CHAPTER 5

     CHARITY woke up with an eerie feeling, as if unseen eyes were watching her. But when she opened her eyes, there was no one there. She quickly sat up and glanced at the cheap wristwatch she wore, a gift from Georgia. It was already five in the afternoon. She had slept for hours. Shaking off her drowsiness, she decided to take a walk by the beach and watch the sunset.

     A cool breeze brushed against her skin, making her wrap her arms around herself. She smiled, enjoying the sensation. But as she neared the water, she suddenly halted—someone was swimming in the sea. A strange fear crept over her. A stranger? That couldn’t be. Isla Silvestre was exclusive to the Silvestres, according to Servant Kim. Her anxiety faded when the swimmer emerged from the water.

     It was Cameron.

     Gosh! He is so damn gorgeous.

     Their eyes met as he walked toward the shore. Charity nearly gaped at the sight of him—tall, strong, and glistening with seawater. She couldn’t help but wonder what their children would look like. He stood before her, dark and striking, almost bare. His toned physique was on full display, clad only in bikini trunks. A large dragon tattoo curled from the side of his neck, trailing down his entire right arm, ending just above his wrist. She had to admit—it made him look even more dangerously attractive. She wanted to know the story behind it.

      Her gaze lingered on the water droplets sliding down his chest like tiny diamonds. His usual expression remained—no smile, just furrowed brows, as if he was always irritated. His eyes, cold as ice, sent a chill through her every time they locked onto hers. Then, like a bolt of lightning, realization struck.

      He looked familiar.

      Memories from six years ago flooded back. She struggled to recall the face of the man who had saved her in that dark alley. The image became clearer. She remembered those cold eyes from that night. That was the only thing she had to identify the stranger she had once considered her knight in shining armor. She wanted to ask, to confirm her suspicion, but her voice faltered under the weight of her emotions.

     "You’re looking at me like you’ve seen a ghost," Cameron said coolly, running his fingers through his wet hair.

     Charity found the gesture effortlessly perfect.

     I see. He doesn’t remember me, she thought. If he did, he would have said something by now—or maybe, like her, he had only just recognized her.

    "I-I just remembered something..." she stammered, watching him stand before her, hands on his hips.

     The world was indeed small. The boy who had never left her thoughts was now standing before her after all these years. She caught the slight twitch of Cameron’s lips, but he said nothing. His gaze held no recognition, just indifference, as if she were nothing more than a speck of dust in his path. That made her hesitate to reveal herself.

     "Where’s Servant Kim?" Charity asked, shifting the conversation.

    "They left."

     Charity froze. "You mean… it’s just you and me on this island?"

    "Why?" His lips curled into a smirk. "Do we need an audience while making the baby?"

     Her cheeks flamed red. She bit her lower lip in embarrassment.

     Cameron’s smirk deepened, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "Charity. We’ll make the baby in every corner of this island."

     Her eyes widened in shock at his teasing words.

    "Shall we start here?" he taunted, stepping toward her.

     Charity instinctively took a step back, her heart hammering in both fear and anticipation. Cameron reached out, tilting her chin up, forcing their gazes to meet.

     Lust.

     She saw it in his eyes—a desire that sent an unexpected thrill through her. At least he found her desirable.

    "You look better with your bare face," he murmured, his voice devoid of emotion.

      Her heart leaped. She felt the sudden stampede of emotions within her.

      Then, to her surprise, his lips brushed against hers. The kiss was teasing, unhurried. Charity found herself gripping the back of his neck, unconsciously leaning into him.

     This is it! her mind screamed.

     But then, he stopped.

     Cameron pulled away, studying her. Embarrassed, Charity immediately withdrew her hands and cast her gaze downward, trying to hide her flushed cheeks. Cameron, however, found himself fascinated. Her innocence made her even more alluring. He was stunned by his own desire to claim her lips again. But he held back. He wanted to take his time with her. She would carry and give birth to the next heir of their family. And yes, Charity was the perfect choice. His father would approve.

      If it were up to him, he would never choose to have a child. But this was what his father wanted, and he had no choice but to obey.

    "Wait, I think I need to use the restroom, " Charity blurted, before turning on her heel and dashing away.

     Of course, he knew it. That was her excuse to escape him.

    "What a lame excuse..." he muttered.

    Charity slowed down, glancing back to make sure Cameron wasn’t following her. She hid by the side of the white house, trying to catch her breath. Absentmindedly, she touched her lips, still tingling from his kiss. She had really thought something was going to happen between them. She wasn’t sure why he had stopped, but she was grateful. She wasn’t ready.

     Truthfully, the moment she realized Cameron was the same boy who had saved her years ago, she almost didn’t care if he claimed her. It would be her way of repaying him for saving her that night. Better to give herself to Cameron than to the two beasts who had tried to violate her in that alleyway… or worse, her depraved uncle. At least with Cameron, she wouldn’t feel so lost. And she would still get two million pesos.

     "It’s just sad that he doesn’t remember me," she muttered, sitting on the exposed roots of a coconut tree.

     Cameron had changed so much. He had grown bigger, more powerful—but his eyes had grown even colder. It was like staring into a void.

     Would she ever see life in his eyes again?

     As the sky darkened, Charity made her way back to the house. The silence inside was almost deafening. She climbed the stairs to her designated room and decided to take a shower. After freshening up, hunger gnawed at her stomach, so she headed to the kitchen. The pantry was stocked, but nothing was prepared. She hesitated, unsure if she was allowed to cook.

    "You can cook whatever you want."

     Charity nearly jumped at the deep voice.

     Cameron stood at the doorway, once again shirtless—but this time, wearing white shorts.

    Why did she suddenly have the urge to touch his bare chest?

     Calm down, Charity! Keep your dignity intact! she scolded herself. She tore her eyes away and focused on choosing something to cook. She couldn’t let Cameron notice how flustered she was. She knew how to cook—growing up independent had taught her that. From the corner of her eye, she saw Cameron leaning against the doorframe, watching her every move.

She suddenly felt self-conscious in her thin, spaghetti-strap dress that barely reached her knees.

   "I want to eat," Cameron said huskily.

    She paused, glancing at him. "I’m cooking now. Can you wait?"

   "No. I mean—I want to eat you, Charity. I want to taste you down there."

    Her eyes widened in shock.

   "W-what…?"

    Her grip on the frying pan faltered as Cameron took a step closer, hunger—of a different kind—written all over his face.