The CEO's Hired Wife

"Ate, inom ka muna ng tubig. Namumutla ka na."

Pinunasan ko ang pawis sa noo habang nakaupo sa plastic chair sa tabi ng hospital bed ni Jenny. Three hours na akong tulala dito, nakatitig sa reseta at hospital bill na nasa table. The numbers kept swimming before my eyes: ₱89,456 for this week's treatment alone.

"Jenny, paano ba natin—" Naputol ang sasabihin ko nang makita kong tulog na pala siya. Even in sleep, kitang-kita ko ang pagod sa mukha ng kapatid ko. Seventeen years old pero ang dami nang pinagdaanan. Life's unfair that way.

My phone buzzed. Text from my online ESL student canceling our 6 AM class. Great. That's another ₱500 gone. Tumayo ako at kinuha ang coffee shop uniform ko. At least may shift pa ako sa The Daily Grind later. Baka kung maaga ako dumating, payagan akong mag-overtime.

"'Te..." Jenny stirred slightly. "Wag ka mag-overwork ha?"

"Matulog ka na nga." I kissed her forehead. "Text mo ko kung may kailangan ka."

The morning air was crisp as I walked to the coffee shop in BGC. Manila was just waking up, pero ang dami nang corporate employees na nagmamadaling pumasok. Must be nice, having stable 9-to-5 jobs with benefits. Not that I'm complaining. Between my barista work and online teaching gigs, I was making ends meet. Barely.

"Good morning, Isa!" bati ni Tita Baby, our shop manager, as I entered through the back door. "Aga mo yata?"

"Morning po, Tita. Puwede po bang mag-extra shift?"

She gave me a concerned look. "Naku, anak. Over 40 hours ka na this week. Baka—"

"Please po?" I tried not to sound desperate. "Kay Jenny po kasi..."

Her eyes softened. "Sige na nga. Pero promise me kakain ka ng proper lunch today ha?"

I nodded quickly, already tying my apron. The morning rush was intense as usual. Executives wanting their caffeine fix, varied orders flying left and right. I was in my zone, efficiently making drink after drink.

"One Americano!" called out my co-worker.

"Got it!" I grabbed a cup, careful not to make mistakes despite my exhaustion. The shop was packed, and I could feel my hands starting to shake from fatigue.

That's when I heard it. A commanding voice that seemed to make everyone else's chatter fade into background noise.

"Black coffee. No sugar."

I looked up and nearly dropped the cup I was holding. Standing at the counter was quite possibly the most intimidating man I'd ever seen. Tall, impeccably dressed in what looked like a hand-tailored suit. His features were sharp, aristocratic – half-Filipino, half-European maybe? But it was his eyes that caught my attention. Dark, intense, and completely devoid of warmth.

"Sir?" my co-worker squeaked. "Your name po?"

"Alexander." His tone made it clear he wasn't interested in small talk.

I forced myself to focus on making his drink. Just another customer, Isa. Kahit mukhang may-ari ng building na 'to. My hands were still shaking as I carefully poured the hot coffee.

Then everything happened in slow motion.

My grip slipped.

The cup tilted.

Hot liquid splashed.

Right onto his pristine suit.

"Oh my god!" I gasped. "Sir, sorry po! Patay ako nito!"

The entire shop went dead silent. I grabbed napkins frantically, trying to dab at the growing stain on his jacket. From the fabric alone, alam kong mas mahal pa 'to sa isang buwan kong sweldo.

"Stop." His voice was eerily calm.

I froze, napkins suspended mid-air. "Sir, I'm really sorry po. I can—"

"This suit," he said slowly, "costs fifty thousand pesos."

My heart stopped. Fifty thousand? Lord, paano ko babayaran 'to?

"I-I'll pay for it po," I stammered, knowing full well that was impossible. "Monthly installment po pwede?"

To my surprise, instead of anger, something else flickered in his eyes. Interest? Amusement?

"Monthly installment?" He actually smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "And how long exactly do you plan to pay me back?"

I did quick mental math. "Mga... ten years po?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Ten years."

"Five po kung mag-donate ako ng isang kidney?"

I wanted to smack myself. Bakit ganun ang nasabi ko? But to my shock, he let out a short laugh. It transformed his whole face, making him look younger, almost... human.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Isabella po. Isabella Santos."

Something changed in his expression at the mention of my surname. He studied me more intently.

"Santos... Any relation to Eduardo Santos of Santos Construction?"

I stiffened. "He was my father po."

"Was?"

"He passed away po. Five years ago."

He was quiet for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "Come to this address at 2 PM today. We'll discuss your... payment terms."

I read the card: Alexander Del Rosario, CEO, Del Rosario Industries.

"But sir, my shift—"

"I'll speak with your manager." He turned to leave, then paused. "Don't be late, Miss Santos. I hate waiting."

As he walked away, leaving coffee drips in his wake, I couldn't shake the feeling that my life was about to change dramatically. Hindi ko lang alam kung para sa ikabubuti o ikasasama ko.

Little did I know, that spilled coffee would lead to the most complicated deal of my life.