LOGINArielle Santos 24 years old never imagined that her life would be written for her — even her love story. She was raised in a modest family, a dreamer who painted her hopes in colors only she could see. But one evening, her world collapsed when her parents revealed the truth: to save their family from bankruptcy, she had to marry the son of their business partner — Evan Monteverde, the 28 years old, cold and distant heir of one of the country’s most powerful companies. Evan didn’t believe in love. To him, emotions were distractions — weaknesses that could ruin a man. He had long promised himself never to trust feelings again after being betrayed by someone he once loved. So when his father announced his arranged marriage with a woman he barely knew, he didn’t protest for love’s sake — only to end the endless lectures about “duty” and “family legacy.” Their wedding day was perfect — at least in the eyes of the guests. But behind the veil and the smiles, two strangers stood at the altar, reciting vows they didn’t mean. The words “I do”echoed in the church, but neither of them truly did. After the ceremony, they made a deal — they would live together for one year, play their roles for the sake of appearances, and then quietly separate. No love. No expectations. Just peace. But peace was harder to keep than they thought.
View MoreTahimik ang bahay. After the family dinner na muntik nang maging disaster, halos maramdaman ni Arielle ang bigat ng bawat hakbang niya paakyat ng hagdan. Ang heels niya, tinanggal na niya halfway through the stairs — parang simbolo ng pagod, hindi lang sa katawan, kundi sa lahat ng nangyari. “Bakit ko ba pinilit ‘tong dinner na ‘to?” bulong niya sa sarili, habang pinupunasan ang luha sa sulok ng mata. Kanina lang, sa harap ng mga kamag-anak ni Evan, tinanong siya ng tita nito kung kailan daw sila magkakaanak. Napangiti lang siya, pilit. Pero nang marinig niya si Evan na sagutin ng, “We’re not really rushing things,” — sa tonong walang emosyon, parang business meeting lang — doon na siya natigilan. Narinig niya ang mga bulungan. “Akala ko ba they love each other that's why they married?” “Mukhang hindi sila close.” At doon na siya tuluyang nasaktan. Pagpasok niya sa kwarto, kinuha niya agad ‘yung clip sa buhok niya at tinapon sa vanity. She didn’t mean to cry — pero ayun, dumalo
“Some lies are told not to deceive the world—but to protect a heart n kkot ready to tell the truth.” A week had passed since “the rules” were made. The mansion had grown accustomed to silence—the kind that neither hurt nor healed, just *was*. Arielle kept herself busy with painting and reading; Evan drowned in work. They shared the same roof, the same meals, but not the same world. That peace—thin as glass—shattered one afternoon when a message arrived. Evan was in his office when his phone buzzed. A short text from his father: Father: Dinner. Tonight. Bring your wife. He sighed heavily and rubbed his temple. It wasn’t a request; it was a command. Meanwhile, Arielle was tending to the garden when the housekeeper approached her. “Ma’am, Mr. Evan would like to speak with you,” the woman said politely. Arielle wiped her hands on her apron and nodded. When she entered his office, Evan was standing by the window, his posture tense. “You called me?” she asked gently.
"Some promises are made to protect the heart, not to keep it." The following morning felt heavier than usual. The argument from the night before still lingered in the air — unspoken but sharp, like broken glass no one dared to touch. Arielle woke early again, her body moving on habit. She brewed coffee, made breakfast, and arranged the table for two — even though she knew he might not join her. She didn’t expect warmth, not even apology. She just wanted peace. She had almost finished buttering her toast when Evan entered the dining room. Still in his crisp white shirt, eyes unreadable. He didn’t greet her, and she didn’t force one out of him. He sat down across from her, silence stretching between them. After a long moment, he said flatly, “We need to talk.” Her heart tensed, but she met his gaze. “About last night?” “About everything.” He leaned back in his chair, voice low, controlled. “This… marriage. This arrangement. I think we need to set boundaries — rules.” She blinked
“Some people build walls to protect themselves — others build them just to see who cares enough to tear them down.” Three days had passed since the wedding, and the Monteverde mansion had returned to its usual quiet — the kind that didn’t comfort, only echoed. Arielle woke up early as she always did. The sun was soft through the curtains, painting golden streaks across the floor. For a moment, she almost forgot everything — the deal, the vows, the expectations. Almost. She tied her hair into a bun and made her way downstairs. The house staff greeted her politely, unsure of how to address her. “Good morning, Ma’am Arielle,” the maid said shyly. Arielle smiled, gentle and genuine. “Just call me Arielle. No need for formalities.” The maid hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, Ma’am— I mean, Arielle.” The young bride laughed softly. She moved toward the kitchen, curious. To her surprise, Evan was already there — sleeves rolled up, phone in hand, speaking in a low, commanding ton






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