CHAPTER 3

Shivering from the cold, Rhea blindly reached out, trying to find the electric fan’s button to switch it off. But no matter how hard she groped around, her hand met nothing. Frustrated, she forced her heavy eyelids open despite still feeling drowsy. As she sat up, a wave of shock hit her. She wasn’t in her apartment.

She straightened her back on the bed, trying to piece together what had happened the day before. Then it all came rushing back. She had almost taken her own life. But fate, as if mocking her, simply made her lose consciousness instead. Maybe it truly wasn’t her time yet. She had let herself drown in grief after one devastating news followed another.

“Wait… where am I?” she muttered to herself, glancing around the unfamiliar room. A nervous laugh escaped her lips. She must have looked crazy talking to herself, but that was just her way of coping when she felt anxious.

She was about to get off the bed when her eyes landed on her state of undress. She was wearing nothing but her bra and panties. Horror washed over her. Oh my god! Who stripped me? Did something happen to me? she screamed inwardly, too terrified to voice it aloud in case the culprit was still nearby.

She grabbed the blanket and wrapped it tightly around her body, then stood up and walked toward a picture frame that had caught her eye earlier. It was resting on a small table near a door. She picked it up and confirmed her suspicion. It was a family portrait of a complete and happy family. She stared at their beaming faces, their eyes twinkling with joy, and couldn't help but feel a sting of envy. If her father and brother hadn’t died, maybe her family would still look that happy, still smiling together like this.

“You’re awake!” a deep baritone voice suddenly rang out from behind, making her stiffen where she stood. A chill ran down her spine, not from the cold, but from the stranger’s voice.

Slowly, she turned around. Standing before her was a man who looked like a living Adonis. He was tall, around six feet, with sharp features, bronze skin, dark tousled hair, and thin red lips that seemed criminally kissable. Oh god, why am I thinking like this? she mentally slapped herself.

Then she noticed he was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets still clung to his skin, fresh from a shower. Yet instead of fear, she had stupidly taken the time to admire his body.

“Aaaah! Rape! Help! Somebody help me!” she screamed, scrambling back toward the bed. She couldn’t flee the room; she had no idea where she was or how to escape.

The man looked completely stunned by her reaction, but rushed after her, his reflexes lightning fast. Before she could climb back onto the bed, he caught the edge of the blanket wrapped around her. As she struggled, he tripped, his hand clutching both her arm and the blanket, which unraveled and flew off her body. In an instant, they both fell onto the bed, her bare skin exposed.

“AAAH! YOU!” she shrieked, panic gripping her. He was now lying on top of her.

“Shit! Stop screaming, you idiot!” he snapped, covering her mouth with his hand, his eyes narrowing in annoyance.

But then his voice shifted, softening into a higher, exaggerated tone that made her eyes widen even more.

“Oh my god!” she gasped. No way...

“You’re gay?!” she blurted out without thinking.

“Me? Gay? Uh, no, darling. I’m a woman, duh!” he retorted sassily.

Confirmed, she thought. This one is part of the federation.

Before she could process more, the door burst open with a bang. An elderly man stormed in, brandishing a knife, followed by a woman who struck a dramatic superhero pose, raising one hand like Darna while the other rested on her waist.

“Where’s the culprit?! Who’s the rapist?!” the old man roared, his eyes darting across the room.

A knife? Seriously? Rhea’s mind raced. Were they here to kill me or him?

“Don’t worry, Darna is here!” the woman declared proudly, mimicking the famous heroine.

Three girls trailed in behind them, each armed with arnis sticks and looking ready to fight. They were short, leading Rhea to think they might be high schoolers, though she was short, so who was she to judge?

“Kuya slash Ate! We’re here to save you from the rapist!” the trio shouted together, eyes blazing with determination.

Kuya slash Ate? Were they referring to the person on top of her? She squinted at them, then back at him. Suddenly, it all made sense. Their faces were the same ones from the family portrait she’d seen earlier. She was definitely in his family's home.

Both she and the stranger glanced at each other, realization dawning simultaneously. He was still on top of her, still half naked, while she was in nothing but her undergarments. No wonder she felt his weight. The mortification made her squeeze her eyes shut just as she heard the clatter of weapons hitting the floor.

When she dared to peek again, the knife and arnis sticks were scattered, while all the intruders stood frozen, eyes wide, mouths agape. The old man was the first to break the silence.

“I’m proud of you, son! I thought something horrible was happening, but here you are bringing home a woman! Well done! Your grandfather would be proud!” he grinned.

What the actual hell? Rhea thought, appalled.

“Lucas Villareal! What is the meaning of this? Why are you like that in front of a woman? Were you trying to rape her?!” the Darna-posing woman demanded, her voice sharp.

So that’s his name, Lucas Villareal, Rhea mentally noted. Villareal… why does that sound familiar? But her thoughts were interrupted by more pressing concerns.

“OMG! Kuya slash Ate is straight now!” the three girls squealed, jumping excitedly.

“OF COURSE NOT, MA! What are you even saying?!” Lucas snapped, his exasperation evident.

“Oh really? Then explain why you’re half naked and on top of her!” his mother shot back.

Lucas’s gaze flew to Rhea, just as hers met his. His horrified expression mirrored her embarrassment. He immediately jumped off the bed, clutching his towel tightly.

Rhea, still red-faced, quickly pulled the blanket to cover herself again, glaring at Lucas, who returned her glare with an indignant scowl.

“Tsk, perverted gay,” she muttered under her breath, making sure only she could hear.

Lucas let out a long sigh. “It’s not what you think, Mom,” he began, irritation lacing his voice. “I’m still gay, sirena, badaf, whatever you want to call it. Mang Tomas and I found her unconscious on the highway last night. Since I’m a good daughter and a philanthropist, mind you, I brought her home to help her. But seriously, why are you all here? I thought you were still abroad and coming back on Saturday?”

He then turned to his sisters. “And you three? Why are you here already? Isn’t it still Friday?”

Lucia, the feistiest sibling, raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me, Mr. I’m Straight Now, but it’s already Saturday. We arrived yesterday, not that you noticed.”

“What? It’s Saturday?” Lucas asked, stunned. They all nodded.

Oh crap, I have a meeting with Grandpa this afternoon! I thought that was tomorrow, Lucas cursed internally.

Their father cleared his throat, snapping him back to the moment. “Lucas Villareal, fix yourself and come to my office after,” he commanded sternly, his earlier playful mood gone. Then he and his wife left the room.

He was smiling earlier. Why so serious now? Lucas wondered uneasily. Could it be about the company?

Luciana then teased, “Kuya, better get dressed. Breakfast has been waiting.”

She glanced slyly at Rhea. “And sis, just a reminder, lock the bathroom door tight. My brother peeks, even if he’s gay,” she said with a playful wink before dashing out, laughing.

“LUCIANA!” Lucas bellowed after her, his face heating in anger. How many times do I have to say I’m a woman? Well… fifty-fifty woman, but still!

Fuming, he stomped toward his walk-in closet, leaving Rhea sitting in the middle of the room, still overwhelmed by everything that had just transpired.