Novel & Cerita Speaking Hypothetically

Growing up with her evil-like parents, Maria Arabella Cortel wasn’t able to do anything when she had to pretend as Maria Renee Garcia, the girl that was promised to marry a Villacorta. She was forced to change everything. Her hair. Her way of speaking and her way of styling clothes. She basically stole her identity. It was all her parents’ plan, but included the real Renee who even pushed her to do it. All for her parents’ obsession with money, and making the real Renee Garcia’s life miserable in their hands. Everything was planned smoothly. Nang napunta na siya sa puder ng mga Villacorta, she felt like slowly succeeding when Mrs. Villacorta didn’t notice at all how she’s not the real girl she wants for her son. The woman is very fond of her. She thought she had no problem at all. But that's only what she thought. Because when Alexandro Kirviel Villacorta appeared, Renee’s fiance, that shattered her long-held notion that she’d succeed in her mission. She was confronted. Pinagbintangang hindi totoong Renee. At pinagbantaang hindi titiglan hanggang manggaling mismo sa kaniyang bibig ang katotohanan. Both of them have agendas to fulfill. One to keep the truth, and the other one to unveil. But what if love gets in the way? Who would win? Who would fail? Especially… when their parents put the decision in their hands, risking everything no matter what it takes.

"Speaking, Mr. Thompson. What can I--" "I'm looking for my wife, Mr. Montevista. Is she with you, by any chance?" Hinaing nito sa kabilang linya dahilan para magngitngit nang galit lalo si Deiah sa narinig nitong salitang "wife" Ang lakas nga naman ng loob nitong tawagin siya nitong wife pagkatapos siyang pilitin nitong pirmahan ang papel na iyon. "Excuse me. Mawalang galang pero puwede bang piliin mo ang mga salita mo, Mr. Thompson. Ex-wife mo na ako ngayon. Hindi asawa." May diin sa tono ng pagkakasabi ni Deiah sa salitang "hindi asawa" habang ramdam niya ang pangangatog ng tuhod niya. Mas lumalakas na din ang kabog ng puso niya. "Totoo nga. Magkasama nga talaga kayo." Madiing sagot ni Primo, mahahalata sa boses nitong ang nagngingit nitong tono sa pagbitaw sa bawat salita. "Bakit hindi? Ikaw lang ba ang puwedeng humanap ng makakasama?" "Deiah!" Bulyaw ni Primo na halos hindi mapipinta ang mukha dahil sa madilim nitong awra. "I warn you, don't be hasty. Our divorce isn't finalized, we haven't received the certificate. Legally, you're still my wife. Consider the Thompson family's reputation and your dignity." Dagdag niya pang sabi kay Deiah.

Perfection was the curse. I was born into wealth, beauty, influence, and a family empire that stretched across continents. People envied my life, not knowing it was nothing more than a gilded prison. The only thing that ever felt real was ballet, the passion my parents forbade because it brought them no power, no profit, no leverage. My parents; greedy, ambitious, unfillable, hid their cruelty beneath luxury. And on my eighteenth birthday, they revealed the ultimate betrayal. I was engaged to a powerful man twice. . . no, three times my age. A man feared across Europe. A man whose hands were stained with secrets the world pretended not to see. They sold me to strengthen an alliance. So I ran. Barefoot, shaking, heartbroken. I stole one of our visitor's chopper and fled to Sicily, thinking distance could save me. I thought I escaped the monsters who owned my life. But I only ran into a darker one. Because Sicily is his territory; Aldrick Moretti, the shadow king of the Italian underworld. Cold. Untouchable. Beautiful in the most devastating way. The man people whisper about as if speaking his name is a sin. A man with eyes that see through lies. . . including mine. And the moment he found me trespassing on his land, bleeding, terrified, and wearing the remnants of a runaway bride. . . He didn’t return me. He didn’t free me. He claimed me. Not as a business deal. Not as an alliance. But as something far more dangerous. He became my captor, my protector, my obsession, and the forbidden flame I should never have touched. Because in his world, love is not tender. It’s a weapon. And I am the sacrifice wrapped in a veil he refuses to let go.