My Billionaire Husband Married a Fool—or So He Thought

Caroline had just stepped outside when she spotted the butler rushing toward the elevator, a crowd streaming in through the main entrance close behind him. Her brow furrowed. Usually, the mansion housed no one but the butler and Dereck—so why were there so many people here at two in the morning?

Curiosity got the better of her. Caroline quickened her pace and fell in with them, determined to find out what was going on. She reached the elevator, pressed the button, and stepped inside. Just as the doors began to slide shut, a calm voice rang out.

“Hold the door.”

A man carrying a medical kit slipped in, hit the button for the fifth floor, then turned to glance at Caroline. His gaze swept over her outfit—plain pajamas under a light jacket. A brief, amused smile crossed his face.

Trying to fill the awkward elevator silence, he struck up a conversation. “So. You’re the woman True Palmer chose to stay with Dereck?”

Caroline caught the comment, frowned slightly, and said nothing.

The man’s curiosity only grew. “Playing hard to get, are we?”

Caroline dipped her head and rolled her eyes where he couldn’t see. Thankfully, the fifth floor arrived fast.

When the doors slid open, two men who looked like bodyguards were waiting. Surprise flickered across their faces at the sight of Caroline, but they quickly turned to the man beside her, with obvious respect.

“Mr. Sanchez.”

“What’s my cousin’s condition?” he asked briskly.

The bodyguards hesitated, exchanging glances before answering. “This way, sir.”

He caught the urgency they didn’t voice, nodded, and followed them out. Caroline was about to follow when Kaisen, the butler, emerged from Dereck’s room.

Kaisen quickly ushered Sanchez inside, then blocked Caroline at the door. “Miss, please return to your room and rest.”

“Dereck...” Caroline looked up at Kaisen, eyes wide with curiosity.

Kaisen gently guided her back toward the elevator, reassuring her. “Don’t worry, ma’am. Mr. Sanchez is handling Mr. Palmer’s care. He’ll be fine by morning.”

“But... I want to see Dereck.”

At his wit’s end with her naive persistence, Kaisen fell back on Dereck’s words. “Don’t you remember what Mr. Palmer told you tonight?”

Feigning innocence, Caroline blinked up at him, clueless. “What did Dereck say?”

Kaisen nearly muttered to himself. Ignorance really was bliss. She had no idea how bad Dereck’s condition was—and she didn’t seem to care. He sighed. “He said he doesn’t want to see you right now. If you go in there, you’ll only upset him.”

He paused for effect. “And if he gets upset, he might send you back to your family. Is that what you want?”

Caroline nodded, as if she understood. “I don’t want to go back and be mistreated by my aunt and sister!” she muttered, fidgeting with her fingers.

Kaisen watched her step back into the elevator and let out a breath of relief. “Sleep well, ma’am. He’ll be better by morning.”

“Okay,” Caroline agreed. She nodded and headed back to her room. She couldn’t have cared less what happened to Dereck; all that mattered was finishing her mission and getting back to her uncle and aunt in the States.

With that thought, she drifted into a pleasant sleep.

Meanwhile, tension simmered in Dereck’s room. Sanchez worked tirelessly, administering CPR and setting up an IV for the unconscious Dereck until he started to come around.

When Dereck’s eyes finally fluttered open, Sanchez smiled with relief. “Glad to see you’re back.”

“Yeah,” Dereck croaked. “You got here just in time. Better than me being sick overseas and making you fly out.”

Sanchez grimaced, then studied Dereck’s unnaturally pale face. Guilt pinched at him. “Sorry about the poison, cousin...”

Dereck waved him off. “Don’t worry. I’ve posted a query on that medical site, hoping to find a specialist.”

“The specialist? You’re finally taking my advice?” Sanchez asked, surprised.

“Is a miracle worker like that even real?” Dereck shook his head, exhausted. “If someone with your skill set can’t crack it, why would anyone else?”

“Then why bother...?”

“A last-ditch hope,” Dereck said with a shrug.

“Has anyone taken the case yet?” Sanchez asked, hopeful.

“Yeah,” Dereck said. He caught the flicker of excitement on Sanchez’s face—rare, considering the man had been calmer accepting his Nobel Prize.

“Seriously?” Sanchez asked, momentarily at a loss for words.

Dereck let out a quiet chuckle. “I put it out there on a whim. Maybe the hefty reward reeled someone in.”

“They’d better have some real expertise,” Sanchez warned, ever the realist.

Sanchez considered that for a moment, then mused, “Could it be that woman you met in Italy two years ago when you got sick?”