The drive back to Alabang was long and silent.
Raindrops drummed steadily on the roof of the SUV as we sped through Manila's darkened streets.
I sat curled against the window, hugging my bag to my chest like a life vest. The city lights blurred into streaks of color through the glass.
My mind kept replaying the last few hours like a nightmare stuck on a loop:
• Jules's face twisted in anger.
• Bianca's tearful whispers.
• Lance slamming Jules into the wall.
• My own voice screaming that I never wanted to see them again.
A small voice in my head kept whispering:
What the hell have you done, Maya?
Lance sat beside me, staring straight ahead, his jaw tight.
He hadn't spoken since we left Quezon City.
Marco drove in his usual silence, as steady and silent as a machine.
I glanced at Lance.
He looked like he belonged in a magazine spread: sharp suit, perfect hair, impossibly calm expression.
Meanwhile, I probably looked like a drowned rat in my rain-soaked blouse and tangled hair.
Finally, I broke the silence.
"So… where exactly are we going?" I croaked, my voice raw from crying.
Lance turned his head slightly.
"To my house," he said simply. "Your house, now."
I blinked at him.
"My house?" I repeated, the words tasting foreign on my tongue.
"Yes," he said. "Until this contract ends, you live with me."
I let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Right. Because everything about this is completely normal."
He glanced at me, one corner of his mouth twitching as though he might smile.
"Normal is boring," he said. "You'll get used to it."
I shook my head.
"I don't think I'll ever get used to any of this."
"Try," he said. "Because my mother's expecting to meet you again soon. And we have to be convincing."
My chest tightened.
"Convincing," I echoed. "Like… how convincing?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"You'll have to look at me like I'm the man you're madly in love with."
My cheeks burned.
"I don't even know you!" I protested.
"That's what practice is for," he said, unfazed.
Marco cleared his throat softly from the driver's seat.
"We're arriving in three minutes, sir."
Lance nodded.
He turned back to me.
"Do me a favor. When we go inside, try not to look like you're being dragged to your own funeral."
I glared at him.
"Kind of hard when my entire life just imploded."
He leaned closer, his voice low.
"Trust me, Maya. This is the start of your new life."
I stared at him, struggling to decide whether to laugh or cry.
The SUV finally pulled through massive iron gates into a private village.
My jaw dropped as I stared out the window.
Neat rows of palm trees lined both sides of the road. Giant mansions rose behind tall stone fences, their facades lit by elegant garden lamps. The roads were so clean it almost felt like a different country.
"This… this is Ayala Alabang?" I whispered.
"Yes," Lance said calmly. "It's safe. Secure. And private. No one can bother you here."
Marco turned into a wide driveway lined with perfectly manicured hedges.
A sprawling mansion loomed at the end, painted a soft cream color, lights glowing warmly in every window.
It looked like something off a teleserye set—marble columns, enormous wooden doors, and a driveway large enough to park a dozen cars.
The car stopped near the steps.
Lance got out first.
He reached back into the car, offering me his hand.
"Ready?" he asked quietly.
I stared at his outstretched hand, my heart thudding.
This is really happening.
Slowly, I placed my hand in his.
His grip was warm and steady as he helped me out of the SUV.
Rain still fell softly, drizzling over the quiet, dimly lit street.
A team of household staff was already waiting under umbrellas near the front steps.
One of them, a petite woman in a navy uniform, stepped forward.
"Good evening, sir," she said with a respectful bow. "Ma'am."
I blinked at her.
Ma'am? That's me now?
Lance leaned closer and whispered in my ear.
"From this moment forward, everyone believes we're a real married couple. Understand?"
I swallowed hard and nodded.
We climbed the steps.
As soon as we reached the top, a man in a suit opened the huge double doors.
Warm yellow light spilled out into the night.
I took one shaky breath… and stepped inside.
The interior of the house took my breath away.
Cream-colored marble floors stretched out beneath a high ceiling adorned with a massive crystal chandelier.
Rich wooden furniture gleamed under soft lights. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of a landscaped garden, even shimmering with raindrops outside.
The entire place smelled like polished wood, expensive candles, and something faintly floral.
I stared around me, dazed.
"This… this is your house?" I whispered.
"Our house," Lance corrected smoothly.
He gestured for me to follow him.
As we walked deeper into the mansion, he spoke over his shoulder.
"I'll show you your room."
I frowned.
"You said we were sharing a bedroom."
He paused, then turned and gave me a small, almost sheepish smile.
"I lied. I have a guest room prepared for you. I figured you'd appreciate some space the first night."
My chest loosened slightly.
"That's… actually decent of you."
He smirked.
"Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain."
I snorted.
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it."
He led me down a long hallway lined with framed artwork and soft wall sconces.
Finally, he stopped in front of a carved wooden door.
He pushed it open, revealing a bedroom that was bigger than my entire old apartment.
A king-sized bed sat in the center, draped in white linens. A flat-screen TV hung on the wall. A vanity table stood by the window, flanked by soft curtains.
I stepped inside and let out a shaky laugh.
"There's… a chandelier in the bathroom," I said.
Lance raised a brow.
"And?"
I threw my hands up.
"Who needs a chandelier in the bathroom?!"
He shrugged.
"Rich people."
Despite everything, a small, hysterical giggle slipped out of me.
He watched me for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Feel free to rest," he said. "I'll have your things brought up. Tomorrow, we start working on your new wardrobe. And practicing how to fool my mother."
I sank down onto the edge of the bed, exhausted.
Lance lingered in the doorway.
"Goodnight, Maya," he said softly.
Then he turned and left, pulling the door shut behind him.
For a moment, I just sat there in the silent, opulent room, staring at the patterns in the marble floor.
I'm living in a billionaire's mansion.
And I'm his fake wife.
Suddenly, the dam broke.
I buried my face in my hands and began to sob.