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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
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2025-05-16 18:50:35
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The Man I Swore to Hate CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I didn’t slam the door on my way out of the community center because there wasn’t a door to slam. Just an old bamboo curtain that swished annoyingly as I stalked through it, my sandals kicking up dust and my pride trailing behind like an angry cat. I didn't even agree to attend this charity just so it can fix my reputation! He was behind me. Of course he was.“Don’t follow me,” I said, loud enough for everyone in the barangay basketball court to hear.Perion didn’t answer. Just walked. Big, silent, annoying strides. Like a robot programmed to ruin my life.I spun around so fast I almost tripped on the hem of my skirt. “Seriously? You have nothing better to do? I’m sixteen, not six.”“Miss, you’re sixteen and publicly threatened the mayor’s daughter during parlor games,” he said calmly. “So no, I don’t have better things to do.”I glared at him. “She said I cheated.”“You did cheat.”“It was Trip to Jerusalem!”His brows lifted like he couldn't believe he had to explain this. “You kno
The Man I Swore to Hate CHAPTER TWENTY
“Seen”I stared at my phone screen like it held the answer to the universe.Still nothing. Not even a “seen.”I leaned against the window ledge of the library, the sun burning too brightly on the quad below. Groups of students milled about between classes, laughing, sipping overpriced iced coffee, tossing frisbees like they didn’t have exams tomorrow. Meanwhile, I had been stuck watching one little message stay unread for nearly two hours.“Nice match yesterday.”Sent. Delivered. Never read.I wasn’t even sure why I sent it. After all that—after the match, the stares, the phone number—I had expected something. A message. A follow. A fire emoji reaction, at the very least. But no. Romero Mastrandrea had left me on “Delivered” like I was one of those desperate girls who tried too hard.And maybe I was. Trying too hard.“Carmen?” Ava slid into the seat beside me, her voice low. “You okay?”“Fine.”“You’re glaring at your phone.”I flipped it over. I sighed. “Don’t start.”She didn’t. Ins
The Man I Swore to Hate CHAPTER NINETEEN
It was one of those disgustingly sunny afternoons, the kind of day designed for pressed whites, cold drinks, and polite applause.Romero Mastrandrea was playing tennis at the country club. Private courts, invite-only. Belle nearly broke her neck when she found out. Ava pulled strings. Again. The court was pristine, grass trimmed like velvet, the net stretched tight, and silver-plated rackets hung neatly in their cases like weapons waiting to be chosen.Romero Mastrandrea was already there, of course, mid-match, dressed in crisp white tennis gear that fit him too well. His hair was damp with sweat, his tan legs flexing with every serve. Women watched from shaded lounge chairs, sipping cocktails, pretending not to stare. His opponent was no one important, some trust fund friend, but the crowd watched Romero alone.A pleated white miniskirt, a sleeveless top just low enough to show my ample bosom, and my hair in a sleek ponytail that screamed, Yes, I look f'cking sexy. What about it?“Ge
The Man I Swore to Hate CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ava’s cousin worked part-time at the Mastrandrea family ranch—one of those sprawling countryside estates where the air smelled of money and horse sweat. According to her, Romero and a few friends had driven up that morning. Monica was with them, obviously. So we dressed the part. Riding boots, tight jodhpurs, linen shirts. Even Belle wore pearls like we were here to sip tea instead of stalk someone else's Saturday plans.“There they are,” Ava whispered, nudging me with her elbow as we crouched behind a hedge overlooking the white-fenced paddocks.Romero looked every bit the aristocratic equestrian: black pants, navy riding shirt, gloves tucked into his waistband, hair slightly wind-tousled. He was adjusting a saddle while Monica, God help us all, giggled beside him, struggling to mount her horse like she’d never seen one before.“What a bitch,” Belle muttered. “Someone get her a fainting couch.”I stood. “I’m riding.”They stared at me. Moments later, I was striding toward the stable
The Man I Swore to Hate CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The tennis court shimmered under the late afternoon sun, echoing with the sharp bounce of balls and half-hearted squeals from the girls I’d somehow agreed to play with. They were rich enough to afford good rackets, but not rich enough to belong. Their coordination? Tragic. Their sense of style? Expensive, but forgettable.I only came because someone mentioned he might be here.And there he was. On the far end of the court, dressed in a plain black athletic shirt and white shorts, Romero Mastrandrea stood like he belonged to a different league altogether—because he did.He was helping a girl swing her racket properly—hands lightly adjusting her stance, murmuring some quiet instruction. She giggled a little too loudly at his closeness, her cheeks flushed, desperate for his attention. It was obvious she was smitten. He wasn’t.“Hold it lower,” he said in that low voice of his. “You’ll hit cleaner. And step forward with your left foot, not back.”I leaned on my racket, watching with incre
The Man I Swore to Hate CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The walls in this house have never felt so narrow. Not even when I was a teenager sneaking in after midnight, smelling like liquor and cigarette smoke I didn’t even enjoy. Not even then.Now, the silence wraps around me like a noose. I sit on the edge of the piano bench in the salon, legs crossed, back straight—because posture is power in this house, and I need every ounce I can fake.I hear him before I see him. Deliberate steps. Heavy. Not rushed. My father never rushes. He enters the room like a storm pretending to be a man.“Do you realize what you’ve done?” His voice cuts through the air like a blade. No greeting. No pretense.I raise an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “Which part? The fight? Or the fact that the video went viral in less than an hour?”He slams the folder he’s holding onto the piano beside me. Clips. Stills. Screenshots. My face, mid-swing. Blood on my knuckles. One of the girls from the lounge slumped over a broken chair.“You made a spectacle of yourself,” he gr
The Man I Swore to Hate CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The air was too still. Their smiles too bright. I should’ve known.We were supposed to be riding laps. What a joke. Julienne and the rest of her leashed little clique were only here to parade around like show ponies, hoping someone important would be watching. Preferably male. Preferably titled. But today they were after me.I felt it before they spoke, this sickening tension between their fake laughter and flickering glares.Julienne trotted up beside me, her posture annoyingly perfect, her mare dressed in pastel accessories like it was a doll instead of a living animal.“You and Nicolas looked cozy at the gala,” she said, faux-casual.I didn’t respond at first. I adjusted my gloves, eyes fixed ahead.“We spoke,” I said simply.Serena snorted. “Spoke? He didn’t take his eyes off you all night.”Alina chimed in, “I heard you wants to marry him.”“News really does fly around here, huh?”I just shrugged like it didn't matter. It was something both our families agreed on, but I have no i
The Man I Swore to Hate CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I wanted to slap him, curse him, scream—but all I could do was clutch the towel tighter around my body and pretend I didn’t feel the way his arms steadied me.He guided me on the long couch in the sitting room, then left without a word. The sound of his footsteps faded down the hall. I sat, dripping saltwater and shame onto the velvet cushion, staring blankly at the flickering shadows on the walls.Then the footsteps returned. He held out a steaming cup of ginger tea. I didn’t thank him. I took it anyway.“Get the line open to my father,” I muttered.I stiffened. “Now? You need to warm up first.”“I wanted this,” I said, expression hard. “And you told me we’d call him.”I hated how my heart jumped at the thought. For all my complaints, for all the ways I raged at being trapped on this island... I hadn’t spoken to my father in weeks. Months, maybe. Not since he’d hidden me away like some dirty family secret.Perion placed the satellite phone in front of me. “It’s secure. He’s expecting
The Man I Swore to Hate Chapter Thirteen
Perion was pacing somewhere inside the villa—silent, always watching, always waiting. But I’d learned his rhythms. The way he checked the perimeter cameras. The way he never locked the back gate properly. The way his guard slipped the moment exhaustion took him. That was my opening. He’d always lingered by the terrace—always watching, always near—but not near enough.Not today.I slipped out through the narrow service door, heart pounding in sync with the distant crash of waves. I’d timed it perfectly. The jetski was gassed, I had checked the perimeter only minutes ago. I slipped through the palms like smoke, heart beating against my ribs like a war drum. The sand was cool beneath my feet, the air thick with salt and adrenaline. My breath was shallow, tight in my chest. I dashed straight to the shoreline. With all my strength, I pushed the jetski from the sand and into the water.I just knew he's aware of what I'm doing now, but I didn’t care. At least Perion loosening his grip on me
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