The Billionaire I Married by Mistake

15. KEEP

|Katherine|

This can’t be happening!

My heart slammed against my ribs, each beat louder than the last.

Oh my god… Did I seriously marry the wrong man?

A wave of panic surged through me like a tidal wave crashing onto the shore. I froze in place, my breath catching in my throat.

Damn it!

Noel’s voice crackled through the phone, laced with alarm. [“Miss Kat, please don’t tell me—”]

But I didn’t hear the rest. His words were cut short the moment a large, uninvited hand clamped around my arm.

I gasped.

Before I could react, his other hand shot out and grabbed my wrist—the one holding the phone. My fingers instinctively loosened from the shock, and the phone slipped from my grasp. It fell, hitting the floor with a sharp clatter that echoed far too loudly in the silence that followed.

My eyes flew wide.

I turned, breath hitching as I struggled to see who had touched me so abruptly. My gaze dropped to the phone on the ground, then slowly—hesitantly—lifted.

And there he was.

The man standing in front of me. The man I was never supposed to marry!

The blood drained from my face. My mind raced to make sense of the situation, but all I could do was stare—completely frozen—as realization hit me like a punch to the chest.

“Who are you?” he demanded the moment his hand clamped around my arm.

The words came fast, sharp—laced with authority. Instinct took over. I twisted, trying to pull away, but his grip was solid, unyielding like steel. His fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist, and for a moment, I could feel the pulse of tension vibrating off him. His eyes locked on mine, sharp and assessing, and something in them—something cold—made me instinctively take a step back.

But then I froze. Why the hell was I stepping away? I didn’t even know who this man was!

“And who the hell are you?” I snapped, jerking my arm again. This time, he let go. The sudden release caught me off balance, and I stumbled slightly, barely catching myself before I fell.

What the hell just happened?

He didn’t answer immediately. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his face ticking with restraint. He just stared at me, like he was trying to figure something out—whether I was a threat, a liar, or just someone who’d wandered too far into the wrong place.

Then finally, he spoke.

“Are you a friend of Gabriel?” he asked, his voice clipped, suspicious.

I blinked at him. “Who?”

A flash of irritation crossed his face. He muttered something under his breath—low, frustrated—and ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to shake off whatever storm was building in his head.

“You don’t know Gabriel Gil?” he asked again, slower this time, like maybe he thought I was lying. Or stupid.

I raised a brow. “Wait… you mean the actor?”

My confusion was genuine now, deepening with every second. Why was this stranger asking me about Gabriel Gil, of all people? A man I’d only seen in passing on billboards and headlines—what did he have to do with this?

“Yes! But that’s not what I meant when I said you were famous!” he blurted out. “What I’m trying to ask is—did Gabriel send you to the church? Did he choose you… and send you there to marry me?”

My brows furrowed, and confusion clouded my expression even more. “Why the hell would he choose me to marry you?”

He muttered a string of curses under his breath, clearly agitated. I took that as my cue to finally throw my own questions his way.

“You’re not… Gavin Ramirez?” I asked cautiously.

Now it was his turn to look at me like I’d grown two heads.

“Who the hell is that i***t?” he hissed, his face darkening further with anger. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Wow. This guy sure knows how to insult people the second he loses his patience.

“So you're not him.” I frowned. “Then what’s your name? And what were you doing at the church earlier?”

He gave me a hard look. “Didn’t you see my name when you signed our marriage contract?”

My lips parted slightly. Oh god.

I didn’t.

I was too busy crying.

Fvcck. So this was my fault? I hadn’t even bothered to check the damn name!

He scoffed, loud and sharp, the sound slicing through the tense silence between us. His expression hardened, a flicker of disbelief and irritation shadowing his features—and that look alone told me everything.

He knew.

He had finally realized that all of this—the confusion, the chaos, the humiliating mess we were tangled in—was my fault.

“I’m Javier Lanford,” he said, his voice flat, icy. “And according to my friend, I was supposed to marry a woman named Daniela Soledad.”

The name hit me like a slap. He didn’t even pause.

“But when I saw your name on the marriage contract earlier,” he continued, his eyes narrowing slightly, “it was obvious—you’re not her.”

I felt my throat tighten, a lump forming as I tried to swallow the panic building inside me. I met his gaze—sharp, accusing, waiting for an explanation—and everything inside me crumbled.

So his name really is Javier.

And all this time, I was the one who assumed he was someone else.

I was the one who got it wrong.

I’d thought he was lying. I was so sure he had played me, deceived me about his identity. But now…

God. Damn it, Katherine.

What the hell were you thinking?

How did I manage to screw up something as simple as a location?

“Fvck,” I breathed out in frustration, the word slipping past my lips before I could stop it. My knees gave way beneath the weight of my own humiliation, and I sank onto the ground like a deflated balloon.

I buried my face in my hands, unable to look at him, unable to face myself. Heat rushed to my face, rising from my chest to my cheeks, burning with shame. My entire body felt like it was on fire, not from anger—but from sheer, crushing embarrassment.

Because earlier in the call, Noel had finally told me the truth.

I had gone to the wrong church! I had married…the wrong man!

“I’m sorry…” I said, my voice muffled behind trembling fingers. “This is all my fault.”

I could barely breathe as I forced the confession out, my words spilling like broken glass. “I was supposed to marry someone named Gavin Ramirez. I was supposed to be in a different church. But because of my mistake… I ended up there.”

I stayed frozen in place, shame clinging to me like a second skin as I replayed everything in my head. Not only had I gone to the wrong church… but now what? According to Noel, Gavin hadn’t shown up either?

So even if I had gone to the right place, the wedding still wouldn’t have happened?

A wave of horror swept through me.

What about our company? What about Grandpa?

We were already teetering on the edge of ruin—drowning in debt, barely keeping things afloat. And the hospital bills… I couldn’t bring myself to move Grandpa to a public hospital. I just couldn’t.

But then… who could we turn to?

Grandpa was an only child. So was my father. There was no one left. No extended family. No hidden relatives waiting in the wings. Who was I supposed to run to when everything finally collapsed?

My eyes welled up before I could stop them.

Just a while ago, I was doing everything I could to calm myself down—trying not to cry from the pressure and frustration of meeting Gavin’s parents.

No—Javier’s parents.

And now, looking back, I should’ve known something was off. I should’ve picked up on the signs. The moment my witness failed to show up, I should have realized something was wrong—even before the ceremony was supposed to begin.

Why didn’t I?

Arghhh!

“I’m partly to blame for this situation, too.”

His voice slipped into the quiet like a gentle c***k in glass—soft, but enough to pull me back from the chaos in my head. I slowly lowered my hands from my face, and to my surprise, he was no longer standing. He had crouched down in front of me, his eyes now level with mine.

There was something different in his gaze—an unsettled weight behind it. His brows were furrowed in thought, and for the first time since all this began, he looked less like the calm, controlled man I thought he was… and more like someone who’d lost control a long time ago and was just trying to make sense of the damage.

“I didn’t even know the name of the woman I was supposed to marry,” he admitted, his voice quieter this time. Honest. Almost ashamed.

I blinked, frowning slightly. “You didn’t know her name?” I asked, the disbelief clear in my voice. “How is that even possible?”

He exhaled, frustrated, and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose like he was trying to keep himself from unraveling.

“My friend…” he started, then stopped short, shaking his head. A bitter sound escaped him—something between a sigh and a laugh. “It’s a long story, but the short version? I asked him to help me find a wife. It was supposed to be simple, clean, discreet. His brilliant solution? Keep everything anonymous. Even the name of my supposed bride.”

I stared at him, stunned.

He didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just didn’t care. “That’s why,” he went on, “when you walked into the church earlier, I didn’t question it. I thought you were the woman waiting at the altar. I thought it was all part of the plan.”

His words settled around me like cold air, wrapping tightly around my chest. My lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

Because… damn it, he actually made sense.

He genuinely believed I was the one he was meant to marry. If he didn’t know his bride’s name, if he hadn’t even been given that small detail… then he wouldn’t have recognized the mistake when I walked in.

Fvck!

Strangely enough, hearing everything he just said made the heaviness in my chest lift—just a little. Like I’d been holding my breath for days and only now managed to let a fraction of it out. Maybe… just maybe, this wasn’t entirely my fault. Maybe the mess we were in wasn’t mine to carry alone.

But that didn’t mean the problem had magically disappeared.

The truth was still staring me in the face. If he filed for annulment, then we’d be right back to square one. And if the man who was supposed to marry me hadn’t even bothered to show up at our wedding—if he walked away without a word—then that could only mean one thing.

He’d backed out. At the very last minute.

Coward.

I closed my eyes, exhaling a long breath through my nose as my fingers rubbed at my aching temples. My head was pounding, the kind of throb that came from thinking too much and getting nowhere. I had honestly believed everything was finally coming together. The pieces were supposed to fall into place. The plan was supposed to work.

And now… all of it was unraveling. All because of one mistake—no, two—mistakes we both made.

This wasn’t just a business deal anymore. It had turned into something far messier.

I turned to face him, my expression shifting into something more serious, more resolved.

“Then we should tell your parents,” I said quietly but firmly. “They deserve to know the truth.”

It made sense. It felt like the right thing to do. Why keep pretending? Why go through the motions of a marriage that wasn’t real? We didn’t even know each other.

Not that I really knew Gavin either—not in the ways that mattered. But still… this felt wrong.

So when he looked at me and shook his head, my breath caught.

He was… disagreeing?

“No.” The word was sharp. Immediate. Final.

He didn’t even let me finish my sentence.

I froze, the breath I was about to release catching in my throat. “W–What?” I stammered, my voice barely holding together. “Why?”

I searched his face for an explanation, some kind of softness, but there was none. His expression remained as unreadable as ever—cut from stone, calm in that infuriating, cold way of his. There wasn’t a flicker of hesitation or regret. If there was, he buried it well.

The early morning sun filtered through the clouds, casting golden light across his face. For a split second, I was struck dumb. It was the first time I’d seen him this clearly, without the blur of shadows or dim hotel lighting. I’d thought his eyes were a deep navy blue the night we met—cold and distant like the sea at midnight. But now, standing under daylight, I realized I was wrong.

They were blue-green. Clear, vivid. Almost startling.

He really did inherit his mother’s eyes.

But the warmth in their color didn’t match the chill in his gaze.

“We’ll keep up the act,” he said flatly, as if my opinion didn’t matter. “We’ll talk later. In private.”

He looked away then, jaw tight. “Right now, I can’t tell my parents that you weren’t supposed to be my wife. Or that this marriage is nothing more than a mistake we’re trying to fix.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. A mistake.

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and gave him a small nod. What else could I do? Argue? Beg? Walk away?

We were in this mess together, whether we wanted to be or not. Two people playing a game neither of us had truly signed up for. But if I was going to be stuck in this story, I might as well find a way to survive it.

To win.

As long as he help me with the company—his family’s backing, their resources, their name—then maybe, just maybe, it didn’t matter whose last name I ended up taking.

God. The thought alone made something twist inside me.

Was I really thinking like this now?

Like alliances mattered more than feelings? Like marriages were just strategic moves?

I clenched my fists at my sides and looked away. Good grief…I really have changed.