I Saved My Fiancé Before He Became a Billionaire Chapter 09
Under my care-sort of, imperfect but full of love-Elias got better fast, stronger and healthier
every single day.
In just over two short months, he started looking like a real, healthy teenager, not a fragile,
wounded ghost.
His face wasn’t always pale, sickly. Color returned to his cheeks.
His shoulders and back filled out a little, no longer so thin they’d break in wind.
More importantly, he didn’t beg for food constantly, didn’t seem starving every minute.
Relatively speaking, anyway. It was progress.
He still ate a lot, still loved food.
If I didn’t stop him, he’d eat until his stomach hurt, until he felt sick, dizzy.
It was like his body could never feel full, never shake the memory of starvation.
I didn’t have enough money or a real legal identity to take him for more detailed medical tests, so l searched my phone for hours, looking for answers.
One explanation after another pointed to long-term, chronic starvation.
Scared the next meal wouldn’t come, scared to be hungry again, he stuffed himself whenever food was available, couldn’t stop.
My heart stabbed with pain every time I read that, every time I saw him struggle.
So I controlled his meals strictly, gently, firmly.
Three small, healthy meals a day, plus frequent healthy snacks.
I
Every time he stared longingly at the leftover rice, the extra bread, I forced myself to be firm, to say
“Elias, no more. Stop.”
“It’ll hurt your stomach badly. You’ll be in pain. I don’t want that for you.”
He didn’t argue, didn’t complain. Never.
Just washed the dishes quietly and went back to studying, wordless.
The quieter he was, the worse I felt, the guiltier I was.
As my account balance dropped lower and lower, panic grew inside me, cold and heavy.
That cursed multiplier hung over me like a sharp knife, waiting to fall.
I realized more and more clearly, with every passing day: I was probably going to leave soon. Any
day now.
At first, the feeling was faint, easy to ignore.
Then it got stronger, impossible to miss.
Until I couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there.
But I hadn’t seen Noah and his cruel friends get punished.
Haven’t seen Elias truly break free from the Blackwoods, gain his freedom.
Haven’t watched him live even one peaceful, happy, safe day as a teenager.
The day the feeling became unbearable, too strong to ignore, I changed clothes quietly and walked to St. Raven to pick him up from school.
It was sad, really, how poor I was here.
My only real, complete outfit was the one I’d arrived in from the future.
Most days, I wore Elias’s old soft shirts and altered uniform pants.
The most tragic, mismatched couple’s outfit ever.
I stood at the school gate and waited patiently.
Students came out at first, laughing and talking.
Then fewer and fewer, until the campus was quiet.
Even the security guard at the gate stared at me several times, curious and suspicious.
But Elias never came. Not a sign of him.
Anxiety exploded in my chest, sharp and terrifying.
I ran as fast as I could to the back alley where I’d first found him, my heart pounding.
Sure enough.
Same place. Same faces. Same horrible scene.
Noah and his friends had Elias trapped deep in the dark alley, cornered.
My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears.
Elias saw me immediately, his eyes locking onto mine.
His tense, painful expression softened for a single second. Then he gave me a small, reassuring smile, trying to calm me.
Like he was telling me not to worry, that he could handle it.
But the healthy color I’d helped him gain, the strength I’d nurtured-all gone, replaced by new cuts, new bruises.
His forehead was bleeding, fresh blood trickling down.
There was bright blood at the corner of his mouth, from a fresh cut.
I reached for my phone immediately to call 911 again, ready to repeat my old trick.
A dull, heavy thud sounded ahead, sharp and painful.
Noah kicked Elias hard behind the knee, bringing him to his knees. Then he turned and grinned at me provocatively, cruelly.
“You protect him so much. It must be because Elias…”
He paused deliberately, letting the dirty implication hang in the air.
His eyes flicked between me and Elias in a disgusting, suggestive way, full of malice.
“How good is he that you can’t stay away? That you defend him like this?”
“Why don’t you give us a try? We’re much better company.”
