Hillbilly Girlie Marries a Billionaire – Episode 09
The Anderson banquet occupied the top floor of a private hotel, where crystal chandeliers floated above white roses and conversations softened whenever Lucas approached. Emily entered on his arm and felt dozens of appraising gazes settle on her gown, her posture, and every uncertain step. Back home, introductions began with a handshake. Here, they began with an assessment of worth.
Lucas leaned closer and told her to stay beside him. Emily whispered that she could hardly get closer without climbing into his jacket. His mouth almost curved. The exchange steadied her because it belonged only to them, a small pocket of humor inside a room designed to make her feel exposed.
Adam announced them as Mr. and Mrs. Lucas Anderson. Surprise traveled through the guests in a visible ripple. Lucas’s marriage had been rumor that morning; now Emily stood before the city’s most influential families wearing the Anderson emerald and his ring.
A silver-haired woman approached first and asked which Davis family Emily belonged to. Emily answered honestly that her mother ran a small farm and that their family had no company, foundation, or political connections. The woman’s smile cooled. To this crowd, an ordinary history was not neutral; it was a flaw.
Another guest asked how long she and Lucas had known each other. Emily hesitated. Lucas answered that they knew enough. His hand settled lightly over hers, warning the room that questions about their private life would meet a boundary he controlled.
Whispers nevertheless followed them. Someone called her a contract wife, softly but not softly enough. Emily’s fingers tightened around the stem of her untouched glass. The label was true, yet hearing it spoken with contempt made her feel as if every kind moment between her and Lucas had been declared counterfeit.
Lucas asked whether she wanted to leave. Emily remembered Rose telling her the city was not meant for people like her. If she fled now, every cruel person in the room would accept that judgment as fact. She shook her head and asked Lucas to introduce her to the board.
He did, one skeptical face at a time. Emily stopped trying to imitate their polished language and spoke as herself. She discussed farm accounts with a finance director, asked a jeweler how stones were ethically sourced, and surprised an investor by understanding the cost of labor better than people who only read it in reports.
The room’s hostility did not disappear, but curiosity began to replace dismissal. Lucas watched the change with quiet satisfaction. Emily had no training in society rituals, yet she recognized character quickly and asked questions people wanted to answer. Her straightforwardness made rehearsed charm look hollow.
Then Rose entered on Kevin’s arm. She wore scarlet and carried herself with the confidence of someone accustomed to invitations purchased through family connections. Her smile froze when she saw Emily beside Lucas, transformed but unmistakable.
Kevin stopped so abruptly that Rose nearly collided with him. His gaze traveled over Emily’s dress, the emerald necklace, and Lucas’s protective stance. The woman he had abandoned in the rain now occupied the place everyone in the room desired, and disbelief curdled into resentment.
Rose recovered first. She congratulated Emily loudly and remarked on how quickly some women improved their circumstances. The implication drew interested glances. Emily felt yesterday’s rain again, cold against her skin, but she refused to let Rose drag her back to the gutter.
“Some circumstances improve the moment dishonest people walk away,” Emily replied. Rose’s eyes sharpened. Kevin muttered that Emily was being ungrateful, as though his betrayal had somehow delivered her good fortune.
Lucas asked whether they knew his wife. Rose called Emily an old acquaintance from the country. Kevin added that Emily had always been ambitious and warned Lucas that she knew how to use sympathy. The lie came easily, but Lucas had already witnessed who used money to humiliate whom.
Emily started to defend herself. Lucas’s thumb brushed across her knuckles, asking her to wait. He told Kevin that a man who accepted years of financial support before insulting the woman who provided it had no standing to discuss ambition.
Kevin’s face drained. He had not expected Lucas to know. Rose demanded proof, but Emily saw uncertainty flicker beneath her outrage. Kevin had probably edited his past for Rose just as thoroughly as he had edited Emily out of his future.
Rather than continue the spectacle, Lucas held out his hand to Emily. “Dance with me.” She whispered that she did not know how. He promised to lead, and something in the certainty of his voice made the crowded room recede.
On the dance floor, his hand rested at her waist while hers settled on his shoulder. Emily missed the first step and nearly trod on him. Lucas adjusted without embarrassment, guiding her until the rhythm became natural. Around them, the guests watched the supposed contract couple move with a closeness that required very little acting.
Rose observed from the edge of the floor, fury hidden behind her champagne glass. Kevin could not take his eyes from Emily. Lucas noticed both, and the arm around Emily tightened—not enough to claim ownership, but enough to declare that she would not face them alone.
As the music ended, applause rose through the ballroom. Emily looked up, briefly forgetting the contract and every watching face. Lucas bent toward her as if to say something private, but an older man’s cane struck the marble behind them. Grandfather Anderson had arrived, and his first cold command was for Lucas to bring the mysterious bride before him immediately.