로그인Dalia’s POV That night marked a turning point in-whatever this thing was between Lucas and me. What started as a simple contract‑deal arrangement suddenly turned into something… different. Unexpected. Dangerous. Lucas became more affectionate—clingy, even—and a little possessive. Normally, that should’ve annoyed me.But nope. For some stupid reason, I actually liked it. Maybe even got used to it. Or worse… maybe I really was falling in love with him. Fine. I’ll say it. I’m in love with Lucas. I don’t even know when it happened. One morning I just woke up and realized my heart had already packed its bags and moved into his. I missed him every second, craved his presence like I was going insane without him. It was ridiculous. And honestly? Terrifying. Because, hello—who knows how long this will last? Maybe our feelings have leveled up… but we’re definitely not reading from the same script. “Hey, babe… you look like you teleported to another universe. I’m right here, you k
Dalia’s POV My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of him underneath. His hands slid to my waist—firm, certain, as if he had already memorized the shape of me in his head long before this moment became real. The kiss wasn’t soft. It wasn’t tentative. It was the kind of kiss that pulls the air out of your lungs and replaces it with heat. I didn’t even realize I had closed my eyes until he gently broke the kiss, but only by a breath. Just far enough that I could feel his forehead almost touching mine, his breathing uneven, matching mine. “Say it again,” he whispered. The lights from the city flickered against his face, making his eyes look darker, hungrier. I could feel the intensity rolling off of him, the restrained chaos he’d been carrying all night. “Dalia.” His voice was low, almost rough. “Say it again.” My heart drummed so loudly I was certain he could feel it through my chest. “I like you,” I breathed. “I really like you.” His
Dalia’s POV “Where are we going, Lucas? What if your dad comes looking for us?!” I asked, tugging at his arm, my voice squeaky with a mix of panic and indignation. He didn’t answer. Not a word. He just kept walking, dragging me along like I was a suitcase he couldn’t leave behind. I glanced up at him—and froze. His face was sharp, unreadable, almost frightening in its seriousness. Oh no. Dalia, you overacted earlier. Congratulations—you just summoned the Dark Lucas. We passed the reception desk. He stopped abruptly. “I’m taking the penthouse tonight,” he said to the receptionist, his voice low, controlled… dangerously confident. The receptionist practically jumped out of her shoes. “But sir… your father reserved the penthouse for a friend—” “Tell him I took it,” Lucas interrupted, already tugging me toward the elevator. My eyes went wide. Penthouse? What the hell are we doing in a penthouse? My heart started racing. As soon as the elevator doors clo
Dalia POV The car ride felt like being trapped in a coffin—except I was alive, painfully aware, and sitting beside a man who suddenly forgot how to breathe like a normal human. Neither of us spoke. Neither of us moved. If a single pin dropped, I swear it would’ve echoed. I kept my eyes glued to the window, pretending the passing trees were fascinating. Spoiler: they weren’t. But they were a good distraction from the silence slowly suffocating me. Then Lucas, apparently allergic to awkward silence, cleared his throat and said, “So… ready for the party?” In the most cool-guy, nothing-bothers-me tone imaginable. I forced a smile that probably looked like I was in the middle of a dental procedure. “Yeah… sure.” He smirked. I hate that he can read me that easily. When we reached the party, I instantly regretted being born. People swarmed around us like we were on display. And then—because life hates me—his father announced our presence in front of everyone during
Lucas’ POV Seven in the evening: Honestly, I should’ve gone home hours ago. My dad only needed me for a few minutes—for one very specific favor: buying his favorite tobacco. The one only I know where to get. Yeah, I know—ridiculous. But the truth is, that’s his way of showing affection whenever I visit the Philippines. A strange father-son love language, but… ours nonetheless. After buying it, I just had it delivered to him through his driver. And then instead of going straight home, I found myself drifting to my old penthouse a couple blocks away. Not because I needed anything there—God knows that place is practically unused—but because I needed space. Or more specifically: distance. From someone. Yeah. From Dalia. Call me insane, but the way she looked this morning… it changed everything I thought I had under control. Actually, scratch that. I already knew something was happening inside me long before today. Her laugh, her stubbornness, the way she tries
Dalia’s POV “I told you the gown fits perfectly on you, iha,” Aling Feli said, her grin wide as she stepped back to admire her handiwork. I froze, hands fidgeting at my sides. I wanted to look in the mirror, but my stomach felt like it had joined a rollercoaster ride. This was… daring. Way more daring than anything I’d ever worn. Not scandalous, mind you, but showing just a little more skin than I was used to. The neckline teased my cleavage ever so slightly, and the slit… well, it reached mid-thigh. I might as well have been waving a little “look at me” flag. “Come on, iha, look at yourself in the mirror,” Aling Feli encouraged, gently guiding me to the full-length mirror. I hesitated, taking tiny steps, feeling like a penguin learning to waddle gracefully. Slowly, I tilted my head up and stared. My reflection froze me in place. Was that me? Honestly, it felt like someone had swapped my body with a magazine model’s overnight. Elegant, confident… scary. And here I was in







