Chapter 2 Territorial

Three days later…

"Ma'am China, may dumating pong legal envelope mula sa Buenavista Group." Bungad ng guard nila pagpasok niya ng lobby.

Her breath caught as the guard handed her a sleek black envelope with a gold-pressed V logo.

She already knew what it was.

The marriage certificate.

Notarized. Registered. Legal.

China Asuncion was, by all rights, the wife of Gabriel Buenavista.

But no one could know.

"You’re insane," bulong niya sa sarili habang pinagmamasdan ang document na parang susi ng isang selda.

Hindi pa rin siya makapaniwala sa pinasok niya.

One moment, they were two broken people in a stolen night. The next, he was offering her a secret life—hidden behind boardrooms, glass walls, and power plays.

A wife without a ring.

A queen without a crown.

A heart that didn’t know if it was owned or simply… claimed.

Flashback: The Night of the Wedding

The ocean breeze was cold, but his hand was warm as he laced his fingers through hers on the deck of the yacht.

“No cameras. No media. No pressure,” Gabriel said, holding a small black velvet box.

Sa loob ay isang manipis na silver band. Walang brilyante. Walang engraving. Wala man lang pangalan nila.

“Simple,” he said. “Like the kind of love I can afford to give.”

Her chest ached. Ang tindi.

She wanted to protest. She wanted something more. But when she looked into his eyes—damaged and pleading—she saw a kind of truth she couldn't deny.

She said yes.

Back in reality, China stared at her reflection. The same old face. The same soft eyes. But everything had changed.

She was no longer just the assistant. She was Mrs. Gabriel Buenavista.

But he told her, "No one must know. Not yet."

So she just took the ride.No buts.No choice.

Monday. Office. Chaos.

China wore her usual business attire—modest, muted, invisible. As she entered the glass building of Velez Corp, the world continued as if nothing had happened.

No congratulations.

No new title.

No Mr. and Mrs. Buenavista.

Only a memo: “All assistants are to report directly to Mr. Buenavista’s new Chief Operations Liaison.”

China blinked.

New position?

She had been promoted overnight.

But no one knew why.

Pagpasok niya sa opisina ni Gabriel nandoon na siya. Nakasuot ng dark blue suit, hawak ang tablet, at busy sa pag-check ng financial charts. As always, his face was unreadable.

Pero nang lumapit siya, napansin niyang bahagyang lumambot ang mga mata nito. Subtle. Halos hindi halata. Pero China knew better.

"You got the envelope?" tanong nito, hindi tumitingin.

"Yes."

"And?"

"I signed it. I’m legally your ghost now."

He smirked. “Good.”

“Do you always propose in boardroom terms?” she asked softly, arms crossed.

Gabriel leaned back on his chair. “It’s the only language I know.”

Despite the vow, nothing changed between them—at least on the surface.

Still no office affection.

Still no lingering stares in public.

Still no label.

At kung minsan, pakiramdam ni China, she married a man who didn’t even want a wife—he just wanted control.

Then came the first rule.

“Your salary will double. You will move to a Buenavista property. You’ll have your own car, driver, guard, and a burner phone.”

“Burner phone?”

“In case someone tails you. I have enemies.”

She raised a brow. “That’s romantic.”

“I’m not romantic,” Gabriel replied flatly. “I’m territorial.”

She moved into a luxury condo the next day.

It was massive—three bedrooms, skyline view, top-floor access, and… loneliness.

Gabriel visited only once.

They had dinner. Silent. Cold.

He kissed her on the forehead before leaving.

Then she didn’t hear from him for five days.

The next week, China walked into a different kind of storm.

"Sino 'yang babae kay Gabriel kagabi?"

“Check mo T*****r! May mystery girl siyang kasama sa gala!”

China felt the blood drain from her face.

She clicked the post. Gabriel. Black tux. Elegant gala. A woman in red clutching his arm.

Not her.

Not even close.

The caption: “Power Couple Alert? Gabriel Buenavista spotted with heiress Celina Chiu!”

She stared at the screen.

Wife. But not the seen wife.

China marched to his private floor. Pinigilan siya ng secretary, pero hindi siya tumigil. Diretso siya sa opisina ni Gabriel ,walang pakialam kung may pulong ito.

“You took someone to a gala?” she said sharply.

Gabriel dismissed the executives and closed the blinds with a press of a button.

“It was business.”

“And I’m your what? Secret mission?”

He sighed. “If I had taken you, the entire world would dig into your past. Your family. Your debts. Your ex. Everything.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

Gabriel looked her dead in the eye. “It makes it smart.”

“And what about Celina Chiu? Was that smart too?”

“Her father controls the Chiu-Pharma Holdings. If I lose their trust, I lose three hospitals. And if I lose three hospitals, I lose access to the Buenavista medical research for this quarter.”

“Gabriel, I’m not asking for your trade secrets,” China snapped. “I’m asking if I matter.”

Silence.

Then Gabriel whispered, “You matter enough for me to hide.”

That night, China cried herself to sleep in a penthouse that didn’t feel like home.

Days passed.

A bouquet arrived.

Peonies.

Her favorite.

No note. No signature. But she knew it was him.

The next morning, Gabriel showed up at her condo—soaked in rain, no guards, no armor.

“I don’t know how to be a husband,” he said.

“I don’t know how to be a secret,” she replied.

They stood inches apart.

Then he did something unexpected.

He knelt. Not with a ring.

But with his bare heart.

“I married you to protect you. But maybe I’m the one who needs saving.”

China looked down at him, soaking wet, broken, and human.

Her hand reached for his face.

She kissed him.

Not because he asked.

But because, finally, he let her see the man behind the monster.

The next day…

They went back to pretending.

But something had changed.

He would text her late at night: “Are you okay?”

She would reply: “Only if you are.”

He would slip his hand into hers in the elevator when no one was looking.

And every morning, there would be peonies.

Always peonies.

But secrets don’t stay buried forever.

And one night, a figure stood across the street from her condo.

Watching.

Waiting.

Then lifted a camera and took a photo.

China’s silhouette was clear from the glass balcony.

And beside her?

Gabriel Buenavista.