Jocelyn was fuming. Anger was vividly painted on her face. Her brows are furrowing. Her lips are pursed into a flat line. Her nose is flaring, and her throat is dry as the Sahara Desert. She should’ve told a much more solid reason to Darwin for a sure separation of Minerva from the Gray family. But, none of her previous efforts work that much. In fact, it didn’t even work—not even an inch. Clenching her face as she looks at herself in the vanity mirror, she glanced at her side—to where a picture of a beautiful red-head girl was situated. Jocelyn smiled as she knew she must use her secret ‘card’ this time no matter what the cost is. Dialing on her phone, she taps her fingers on the wooden table in anticipation of the person on the other line. Finally, after two rings, the girl answered. “What is it this time, Jocelyn?” She frowned, but instead forced a smile. “Darwin and his pregnant whore a

Darwin’s brain is storming with Typhoon Minerva—again. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. She and that Lushan boy. ‘Who the hell is that bastard?!’His thoughts bounced within the walls of his mind. ‘Why does Minerva seem closed with him?’ Darwin was indeed acting like a child, but he doesn’t give a damn about that. The only thing that he would gladly give his damn attention is her and her only. And Lushan Angeles, for now. He was walking in the hallway towards the veranda of Chateau Bellerose when he noticed something by the wall. It was Minerva—but in a painting. Darwin looked closer, walked nearer. The signature of his father was in the bottom right of it in white. “It’s been a long time since dad painted,” he reminisced. He closed the distance with the painting on the wall. Darwin, then, realized it wasn’t Minerva. It was his mother, Deanna. He blinked, wiping away the sweat on his brows. Though

It was Darwin’s seventh birthday. He was standing by their house’s window, as his mother Deanna tied up the balloons and party decorations. Black and red are the theme colors for his special day, in which he isn't merely pleased. Darwin watched silently outside, hoping that in any minute, the young girl she was longing to meet will come walking towards his house. There, in front of them, is the house of a young girl named Miriam. He doesn’t know her full name as his mother only calls the beautiful youngling in that name. She has sapphire blue eyes that reminds Darwin of the waters of Malibu where they celebrated his mother’s birthday. Her luscious strawberry blonde hair makes him want to go back to the juicy, sweet strawberries of Japan—where he and his father’s son from another woman celebrated the latter’s birthday, along with their respective mothers and their father. She was beautiful, like the morning star above, brightly illuminating the world. His world.

Minerva’s POV“Don’t follow him.” I was about to glare at Mr. Damon. But his weak smile made me give him a sheepish grin instead. Why did Darwin storm out? Did he see us? Did he heard Lushan’s—no, it can’t be. But if he really did…I must act quickly and follow him wherever the hell he went. “Where did Darwin go?” Mr. Damon sighed in dismay. “Judging by the look on his face, he always lets his disappointment sink in in our country house until it vanishes. It’s a seaside abode. I trust that the sea breeze will make your fiancé calm and serene.” Though I was convinced of father’s assuring words, my hands are still shaking, my feet are still trembling as if it’s gonna sprint away and follow Darwin wherever this country house that Damon said. “Do not follow him, Minerva,” his voice is much firmer than before. “I don’t want to lose another Gray family again.” Damon’s eyes slid to my belly and I put my hand atop of it. C

Minerva’s POV “How can she be so sure that Darwin’s the father?” That is one of the reasons why Mariella is my bestfriend. She agrees to almost anything I say; anything I express. “I don’t know…” I said. “One minute, she was just climbing down from the stairs. Then in a blink of an eye, she’s already on his lips along with the words ‘I’m pregnant, Darwin, and you’re the father’.” Mariella laughed at my way of copying Gyzell’s annoying high-pitched voice. “That’s also the reason I immediately walked out like what he did to me when he saw me and Lushan talking, and quickly grabbed a cab on my way here.” “I never knew you were an impersonator,” she said, wiping the froth from the coffee on her lips. I sighed in dismay. Perhaps I was just meant to be a payment. Perhaps if I just agree that I’ll serve him in just a hundred days or so, I’ll now be freed of our debts—from Derrick’s debts. “You know, Mariella…” She looke