Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 1 - Chapitre 10

Chapter 2: Living With The Enemy "Your room," Ethan said, dropping my duffel bag on the floor like it was contaminated. It was bigger than our entire house in Cabanatuan. And it had a door that connected directly to his room. "Oh, hell no," I said immediately. "We said separate lives." "It's a connecting door for married couples. My mother insisted. Keep it locked if you want. I have no interest in entering your... chaos." He looked at my duffel bag, where my tsinelas was sticking out. My chaos. Right. "I have rules," he said, leaning against the doorframe, looking every inch the billionaire heir. "Rule number one we already covered. Don't fall in love with me." "Noted. Your ego is safe." "Rule number two: Don't touch my things. Especially my office. It's off-limits." I raised an eyebrow. "Hiding something, Enemy?" He smirked. "Just my sanity. Rule number three: When we are in public or with family, you are madly in love with me. You smile, you hold my hand, you laugh at my

Chapter 4: The Gala Where We Pretend "I need you to wear this." Ethan dropped a garment bag on my bed at 6 AM on Saturday. I was still half-asleep, drooling on his expensive pillow because I had somehow migrated to the middle of the bed and stolen all the blankets. "Do you ever knock?" I sat up, hair looking like a bird's nest. "No. It's my house. And we're married. Husbands don't knock." "We have separate rooms! And that door is supposed to be locked!" "Which you forgot to lock last night," he said with a smirk, looking pointedly at the connecting door which was indeed wide open. "You even called my name in your sleep." "I DID NOT!" My face turned red. "I was having a nightmare! You were the monster!" "Sure. You were saying 'Ethan, don't leave' very monster-like." I threw a pillow at him. He caught it easily. "Wear this. Car leaves at seven. We have the Blackwood Foundation Gala tonight. Every board member will be there. Every investor. And every gossip columnist in Manila.

Chapter 6: The Night The Rules Broke For a full minute after he said it, neither of us moved. "I am so in love with you it makes me hate myself." Ethan Blackwood, my childhood enemy, the boy who stole my crayons, pushed me into the mud, and rejected me in front of our entire high school, was standing in his office, surrounded by the proof that he had tried to save my family, confessing he was in love with me. And I was standing there in my old shorts, crying, realizing my five-year revenge plan was built on a lie. "You don't get to say that," I whispered. My voice was hoarse from crying. "You don't get to say you're in love with me after you made me hate you for five years." "I know," he said. He looked broken. Not like a billionaire CEO. Like the seventeen-year-old boy in the video who punched a wall because he hurt me. "You should hate me. It's safer if you hate me." "Stop telling me what is safer!" I crossed the room. I don't know if I wanted to slap him or kiss him. My hand

Chapter 8: How To Prove A Marriage is Real The Blackwood boardroom was not a room. It was a glass cage on the 42nd floor of the Blackwood Tower in BGC, with a view of all of Manila that made you feel small. And twelve old men in suits were staring at me like I was on trial for marrying their billionaire prince. Ramon Blackwood sat at the head, smiling like he had already won. Miguel, Ethan's cousin — handsome, smug, wearing a watch that cost more than my father's restaurant — sat next to him. "Sienna Alvarez-Blackwood," the lead board member said, reading my name like it was a typo. "We are here because Lolo Arthur's will states Ethan must have a 'genuine and loving marriage' to inherit. The board has... concerns that this marriage, done in three days with no dating period, is contractual." "With all respect," Miguel said, not respecting at all, "Ethan married his childhood enemy from Cabanatuan. A girl whose family owes us money. It looks like charity. Or worse, fraud." Ethan's

Chapter 10: The Real Wedding Our first wedding was a contract in a hospital room. No dress, no flowers, no vows. Just a ring and ten million pesos and a dying father's monitor beeping in the background. Our second wedding was one year, one month, and three days later. In Cabanatuan. My mother cried when she saw the backyard. "Sienna, this is too much! We said small!" It wasn't small. Ethan rented white fairy lights and covered our entire mango tree with them. He set up long tables where my father's restaurant staff served lechon and pancit. He flew in Lolo Arthur's old lawyer who kept wiping his eyes and saying "Arthur would have loved this." I was in a red dress again. Not the expensive silk one from the gala. A simple, soft red dress my mother sewed, just like my debut dress when I was sixteen. The one Ethan said made me look like trouble. "Are you ready, Enemy?" My father stood next to me, in a new barong, his heart beating strong. No oxygen tube. No monitor. Just my papa, ali