout like a stranger trying to learn the rhythm of a place that wasn’t quite hers. Everything smelled too clean, too new. Like money and silence. I eventually left for a bit and returned to my condo to pack a few essentials—clothes, skincare, a couple of books I’d probably never touch. The basics.

By the time I returned, the sky was already bleeding into dusk. Hints of orange spilled through the tall windows, washing the walls in soft light. I headed straight to the room I had decided on earlier. Unpacking didn’t take long—especially since I barely brought anything. Fortunately, most of the doors in the penthouse weren’t locked, which saved me from having to go around like a trespasser or beg Javier for keys.

I ended up choosing the room right next to his, just across his sister’s room.

Yes, I knew it was his room—recognizable from that chaotic night I’d bolted down the hallway like I was escaping a crime scene. But my choice wasn’t about sentiment. It was strategy. If his parents ever dropped by unexpectedly and I needed to make myself scarce, all I’d have to do was slip through the door next to mine. Quick, easy, and undetected. Pure survival instinct.

Speaking of that man... didn’t he say he’d text me?

He better have saved my number. Because when I checked my phone, there was nothing—no messages, no missed calls. Just Noel’s update from earlier. I frowned, scrolling through my inbox again, as if maybe the message was hiding somewhere between spam and disappointment.

How was I supposed to contact Javier if I didn’t even have his number?

I asked Noel if he had it, but he didn’t—not if it was Javier’s personal line. Of course not. Because why would anything be easy?

I gave up after that. Instead, I clung to the only reassurance I had: his promise that he’d be home tonight and we’d talk. About our arrangement. About all of this.

And then a new, far more domestic thought struck me: if he was coming home… should I cook dinner?

Would that be too much? Or weird?

The last thing I needed was to set off his smoke alarm and look completely incapable. Truth was, my culinary skills barely extended past fried eggs and halfway-decent adobo. I wasn’t about to burn down his designer kitchen in an attempt to be thoughtful.

So I ordered takeout instead. Something simple. Safe. The kind of food that wouldn’t offend anyone.

When everything was ready and waiting on the dining table, I sat on the couch—eyes drifting every so often to the elevator, ears tuned to any sound of it arriving. Every soft mechanical hum made my pulse jump. Any minute now, he’d walk through the door.

Any minute.

But the minutes passed.

And passed.

And passed.

The food grew cold. My eyes grew heavy.

And somewhere between waiting and wondering, I dozed off on the couch—alone, still dressed, still waiting he’d come home.