Testing His Wife: The Billionaire's Secret

Frieda's fingertips brushed against the cold, heavy edge of the black metal card.

Dewitt's jaw clamped shut. A sickening wave of defeat washed over him. It was over. She was going to take it.

But Frieda didn't close her fingers around the metal.

Instead, she turned her hand over and gently pressed her palm against Eleonora's wrist.

She looked up into the older woman's eyes. There was no greed in Frieda's expression. No hunger. Only a deep, gentle concern.

"I can't take this," Frieda said softly, her voice steady. "No, Grandma, this is far too valuable. I can tell just by holding it that this card is extraordinary, and I simply cannot accept such an expensive gift. Dewitt and I are managing on our own."

Dewitt's shoulders instantly dropped.

The breath rushed out of his lungs in a silent, jagged exhale. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his face from showing the massive wave of relief that crashed over him.

Eleonora blinked. She stared at Frieda, completely stunned.

Valuable? The card had no limit. It could buy a small island. Eleonora opened her mouth, struggling to find a way to downplay the card without exposing the family secret.

"Things are tight right now, yes. But we earn our own money. It feels better that way," Frieda continued, her voice steady and earnest.

She gently but firmly pushed Eleonora's hand back toward the expensive leather bag. She didn't let her fingers linger on the card for even a second.

Dewitt stared at Frieda's profile.

Deep inside his chest, the thick, icy wall he had built around his heart cracked. A tiny, sharp fracture.

He had spent his entire life surrounded by people who would kill for a fraction of what was on that card. And this girl, wearing a faded shirt and cheap jeans, had just pushed it away out of pure principle and self-reliance.

Eleonora's eyes filled with hot tears.

Her heart swelled with a fierce, protective love for this girl. She aggressively shoved the card back toward Frieda.

"If you don't take it, you are insulting me," Eleonora demanded, her voice cracking slightly.

Frieda looked panicked. She didn't want to disrespect her husband's grandmother.

She turned her head and looked up at Dewitt. Her eyes were wide, pleading for him to help her.

"Dewitt," Frieda said. "If Grandma insists... why don't you hold onto her pension? Keep it safe for emergencies."

Dewitt looked down into her clear, trusting eyes.

His heart skipped a heavy, painful beat. A massive wave of guilt slammed into his stomach, making him feel physically sick.

He reached out. His large fingers brushed against Frieda's as he took the heavy black card from Eleonora's hand.

He slid the card into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, safely hiding the billionaire secret against his chest.

"I'll keep it safe," Dewitt said. His voice was unusually thick.

Eleonora huffed, slightly annoyed but accepting the compromise. She grabbed Frieda's hand and pulled her up from the sofa.

"Fine. But I am taking you shopping," Eleonora declared. "Go change your clothes."

Frieda couldn't say no to the old woman's excitement. She nodded and walked into the master bedroom.

The second the bedroom door clicked shut, Eleonora turned her sharp eyes on Dewitt.

"Are you satisfied with your sick little test now?" she asked coldly.

Dewitt didn't answer. He stared at the closed bedroom door. The image of Frieda pushing the card away burned in his brain.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He opened his encrypted chat with K.C.

His thumbs flew across the screen.

Halt the divorce papers. Delay the plan indefinitely.

He hit send. He stared at the word "Delivered" on the screen and let out a long, heavy breath.

The bedroom door opened.

Frieda walked out. She was wearing a washed-out denim jacket and a pair of scuffed white canvas sneakers.

Eleonora looked at her shoes and let out a dramatic sigh of pity. "We are fixing this immediately."

Dewitt slipped his phone back into his pocket. His face returned to its cold, unreadable mask.

"I have to go to the office. I have overtime," Dewitt lied smoothly.

He grabbed his car keys from the bowl by the door. He opened the front door and stepped out into the hallway.

He stepped into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind him. Standing alone in the dim corridor, he paused for a long second. In his mind, the image of Frieda kneeling to tie her shoelaces played on a loop. The coldness that usually armored his thoughts melted away, replaced by a strange, unfamiliar heat that settled deep in his chest.