Chapter 5

The next two weeks were an absolute blur of academic torture and emotional distraction. Linden survived her statistics mid-term by the skin of her teeth, but her mind was chronically compromised. Every time she sat in her evening lectures, staring at complex data distributions and behavioral charts, her brain kept thinking a pair of sharp eyes and a broad, charcoal-clad frame over the chalkboard.

And then there was the journal.

"Lecheng Evren 'yon. Bakit ba hindi siya maalis sa isip ko?" reklamo niya sa sarili. "Kung bakit kasi mukha siyang AI at hindi normal!"

With Evren back at sea, at ginagawang kapitbahay ang dagat, their written exchange had shifted from playful banter into something profoundly unedited and dangerously addictive. The leather-bound notebook on the kitchen island had become a battlefield of wits and unadulterated tension.

E,

Lucifer had another aggressive episode today because I forgot and wore a dark wine-red scrunchie in my hair. He hissed at me from the top of the refrigerator. I had to de-escalate the situation by bribing him with the dehydrated duck hearts you left in the pantry. You’re spoiling them too much, Evren. It creates an artificial sense of entitlement.

Also, your estate manager keeps looking at me like he knows I used your shower. It’s highly unsettling.

— Linden

The response that appeared two days later, written in that thick, aggressive black ink, made her drop her pen in the middle of a quiet study session.

Doctor,

Lucifer doesn't hate red. He’s just possessive. Like his owner, he doesn't like sharing things that catch his attention. Tell Harrison to mind his own business. If I don't mind you using my shower, no one else gets a say. In fact, I left a new bottle of imported French lavender oil in the cabinet. Try it. I want to know if it smells as good on your skin as the sandalwood did.

And stop wearing red around the house. Save that color for me when I get back.

— E.

"Bakit kasi doon siya naliligo dala yung soap na 'yon? Pwede namang sa sarili niyang master bedroom. Naaamoy tuloy ni Mr. Harrison kapag trip ko gamitin," Linden mumured to herself.

Linden had stared at the page for a full five minutes, her cheeks burning so hot she had to press her cold hands against them.

Sutil. Malandi.

The man was hundreds of miles away on a luxury cruise ship in the middle of the ocean, yet he could make her feel completely breathless with just a few strokes of a pen.

"Alam kong malandi si Evren. Pero bakit parang gustong-gusto ko naman?" aniya. "Talaga bang papatol siya sa katulad kong broke at handang magbenta ng kidney? Wala bang maganda sa trabaho niya?"

By the time the end of the second week rolled around, Linden was practically vibrating with anticipation. She knew his schedule. He was supposed to be at sea for another fourteen days. It was a Thursday afternoon, around 3:30 pm, and she was sitting on the living room floor, surrounded by three different textbooks, while Winston lazily used her thigh as a pillow.

The house was completely silent, save for the soft classical piano music she had turned on to keep Siam calm. The grand grandfather clock in the hallway ticked rhythmically.

Suddenly, the security panel by the front door beeped loudly, signaling an entry code.

Linden’s head snapped up. Mr. Harrison never came in through the front door without knocking, and the evening caretaker, which is Evren himself, wasn't due until 6 pm. If he can't come during the night, according to Evren, ay ipinapaubaya niya sa isang labanderang kapitbahay niya na mahilig sa pusa na alagaan ang pusa niya sa gabi until all cats fell asleep. Mr. Harrison works 8 hours during the day only so he wouldn't know what's happening during the night. Although the mansion have securities at night, Evren personally instructed them not to tell anything to Mr. Harrison.

Hindi alam ni Linden kung bakit pero hindi na niya inusisa pa.

The heavy door swung open, and the bright afternoon sunlight poured into the foyer, outlining a massive, familiar silhouette.

Si Evren.

Evren stepped inside. He was wearing his crisp, white chef’s uniform, the collar slightly unbuttoned, revealing the hard lines of his collarbone. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick, vascular forearms covered in faint kitchen scars. He looked exhausted, with dark shadows under his eyes, but the moment his gaze scanned the living room and landed on Linden, his entire posture locked into place.

Linden scrambled to her feet, accidentally dumping a disgruntled Winston onto the rug. "Evren? I mean—Sir Evren. Ano'ng ginagawa ninyo dito? Wala pang 6 pm."

Evren didn't say a word. He slammed the heavy door shut behind him, dropped his keys onto the console table with a loud clatter, and marched straight toward her. There was an intense, predatory focus in his eyes that made Linden’s breath completely stall in her throat.

"I pulled a double shift," Evren said, his voice raw, gravelly, and heavy with exhaustion as he stopped right in front of her. "I stayed awake for thirty-six hours straight prepping a gala dinner for seven hundred passengers, just so I could hand over the kitchen to my sous-chef and catch an early flight back."

"Oh. So, wala ka dito 2 nights straight. Si Tita Linda ba ulit pinag-alaga mo sa gabi?"

"Yeah."

Linden took a half-step back, her heart racing. "So, bakit maaga ka? May emergency ba sa mansyon?"

Evren reached out, his large, warm hands instantly wrapping around her waist, gripping her firmly through her thin t-shirt and pulling her flushed body against his hard chest. The heat radiating off him was immense.

"No," Evren growled softly, his head dipping down until his lips were brushing against the shell of her ear, his deep voice sending an absolute shockwave of desire straight down her spine. "You're the emergency, Linden. I couldn't spend another fucking day reading your notes without claiming what's mine."