My Billionaire Thinks I’m His Cat Not His Fiancée Chapter 08

My Billionaire Thinks I’m His Cat Not His Fiancée Chapter 08

As I was lost in memory, a knock came at the door.

I gathered my courage and opened it.

There was only a cardboard box, mostly filled with thick fall clothes.

Lying on top was a document.

I picked it up and skimmed it: Ethan was offering compensation for emotional distress.

I could take back anything I’d left at the house, he’d write me a recommendation letter if I wanted, and he wouldn’t interfere with where I went for work.

It read like a sincere letter of apology.

So Miss Hart really had talked to him.

But honestly… who owed whom here?

He hadn’t treated me like a person, and I’d only gotten close to him for money.

I stared at the box and pushed it aside. For the first time, I felt like I was clinging to my last shred of dignity.

The System: [Oh martyr, what are you having for dinner?]

[Shut up.]

I was eating instant noodles when Miss Hart called.

Her voice sounded conflicted. She told me what happened when she’d spoken to Ethan.

He hadn’t flown into a rage, he’d only asked who the other person was, whether I’d thrown away everything he gave me, and whether I still had money.

“He said, ‘A cat that runs away can be caught. A person who leaves—you just let them go.'”

She sighed, muttered something about him being too much of a coward, and hung up.

I had nothing to say.

But the System snorted coldly for no reason.

For once, I asked if I’d been too mean to Ethan.

It laughed bitterly. [Come on. Bring that box inside. I’ll show you how to take out the four trackers inside.]

[Then go right outside your door and drag Ethan out. He’s been squatting there for an hour.]

I actually did find four devices inside.

I stormed to the stairwell corner.

Ethan was there, leaning against the wall. The screen light lit up his tired, restrained face.

When he saw me, he moved forward instinctively, then forced himself to stop.

He said, “Did you read the document? If anything’s not to your satisfaction—”

I slapped the trackers into his hand.

He stared at them, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

I cut straight to the point, “You know I’m not a cat now, right?”

He opened his mouth.

The cheap motel’s fluorescent light caught the dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in ages.

Finally, he gave up on explanations.

“…Yes. I figured it out. About a month ago.”

I did the math quickly. That was even earlier than the System item.

He straightened up—tall, long-legged, towering over me.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know that doesn’t mean much. But I really didn’t know you were human at first…”

“When I first started seeing clearly, I was terrified. Even my memories told me you were a real person. I couldn’t even tell if it was another hallucination. So I didn’t tell you.”

I watched him lay himself bare. His collar was slightly askew.

My voice came out cold and hard. “You didn’t dare tell me for a whole month?”

His throat bobbed.

“At first I was scared. Later… I was scared you’d hate me.”

Silence. Then, he apologized again. “I’m sorry. I know nothing I say can make up for it.”

Frustration welled up inside me.

I lifted my chin.

“Don’t apologize. We’re even.

“I only got close to you because someone promised to pay me.”

It sounded like a ridiculous excuse.

But with my serious expression, Ethan had to consider it.

I thought he’d ask a dozen questions.

Instead, his voice dry, he asked, “How much?”

I told him, “A million.”

He paused.

Then he moved. He pulled the cold, expensive watch off his wrist, took my hand without a word, and fastened it around it.

Under my confused gaze, his thumb brushed gently over my wrist.

He looked at me.

“Now, setting that million aside, do you still want to see me again?

“Can we… start over?”