Ruthless: Nicholas Buenaventura (Tagalog)

Charlotte’s POV

I pushed his hand away again, forcing a tight smile as I kept my eyes forward.

“Alexander,” I whispered, my voice low but firm, “we’re not alone.”

“I can see that,” he murmured, completely unfazed.

His fingers slipped right back to my waist like I hadn’t just warned him, like we weren’t seated in the middle of a crowded hall filled with business elites, investors, and close associates. The soft glow of chandeliers reflected off polished marble floors, laughter and polite conversations floating through the air. It was a formal event, important enough that appearances mattered.

And yet, my husband seemed determined to forget all of that.

I shifted slightly in my seat, trying to create space between us without drawing attention. “Behave,” I added under my breath, glancing sideways at him.

He leaned closer instead.

My breath caught for a second as his lips hovered near my ear, his voice dropping into something dangerously intimate.

“You look too good tonight,” he said quietly. “I’ve been trying to behave for the past hour.”

Heat crept up my neck despite myself. I hated how easily he could do this—how effortlessly he could unravel my composure with just a few words.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered.

“And you like it,” he replied smoothly.

I turned to glare at him, but the moment I met his eyes, I lost whatever argument I was about to make. There was something in his gaze—intense, focused, unapologetically fixed on me—that made it hard to breathe normally.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I said, softer now.

“Like what?”

“Like…” I hesitated, then looked away. “Like you’re not in a room full of people.”

He chuckled quietly, clearly amused. “That’s because I’m not thinking about them.”

My heart thudded once, hard against my chest. I shouldn’t have let that affect me. I knew that but I did.

His thumb brushed lightly against my side, slow and deliberate this time, and I had to press my lips together to stop myself from reacting.

“Alexander,” I warned again, though it came out weaker than before.

“What?” he asked, almost innocently.

“You’re distracting me.”

“That’s the point.”

I exhaled sharply, trying to focus on the event again, on the speaker at the front of the hall, on anything that would ground me. But it was useless. Every subtle movement from him, every quiet word, every glance—it all pulled my attention right back.

“You’re not even listening to anything going on,” I said.

“I came here with you,” he replied. “That’s enough.”

I turned to him again, this time unable to hide the slight smile tugging at my lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet you married me.” 

Before I could respond, his voice dropped again, softer, more serious this time. “Let’s leave.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Let’s leave,” he repeated, his gaze steady on mine. “We’ve shown our faces. We’ve done what we’re supposed to do.”

I hesitated, glancing around the hall. People were still talking, laughing, and networking. It would be noticeable if we left too early.

“We can’t just walk out,” I said. “It’s rude.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying me. “Since when do you care about being rude?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. He had a point. Still, I tried one last time. “It’s your friend’s event.”

“He won’t mind,” Alexander said calmly. “And even if he does, I’ll deal with it.”

My resolve cracked. I didn’t even try to pretend otherwise.

“Fine,” I said, exhaling softly. “But we’re not making a scene.”

A small, satisfied smile appeared on his lips. “We won’t.”

He stood first, offering me his hand like the perfect gentleman. Anyone watching would think we were simply stepping out for a moment.

No one would guess what was really behind it.

I placed my hand in his and stood, smoothing down my dress as we made our way out of the hall. My pulse was already racing, anticipation building with every step.

By the time we reached the room, the tension had already settled deep in my chest.

The door barely closed behind us before everything shifted.

The careful composure I had held all evening slipped away, replaced by something warmer, something more urgent.

Alexander stepped closer, his gaze still locked on mine, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he reached for me and just like that, the world outside that room disappeared.

At some point, when the room had fallen into a softer silence, when everything slowed and the tension shifted into something calmer, he spoke again.

“Charlotte,” he said quietly.

I turned my head slightly to look at him. “Hmm?”

There was a brief pause before he continued, his expression more thoughtful than before.

“Do you think…” He hesitated, then let out a small breath. “Do you think we should stop waiting?”

I frowned slightly. “Waiting for what?”

He held my gaze. “A baby.”

The words settled between us and my heart skipped once.

“We said we’d wait,” I reminded him gently. “Six months. We agreed.”

“I know,” he said. “And we have.”

I didn’t respond immediately.

He shifted slightly, propping himself up just enough to look at me properly. “I just think… maybe it’s time.”

I looked away for a moment, my thoughts racing. ‘A baby.’

It wasn’t like we hadn’t talked about it before. We had, many times. Always casually, always as something for the future.

But now the future is here. “Alexander…” I started, unsure how to phrase what I was feeling.

“I’m not forcing you,” he added quickly. “I just—” He paused. “I want it. With you.”

That did it.I looked back at him, searching his face. There was sincerity there. No games, no teasing this time.

I exhaled slowly. “You’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

Another pause then I nodded, just slightly. “Okay.”

The shift in his expression was immediate, something softer, almost relieved.

———

“Mrs. Voss?” The voice cut through my thoughts like a sharp blade.

“Mrs. Voss.” I blinked.

“Charlotte.” I flinched slightly as reality snapped back into place.

I was no longer in that hotel room. I was sitting in a chair, across from a desk, under bright fluorescent lights.

The doctor was staring at me, concern evident on his face. “I’ve been calling your name,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured quickly, straightening in my seat. “I was just… distracted.” 

That was an understatement.

He nodded slowly, though his expression remained observant. “I can see that.”

I clasped my hands together in my lap, trying to steady myself.

Six months.

It's been six months since that night. Been six months of trying and six months of waiting yet, nothing.

The doctor glanced down at the file in front of him before looking back at me. “As I’ve told you before, all your tests are coming back normal.”

I swallowed. ‘Normal.’ That word was starting to feel like a curse.

“There’s no indication of infertility,” he continued calmly. “Sometimes, these things just take time.”

Time, Patience,Hope. I had heard it all before.

“I understand,” I said quietly, even though frustration pressed heavily against my chest.

He gave me a small, reassuring smile. “Try not to stress yourself. It doesn’t help.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I believed that.

After a few more words, the appointment ended like all the others—without answers.

I walked out of the hospital feeling heavier than when I had entered.

—

By the time I got home, the silence of the house felt louder than usual.

The maid greeted me politely, but I barely registered it as I moved toward the kitchen.

I didn’t know why I decided to cook. We had staff for that. I rarely needed to lift a finger.

But tonight, I needed something to do. Something to distract myself.

As I stood there, chopping vegetables with more force than necessary, my thoughts drifted again.

It had been a year since I married Alexander. A year of learning him, understanding him, building a life together and six months of trying to have a child.

I paused, gripping the edge of the counter as a memory surfaced.

“You’ll give me a whole football team, right?” I had laughed when he said that, nudging him lightly. “Slow down. Let’s start with one.”

“One?” he had echoed, mock disappointment in his voice. “I was thinking of at least five.”

“Five?” I had gasped, laughing harder. “You’re the one carrying them then.”

He had pulled me closer, smiling in that way that always made my heart skip. “If I could, I would. But since I can’t… I’m trusting you.”

“I’ll give you many sons,” I had teased.

The memory faded, leaving behind a dull ache. My grip on the knife tightened, my thoughts spiraling again, until—

“Ah!” I hissed as heat brushed too close to my skin, snapping me back to the present. I had nearly burned myself.

I quickly pulled my hand away, my heart racing.

“Focus, Charlotte. Focus on making dinner.” I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to calm down.

By the time everything was ready, the house had settled into its usual quiet rhythm. All that was left was to wait for him.

I glanced at the clock and saw he was late again.

I told myself it was fine. It always was. His work demanded his time, and I understood that. I had always understood that.

Still, a small part of me hoped tonight would be different. That he would come home, sit with me, maybe ask about my day. Maybe notice my mood.

The sound of the door opening pulled me from my thoughts. My heart lifted slightly as I stepped out of the kitchen.

“Alexander, you’re back—” The words died in my throat when he didn’t look at me.

He walked past me like I wasn’t even there. No greeting or acknowledgment.

I stood frozen for a moment, confusion settling in. “Alexander?” I called softly and still no response.

He loosened his tie as he walked, his expression tight, his movements sharp.Something was obviously wrong.

I took a cautious step forward. “Is everything okay?”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t even slow down and just kept walking.

And just like that, the warmth I had been holding onto all evening disappeared completely.