The Billionaire's Pretend Wife (Isabella)

Chapter 23 Twenty Three

When he didn’t seem to pay attention to her plea, Isabelle grasped his arm and pushed it away. She

was clearly only going to get out of this by having to–

“Just a sec,” Jacob said, his voice gentle. She went still as he reached up and touched her forehead,

then wiped his palm over her skin. “You’ve got a bit of sweat here.”

“Oh,” she mumbled, her face going hot. Was that it? He just wanted to wipe her forehead? He should

have said earlier. And here she was, getting wild ideas…

Jacob could barely keep his lips from splitting into a wide grin. So maybe he enjoyed seeing her

frazzled by his proximity a little too much. And he was also guilty of enjoying having her trapped in his

arm a lot. But he couldn’t help it–she was just too adorable.

He half-expected her to keep pushing against him after he said he was wiping her sweat, but she

didn’t. Instead, she stilled and let him go ahead, her struggle gone. What had she thought he was going

to do?

“Are you done?” she asked after a few seconds, giving him a quick look and then glancing away. Her

look wasn’t hostile or suspicious in any way–she looked totally okay with him wiping off her sweat. It

made him wonder whether she was always this trusting.

“Almost,” he said, moving his attention to her nose. When he brushed his finger on her nose, her eyes

shot back to him again, and this time, she extricated herself from his hold and stepped away. It looked

like that was where she drew the line.

“I’m good, thanks,” she said, passing her hand over her nose. “You didn’t have to do that.” Walking

away, she asked, “So, when can we move in?”

***

When the weekend came along, Isabelle went to see Ruth in the hospital. It had been a while since she

had seen her and she couldn’t wait to spend some time with her.

Isabelle was always happy to see her, but now, seeing her lying in bed with IV lines hooked to her arm,

she only felt heaviness in her heart. The frustration that she still couldn’t pay the medical bill bothered

her on a daily basis. But now, sitting beside her bed, it hit her even harder.

Ruth was trying to be cheerful, but Isabelle could see that the disease was taking its toll on her. And if

she didn’t start her dialysis sessions soon, she would get worse.

The most she could do now was ensure Ruth was getting the best care while awaiting dialysis. The

hospital she currently was in wasn’t exactly the best, and she feared that she wasn’t getting optimum

care. From what she had observed, the hospital was understaffed. It would help if Ruth was in a place

where she could receive more personalised care.

“I want to move you to a better hospital,” she told her, “I want you to be in the best hands until you can

start your treatment.”

Ruth shook her head and waved a hand in dismissal. “You worry too much, Isabelle. I’m totally fine

here. They have kept me alive until now, haven’t they?” she asked lightly, smiling weakly.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Isabelle muttered, reaching forward and taking her hand between hers.

“And I’ve seen what the food they serve here looks like. If they put that much effort in everything else, it

worries me alot.”

Ruth chuckled. “Hospital food is not meant to look or even taste good. Trust me, it’s not all that bad.

Besides, I can afford to stay here.”

“You don’t have to worry about money,” Isabelle told her. “If there’s something you don’t like about here,

you should tell me. I have a new job now, I can cover whatever extra amount you’ll need to pay.”

Ruth shook her head instantly. “No, dear. I’m okay. Do not think of using your first salary to move me to

a posh hospital, I won’t take it. I’m really doing alright here.”

“But–”

“Shh,” Ruth silenced her. “Let's talk about your new job instead. The Larson Group, huh? You always

wanted to work there.”

Isabelle smiled, giving in to Ruth’s insistence to stop talking about hospitals. “Yes, I did.” Ruth was one

of the few people who ever got to hear of her dreams to become a designer and the companies she

wanted to work for.

First, it was because as her caregiver at the orphanage, she was the closest person to her. Second,

even after the Cruzes adopted her, it became quickly clear that her new mother and sister were not as

interested in her personal life. At the end of the day, it was Ruth who listened to her dreams and hopes.

“Is it any good?” Ruth asked.

“It’s amazing,” Isabelle replied, getting excited. “I’ve just been there for a week, and I’m already loving it

so much.”

“I always knew you would achieve your dreams,” Ruth said with a smile. “Remember when you would

make bracelets for the other kids back then? They would even fight over whose turn it was to receive

one from you.” She paused and laughed weakly. “You have a gift, Isabelle. I hope it will keep opening

the right doors for you.”

Isabelle nodded, squeezing her hand lightly. Every time she spent time with Ruth, the woman always

said things that reached deep into her heart and remained there. Whenever Isabelle was going through

a hard time, she was the first person she thought of, because she knew no matter how tough things

seemed, Ruth would make it all seem better.

Now, it was her turn to make things better for her, and she wasn’t going to give up, no matter what

obstacle she came across. And when she found enough money, it would be easier to convince Ruth to

accept her help.

***

When Isabelle left the hospital, she found herself on the bus leading to her adoptive parents’ home.

She hadn’t planned on going back there after what happened the last time, but she felt that she didn’t

have many options.

She was ready to beg and do whatever it took to have them change their minds and honour their

promise. With Ruth’s situation, she couldn’t afford to focus on their betrayal and hate towards her. She

was ready to sacrifice every last ounce of pride she had to get whatever funds she could.

It was late afternoon when she got to the house. One of the servants came to the door and let her in.

After the warm welcome, however, she learned from the servant that the entire family had gone on

vacation abroad.

“When will they be back?” she asked, ignoring the negative feeling rising in her throat. How could they

be on vacation when not long ago they had claimed to be cash-strapped?

“I’m not sure about that,” the servant replied.

Well, wasn’t that convenient, Isabelle thought. Were they even truly overseas? Isabelle knew that Lucy

was capable of asking the servants to lie about their whereabouts in case she appeared.

But at the end, she didn’t have a choice but to leave. She took the bus back to the city, feeling down.

Now that she was sure her parents’ help was not an option, it was time to seriously look elsewhere.

She considered taking a loan from a bank, but she knew that would be hard given she had just started

her new job and wasn’t a permanent employee. If she wanted to borrow money, she would have to look Content is © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

for one of those informal lenders. She shivered at the idea of what would happen if she was unable to

pay them back. No, there had to be a better way.

She sighed and leaned back in her seat, getting ready to relax the rest of the way to the city. That was

when her eyes fell on the sticker plastered to the side of the bus.

It was an advertisement from a pharmaceutical company looking for volunteers for a drug trial. The

sticker stated that one could earn up to two thousand dollars and would get compensation in case the

drug affected their health negatively. Isabelle sat up quickly and took out her phone. Going online, she

searched for directions to the company.

An hour later, Isabelle was at the pharmaceutical company, signing a registration form. They told her

that she could take the drug the next week, and she felt like luck was finally smiling upon her.

It seemed that Ruth wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

***

When Jacob came back home that evening, he was drawn to the sounds of Isabelle cooking in their

new kitchen. He smiled and headed towards the kitchen, meaning to ask her if it was to her taste.

Isabelle was waltzing behind the counter at the stoves, humming happily as she cooked. His smile

grew even wider at the sight. Even had the kitchen not been to her taste, she was definitely happy

enough.

She turned around with a pot held between her hands just then and placed it on the counter. Her eyes

lifted to him and she smiled in recognition. “Good evening.”

Jacob’s plan was to answer her greeting right away, but the moment she had turned towards him, his

brain had short-circuited. Were aprons supposed to be that sexy? The apron she wore accentuated her

figure, outlining her bust and slender waist before flaring at her hips.

He cleared his throat and brought his eyes back to her face. He tried hard to arrange his expression to

not give away the instant attraction he was having to her. “Good evening to you too,” he replied, and

then cleared his throat again.

And Isabelle, being the absolute adorable angel that she was, leaned towards him, her brow crowding.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, uh, yes,” he replied, taking a quick step back. A much needed step away from her nice

fragrance that seeked to draw him to her.

Isabelle gestured to her face. “It’s just that you look a little–”

“I’m okay,” he interrupted her and gestured towards the door. “I’ll go wash up and join you for dinner.”

“Oh, okay,” she replied, still looking at him with a little concern.

Jacob walked away, cursing up a storm in his head.

Great, how was he going to play husband and wife to a woman he was attracted to when he couldn’t

even hide the attraction?

When did his grand plan to divorce her as quickly as possible get so far off the track?

***

When Jacob reappeared to have dinner, he was more composed. Isabelle was setting the last of the

cutlery on the dining table, and he made a point to not stare at her as he took his seat.

“Sorry, let me get that,” Isabelle said, suddenly turning to him. He looked to see what she was talking

about and noticed a paper lying on the dinner table.

He picked it up, meaning to pass it along, but the writing at the top caught his attention. A drug trial?

His eyes quickly perused the paper and he realised that Isabelle had filled in her information.

His fingers tightened around the paper as he looked up at her. “What is this?”

Isabelle twisted her hands together, berating herself for leaving the registration form in the open.

Jacob shook the paper as he continued looking at her. “A drug trial? Why would you do that?”

“It’s safe!” she told him. “I wouldn’t have applied for it if it wasn’t.”

“How do you know that?” he questioned, his brow creasing into a frown. “Do you think these greedy

pharmaceutical companies would be honest about the side effects?” He tossed the form back to the

table. “Do not do it. It’s a big risk.”