CHAPTER 3
1602 Words
AMIRAH reached for the phone that had been ringing endlessly on her bedside table.
Who in the world would call this early? she thought with a groan.
“Hello,” she mumbled sleepily, still lying facedown on her bed.
It was barely seven in the morning. Saturday. Her one day off. She wasn’t supposed to go to the office today—she had already told Alota that she and her mother had plans.
Her family didn’t run a huge corporation, but their businesses kept her schedule full enough: two hardware stores in different locations in the town, a branch of a popular fast-food chain along the national highway, and their newest venture—a supermarket just across the public elementary school at the town center.
That supermarket, less than two years old, had quickly become a local favorite. It offered lower prices than most small general merchandise stores in the market. Ironically, the building it stood in wasn’t theirs—it belonged to the Montelibano family.
She hadn’t even heard of the Montelibanos until that fateful dinner, the night everything changed. Her father had tried to buy the building, but the elder Montelibano refused to sell. Now, the second floor housed an OB-GYN clinic, a gym owned by a local entrepreneur, and their office. Behind the building was a parking lot reserved for employees, and at the side, a stairway led to the upper floor.
Her job, as the daughter involved in the family business, was to supervise operations and sign off on payrolls. Her father managed the hardware stores; her, the supermarket.
And so, on a quiet Saturday morning, the last thing she wanted was—
“How are you, darling?” came a familiar, teasing voice through the receiver. “Hmm… I like your morning voice. Sexy. Makes me want to drive back there and keep you company in bed.”
Amirah shot up at once, sleep vanishing in an instant. She knew that voice.
“What do you want?” she snapped.
“I’m sorry to wake you up so early, love,” Rustam’s voice dropped to a smooth, persuasive tone. “I have an important event to attend… and I need a chaperone.”
He paused, clearly gauging her reaction before continuing.
“I’m expecting a business associate tonight. Will you be my date, Amirah?”
“You’re unbelievable,” she muttered. “And what makes you think I’d agree to be your date—no matter how ‘important’ this business associate is? We’re not even anything to each other.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, love,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “As my fiancée, it’s only right that you come with me. My partners will trust me more if they see I have a stable personal life.”
She could almost hear his smirk.
And annoyingly, he wasn’t entirely wrong. She’d seen that trope often enough in K-dramas—powerful CEOs bringing their wives to business events for prestige. But they weren’t in Seoul. They weren’t even a couple.
“For heaven’s sake, Rustam,” she said sharply. “If you have nothing better to do, don’t drag me into it. I’m sure you haven’t run out of women to call.”
The words slipped out harsher than she meant. A faint ache tugged at her chest—an image of all the beautiful women Rustam could easily charm flashing in her mind.
“And your business deal won’t fall apart just because you show up alone.”
“Sorry, Amirah,” his tone softened. “As much as I’d like to explain this in person, Quirino is too far. It would take me nine hours to get there even if I drove fast. Please.”
“Why do you even care so much about this stupid arrangement?” she shot back. “Are you secretly gay and using me to hide it?”
“What?” Rustam burst out laughing. “Now that’s an idea. Maybe you should see for yourself, love, whether that’s true or not.”
Rolling her eyes, Amirah got up and headed to the bathroom, phone still wedged between her shoulder and ear.
“You’re wasting my time, Rustam,” she said as she squeezed toothpaste onto her toothbrush.
“I really didn’t want to use this card,” his voice suddenly turned calm—dangerously calm. “But your lease on the supermarket building… it’s about to expire, isn’t it?”
Amirah froze, toothbrush halfway to her lips.
“What do you mean?” she asked, sinking onto the closed lid of the toilet, weak-kneed.
“Just one night, love,” he coaxed. “You don’t have to worry about anything. Have your driver take you to Cubao tomorrow morning. Call me when you get there. I’ll pick you up myself.”
“Are you serious right now?” she hissed. “You have a whole company full of employees—pick any of them. I’m busy.”
“Busier than me?” His tone turned teasing again, and she could practically see his infuriating grin. “You’ll thank me later.”
“So you’re threatening me with the building lease?” she said flatly.
“If that’s how you see it, yes, my dear,” he replied lightly. “At least we understand each other about the renewal of your rental contract.”
Amirah groaned, gripping her toothbrush tight. “What kind of event is this, anyway? Why me?”
“Just a company affair,” he said. “I’ll be entertaining a major business partner, and appearances matter. Let’s say I’m doing you a favor—you’ll finally have an excuse to dress up and go out. Your father told me you’ve been too busy running the businesses to attend any parties. Who knows? You might even end up enjoying a date with the man of your dreams.”
Her jaw dropped. “You’re unbelievable, Rustam Montelibano! Get over yourself. You were never in my dreams.”
“Really?” he said, laughing softly. “Funny, because the way you look at me says otherwise. Like you want to drag me into bed and devour me whole.”
“Arrogant jerk—”
“I’d love to keep this going, love, but I’ve got a meeting. See you tomorrow night. Don’t worry about what to wear—I’ll take care of that.”
The line went dead.
Amirah stared at her reflection in the mirror, toothbrush in hand, unsure whether to laugh or scream. What was happening to her life? She used to have a simple routine—manage the stores, take calls from their managers, fix employee disputes, sign payrolls.
And she had Cliff—her thoughtful, steady boyfriend.
They’d met through a mutual friend back in college. He was a senior; she, a freshman. It started casually, as friendship, until he confessed his feelings. She hadn’t been in love, not yet—but when he kissed her for the first time, she remembered the rush of warmth and confusion that followed. He’d promised to work hard for their future. Now, two years into his job in Dubai, Cliff remained sweet, reliable, and caring.
He was handsome too—almost as striking as Rustam, though in a softer, more boy-next-door way.
So why, why did she have to play chaperone to a man who lived to torment her?
She didn’t know how she’d even begin to explain this to Cliff.
With a heavy sigh, she finished brushing her teeth, got dressed, and went downstairs.
Her mother, Amalia, was already sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine.
“Are we still going to the spa at nine, Mama?” Amirah asked, surprising her mother with how early she was up.
“Don’t give me that look, Mama. I was woken up by an irritating creature calling at dawn,” she muttered, plopping down beside her.
Amalia chuckled softly but said nothing.
“We’ll postpone the spa for now,” her mother said at last. “Rustam already asked permission from your father for you to attend a company event on Monday. Your father seems to like that man—he agreed without hesitation. That means he trusts him.”
Amirah wasn’t surprised. Of course Rustam had called her father first. What was the point of asking her, when he’d already made the decision for her?
“Take today to prepare for your trip to Manila tomorrow,” her mother added. “I’ve already asked Celso to check the car you’ll use.”
Amirah exhaled sharply. “I don’t understand you or Papa. You know I have a boyfriend, yet you keep pushing me toward your friend’s grandson.”
She knew her father was half-Chinese, raised by his Filipino mother’s side. In her father’s family, arranged marriages weren’t unusual—but she never thought he’d try to impose the same on her.
“Amirah, sweetheart,” her mother said gently, “you’ll only be there for show. Rustam just asked your father for help—he needs to impress some business people, that’s all.”
“As if I have a choice,” Amirah muttered, rising to her feet. She stormed off toward the kitchen, calling for Nelia, their helper, to prepare breakfast.
She couldn’t understand Rustam Montelibano—why he kept dragging her into his affairs. They weren’t friends, barely acquaintances. And yet he acted like he owned every piece of her time.
And maybe, just maybe, a tiny, traitorous part of her wished he actually cared.
But she quickly dismissed the thought.
- Writer
