I woke up feeling like I had been hit by a freight train. Every muscle in my body was sore, every joint ached as if I had been stretched to the limit. I tried to shift my position, but the effort only made my pain worse. A groan escaped my lips, and I cursed under my breath. This was hell.
Why did I feel like this? The events from last night were a blur, but a few things still managed to stick out. I went out with Kaiser...and then...
Shit.
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I shot out of bed in a panic, but froze in my tracks when I realized I wasn't in my room. The space around me was unfamiliar—way too unfamiliar. The room was massive, almost intimidating, with walls I didn't recognize and a view of the city skyline I was certain had never existed in my own apartment. This wasn't my home. It was a stranger's place. Specifically, a guy's place.
I cursed again, my voice barely more than a whisper as I took in my surroundings. I was in nothing more than a loose black T-shirt and boxer shorts. At least I still had my racerback bra and panties on, which meant...thankfully...nothing untoward had happened. But that didn't help ease the wave of dread in my gut.
What the hell happened last night?
My head throbbed painfully as the fog of the previous evening clouded my thoughts. It felt like I was trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces, and all I could do was guess. Maybe I had gotten into a fight again, gone too far with some gangsters downtown, let my anger and rage get the better of me. It wasn't out of character.
But even as the physical pain pulsed in my body, it didn't compare to the unrelenting ache in my chest. The kind of ache that gripped my heart with icy fingers, the kind that could paralyze you from the inside out. It wasn't just sadness; it was rage and emptiness, all tangled up in a feeling of being utterly, completely alone. A demonic, gnawing feeling that made you want to hurt someone—maybe even yourself—just to let go of the agony.
That must have been what happened last night. I lost control. The demon inside me broke free.
But I couldn't afford to think too much about it. Not right now. I needed to focus.
I stumbled toward the bathroom, hoping for some clarity. The space was luxurious, bigger than I had expected. A jacuzzi sat in one corner, and the shower room was wide enough to fit a small army. Whoever owned this place clearly had more money than sense. It was a far cry from Calyx's condo in New York. Hell, it was even fancier than my own in Manila or Zero's place in London. This place was over the top. But that didn't matter. What mattered was figuring out where I was and what happened last night.
When I stepped in front of the mirror, I almost didn't recognize myself. My straight, blonde hair was now cropped into a pixie cut. Jet black. It wasn't just the hair—it was the bruises that caught my attention. A large cut marred my lip, and my face was swollen. I looked like I'd been through a warzone.
What had happened? I couldn't piece it together. The pain in my face wasn't just physical. It was a reflection of the chaos inside me—the chaos I couldn't escape.
I had read somewhere that physical pain replaces emotional pain, but that was a lie. The physical ache in my body could never erase the cold emptiness in my chest. The hurt I felt there was endless, and it was suffocating. It could paralyze me, or it could fuel me into action.
Either way, I wasn't sure if I could survive it.
After I cleaned myself up as best as I could, I made my way to the kitchen, hoping for some relief in the form of water. My thoughts were a mess, and I needed to steady myself, calm down.
I was reaching for the refrigerator when I heard a cough behind me. My heart stopped, and I froze.
I knew that voice. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"How are you feeling?" His voice was rough, like he had just woken up, or maybe just rolled out of bed—like it didn't matter. Like I didn't matter.
Of course, it was Calyx.
I cursed under my breath. What the hell was he doing here? And did he actually own this place?
My heart beat faster, but I shoved the emotions back. No. Not now. Not when he had just… I bit back the bitter thought of him and Jillian.
I took a deep breath and kept my back turned. I couldn't deal with him. Not now.
I opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, drinking it all in one go. The coolness did nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside me. Once I was done, I turned to face him, prepared for whatever he was going to throw at me.
His jaw tightened as his eyes scanned my face. I saw the flicker of anger in his gaze. He took a step closer, and I felt a rush of anxiety. I took a step back, instinctively, until my back hit the wall. Shit. That wasn't a good idea.
He touched my face gently, brushing his fingers over the bruises on my lips, and I inhaled sharply. His hand felt rough, warm. It made my stomach tighten and my breath hitch.
"Damn it, Calyx, stop," I muttered, trying to pull away from him.
It was too late. His hand lingered, tracing the cut, and the touch sent a shiver down my spine. My mind swam with thoughts, memories flooding back in a chaotic rush. The confusion, the resentment, all tangled up. I hated this feeling, hated how it all tangled together. My mind drifted to the moments when I wanted to kiss him, when I couldn't help but stare at him all day. How being his wife felt like some far-off, childish dream. How I longed to feel his lips on mine again.
But I pushed it away. I couldn't think about that. Not now.
Still, my mind betrayed me, racing back to that first kiss. I was only sixteen. We were vacationing in Perth, Australia with my family. It wasn't the first time I'd seen him, but it felt like it. I'd known him since I was eleven, too young to fall for him that quickly. That's why I acted differently around him—bubbly, carefree, even a little annoying, saying things just to get a reaction. I always found his annoyed face more attractive than the one he wore when he was indifferent.
I still remembered the shock on his face the moment I kissed him. I didn't even know what led up to it, just that his lips met mine, soft and unexpected. A quick peck, but it felt like heaven.
And years later, his lips still haunted me, always just out of reach, always so kissable. I shook the thought away. Stop. I shouldn't be thinking about this.
I pulled away from him, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on me. My heart wanted to scream, to demand answers, but my mind was too clouded. The emotions were too raw.
Still, I couldn't help myself. With a fleeting, almost reckless peck on his lips, I darted away, my legs carrying me toward the living room. I knew I was acting irrationally, but Calyx had that effect on me—one I couldn't control.
As soon as I stepped into the living room, my heart stopped.
A man in a sharp three-piece suit stood up. His eyes were dark, unreadable. Eyes that spoke of authority, power. The kind that made my heart race with a mix of dread and something I couldn't name.
And then, he said my name.
I froze. I hadn't seen him in years, never thought I'd see him again—at least not like this, not here.
My legs trembled beneath me, but I forced myself to stand.
"You never told me you had a brother." Calyx's voice broke through the haze, his hand brushing my shoulder lightly as he moved to stand beside me.
I stiffened at the touch, unsure of how to react.
"You never asked,"I replied, the sarcasm thick in my voice. "You weren't interested back then. But I guess you are now."
"What are you doing here?" I spat, my bitterness spilling out before I could stop it.
I guess I understand now whose place this is. Calyx could afford something like this, but he's not the type of man to waste his money on extravagant luxuries. I know the kind of man who would. Someone who feels the need for more, even when they already have everything they could ever want.
Why would he need more?
Sebastian gave me a look, a long, resigned sigh escaping him. "Your brother just wanted to check on you. He couldn't find you last night, and then he found out you'd been beaten up."
Sebastian gave me a look, a long, resigned sigh escaping him.
It was Calyx who spoke next. "Your brother just wanted to check on you. He couldn't find you last night, and then he found out you'd been beaten up."
My stomach twisted at the reminder. It hit me harder than I was prepared for.
"Why do you both care?" I muttered, barely above a whisper, turning to Calyx. "You're just my husband," I said, the words tasting like ash. Though, I could've added that he was my husband, but also the man sleeping with the woman he loved.
Then I looked at Sebastian. "And you... You're just another brother who left me alone."
A tear slipped down my cheek, but I wiped it away quickly, not wanting to show more weakness.
"Severa..." Sebastian's voice softened, regret lacing it.
"Don't, kuya. I can't do this. I don't want to see you again." I shook my head, turning away from him. I couldn't handle it. I ran. I needed to escape.
I bolted for the elevator, praying it would take me far away from the madness. But, of course, Calyx was there, just as always, his presence suffocating.
He grabbed me before the doors could close, pulling me into his arms. It should've felt comforting, but instead, it reminded me of everything that was wrong.
"Why is my life always so complicated?" I whispered under my breath.
My brothers abandoned me when our parents died. They left me with Uncle Brian, without a single word of explanation. Then I got married. To someone I loved, which should've been a good thing—except that Calyx doesn't love me at all. If you're reading any signs of affection from him, trust me, it's not enough to convince me he has feelings for me. The only thing I can count on is his annoyance.
Right now, I can feel his heartbeat—steady, normal. Meanwhile, mine is pounding so hard I think it might give me a heart attack. But in this moment, I don't care. I don't care because right now, his arms around me are all I need. Even if it's just for today, I want to hold onto this moment. I want to savor the feeling of being held by him.
And for now, I'll pretend everything's okay.
He led me back to the room where I'd woken up earlier, and I deliberately avoided my brother still standing in the living room. I could tell Calyx understood that I wasn't ready to face him yet.
"Ouch!" I winced as Calyx pressed into my wounds, the sting sharp and unforgiving. He insisted on cleaning me up again, muttering that I looked awful.
"Hey, can you be a little gentler? It freaking stings!" I protested, but of course, he didn't listen. He applied the cotton with alcohol to the cut on my lip with way too much pressure.
"Fck it, Calyxander!" I cursed, biting my lip as the pain shot through me.
"Tss. Watch your language," he said with a shake of his head, finishing up with my wounds.
The truth was, I was partly acting. It hurt, but I could handle it. It was more the fact that he was so close—his face just an inch away from mine. I could smell the mix of mint and strawberry on him. It was an odd combination—sweet but oddly masculine.
I couldn't help but admire him up close. His face was so perfectly crafted—his furrowed brow, those thick brows, almond-shaped eyes, a nose that seemed to fit perfectly, a little stubble, and his lips… pink and tempting. He was a walking contradiction—cute, handsome, hot, irresistible.
I had to stop myself from leaning in. I felt the familiar urge to kiss him again.
"Don't think about it," he muttered, and I pouted in response. He moved away, standing up and starting to clean up the mess on the mini table.
I watched him, unable to tear my gaze away. His broad shoulders made him look so undeniably masculine, and it was hard for me to stay composed in front of him. My self-control always slipped when he was around. All the years of training myself to be strong, to be tough—they seemed useless in this moment. I couldn't act like I had it all together when he was near. There was something about him that made me want to show him my vulnerability, to reveal the weaknesses I usually kept hidden.
I leaned back against the sofa, closing my eyes to try to gather my thoughts.
But now that we were married, I had to be stronger than ever. I needed to act tougher, more resilient. Because if I didn't, I would lose myself completely. Still, pretending wasn't as easy as I'd hoped. It wasn't just about putting on a mask; it was a constant battle to convince myself that everything was fine when it clearly wasn't.
"Aren't you wondering why I never asked you right away when I saw you what happened to you?" Calyx's voice broke the silence, and my eyes snapped open at the intensity of his question. He looked as serious as always, his usual stern expression, but there was something in his tone that made it clear he genuinely wanted to know.
"Aren't you wondering?" He asked again.
I met his gaze and answered without hesitation, "No."
His brow furrowed as he stared at me, weighing my answer carefully. I couldn't hold his gaze for long—it was too intense, like he was trying to peel back every layer of me, searching for secrets I wasn't ready to reveal.
Finally, I broke the connection, avoiding his eyes.
"Is it okay if I ask you something?" His voice was calm, softer than usual, and it caught me off guard. It wasn't just the question—it was the way he spoke, so composed, almost gentle.
I cleared my throat, shrugging uncertainly. I wasn't sure how to respond, or if I could even answer his questions. I wasn't someone who liked revealing too much.
"What really happened to you?" he asked, his arms still crossed in front of him, his gaze unwavering.
I sighed, feeling the weight of the moment. "You don't have to know, Calyx," I muttered lazily, trying to brush it off.
I couldn't understand why we were talking about me when there were so many more pressing issues at hand. I could ask him about the other woman, about how he could sleep with someone else knowing we were married. If he couldn't control his urges, why didn't he just ask for a divorce? But the thought of letting him go? That felt impossible, even though I knew it was what I should do.
He shook his head, his frustration palpable. "I have the right to know what happened to you, Severa," he said, his voice softer, almost pained. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if gathering himself before speaking again. "I have the right because I'm your husband, and you're my wife."
I stared at him, my confusion deepening. Why was he acting this way? Why did he sound like he actually cared?
"Yes, I'm your wife, Calyx," I replied, my voice steady but filled with exhaustion. "But you don't need to know everything about what happened to me. It's not about your rights as my husband. It's about my right to keep some distance, while I fight for this marriage."
He stared at me, disbelief in his eyes—though I wasn't sure if it was disbelief or something else. I used to be able to read him, to understand what he was thinking through his gaze, but now? Now I couldn't tell. This marriage was tearing me apart. I was lost, confused, unsure of what it would cost me.
If I fought for it, would he fight for me too? Or would he just let me slip away? I didn't know.
I stood up, letting him see just how tired I was—physically, emotionally, and mentally drained.
"I want to fight for this marriage, Calyx. I really do." I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "But I can't keep fighting for something when you're not even willing to fight for me."
He didn't say anything, but I could feel the weight of his silence. It felt like I'd hit him somewhere deep, and for a moment, I wondered if it was because he actually cared.
"But I'm not going to force you to fight for it. You can do whatever you want," I whispered, my words barely audible, yet carrying all the hurt I had been holding inside. "You can screw the girl you want." The words stung, and I hated myself for saying them, even though I knew they were true.
I stood there, my gaze unwavering, making sure he heard every word.
I knew I was complicating everything more than it already was. I'd probably regret being this way later, but right now, I didn't care.
"I don't care, Calyx. I will never care. But I'll fight for this marriage. With or without you."