Chapter 1: The Last Notice

Amara's POV

The first thing I saw that Monday morning was a red notice taped to our front door.

The second was my mother's trembling hand.

And the third was the amount printed in bold letters.

₱2,480,000.00.

Ma, ano 'to?" I asked, staring at the paper.

My mother quickly wiped her tears. "Wala 'to, anak. Don't worry."

"Nothing? Ma, almost two and a half million pesos 'to!"

She looked away. "I'll find a way."

I wanted to believe her, but our savings were gone, my father's medical bills kept increasing, and our small bakery barely earned enough to cover daily expenses.

Neither did I.

By eight o'clock, I was inside a crowded jeepney, checking my bank account.

Available balance: ₱3,842.17.

"Wow, Amara. Millionaire ka na talaga," I muttered.

I worked as a freelance graphic designer, creating logos and advertisements for small businesses. Unfortunately, several clients hadn't paid me, and another had canceled a project without compensation.

My phone vibrated.

For the first time, my mother had no answers.Ate Mara, may maniningil ulit. Friday daw ang deadline.

I closed my eyes.

Three days.

That was all the time we had before things became worse.

Then another notification appeared. An unfamiliar number was calling.

"Hello?"

"Good morning. Is this Ms. Amara Villanueva? I'm calling from Mr. Adrian Monteverde's office. He would like to meet you this afternoon."

I nearly dropped my phone.

Adrian Monteverde? The billionaire CEO whose company owned luxury hotels, commercial buildings, and technology firms?

"May I ask what the meeting is about?"

"Mr. Monteverde prefers to explain personally. Three o'clock, if you're available."

I hesitated before answering.

"Yes. I'll be there."

Maybe this was my chance to find a better job. Or maybe I was about to become the subject of a true-crime documentary.

Either way, I couldn't afford to ignore it.

At three o'clock, I arrived at Monteverde Tower wearing my cleanest blouse and least damaged shoes.

The building was intimidating, with polished marble floors, enormous glass windows, and employees who looked like they belonged in business magazines.

A woman introduced herself as Camille Reyes, Adrian's legal counsel, then escorted me to his office.

Minutes later, the door opened.

A tall man wearing a perfectly tailored black suit stepped outside. His sharp jawline and dark eyes made him look like someone who never heard the word no.

"Ms. Villanueva?"

"Yes. Mr. Monteverde?"

"Adrian. Come in."

His office overlooked the entire city. He offered me coffee, which I politely declined, before opening a folder.

"Thank you for inviting me," I began. "I'd like to know more about the job opportunity."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Job opportunity?"

My stomach tightened.

"I didn't invite you here to offer you a job."

"Then why am I here?"

He slid a document across the desk.

My name, address, and family debt were printed on the first page.

"How did you get this information?" I demanded.

"I have my sources."

That's incredibly invasive."

"Perhaps. But I needed to understand your circumstances."

I pushed the document away. "If you're here to collect money, talk to our lender."

"I'm here to offer you a marriage proposal."

I stared at him.

"Excuse me?"

"You marry me. I settle your family's debt and cover your father's medical expenses."

I laughed in disbelief. "Are you serious? You want to marry a complete stranger?"

Yes. For twelve months, under a legal agreement. We maintain a respectable public relationship, and neither party makes romantic demands."

"Why me?"

"Because you need financial security, and I need a wife who isn't pursuing my inheritance."

His calmness irritated me.

"Let me make something clear. If I even consider this ridiculous arrangement, you don't own me. I keep my independence, choose my work, and protect my family's

dignity."

He studied me before reaching for his pen.

"Reasonable."

I blinked.

"That's it?"

"I'll have my lawyer revise the terms. Bring independent counsel before signing anything."

I stood, clutching my bag.

"I haven't agreed yet."

Of course."

His eyes followed me toward the door.

"Take your time, Amara. But remember, the offer expires Friday."

My hand froze on the handle.

Friday.

The same deadline threatening my family.

I turned around, meeting his unreadable gaze.

For the first time, I wondered whether this man was my salvation or the beginning of my worst mistake.And somehow, I knew my life would never be the same.