FIFTEEN
1295 Words
Marissa
I hadn't expected Hector to take the fake dating thing so seriously. In fact, I regretted ever bringing it up.
He showed up everywhere. He acted like my boyfriend. It was suffocating.
First, there was yesterday morning. We had barely stepped into the office when Hector strolled in with two cups of coffee, casually handing one to me like it was our new thing.
"For my girl," he said with a teasing wink, ignoring how I rolled my eyes. I had accepted it out of courtesy, but was uncomfortable.
He walked me to the break room. He reminded me to act like a couple. He was enjoying it too much.
And an hour ago, he had pushed it even further, suggesting we do a movie night.
"I'll order some pizza and come by your room," he said.
That was the last straw.
I didn’t want to see anybody, so with my jacket snug around my shoulders, I stepped into the hallway, keeping my steps light. My room was too close to Hector’s, and the last thing I wanted was for him to hear me and come knocking, asking why I was avoiding him.
The air outside was crisp, and the night was settling in. I walked further away from the building, down the road. I didn't have a place in mind—just moving and trying to clear my head.
Spotting a sports bar across the street, my steps slowed. I had always loved sports—something my brother, Brian, and I used to bond over. If I hadn’t studied law, I might have entered sports journalism or sports management. It was one of the few things that made me genuinely happy.
Needing a distraction, I crossed the street and pushed open the glass door, stepping inside. The scent of beer, fried food, and sweat immediately hit me. As expected, the bar was packed—mostly with males shouting at the screen or engaging in conversation.
I kept my head down and moved toward a barstool in the corner, adjusting my jacket. I wasn’t exactly dressed for a night out—leggings, an oversized sweater, and sneakers—but I wasn’t here to impress anyone, so it didn’t matter.
"What will it be?" The bartender, a chubby man with tattoos all over, sauntered over.
"A beer. Thanks."
He nodded and turned to grab a bottle. I sat on the stool, letting the game roar fill the silence in my head.
Then my nose twitched.
Something was off.
I sniffed the air again. A familiar scent filled my nostrils, and my pulse spiked.
I turned around sharply, scanning the room.
Then I saw him.
At the far end of the bar, seated in a booth. His right arm draped over the backrest in that effortlessly dominant position.
Seated across from him was someone I had seen before. He definitely worked at the Government House. I didn’t know his name, but I had seen him several times with Justin. They seemed to be close.
I turned back to the bar.
I hadn’t expected to see Justin here. And worse, I was underdressed.
Sinking deep into my seat, I adjusted my hoodie until it covered half my face and took slow sips of my beer, trying to make myself as small as possible.
The energy in the sports bar was charged, and the crowd erupted in cheers as the game unfolded on the massive screen. I barely paid attention. My mind was elsewhere.
Why had Justin never reacted to my scent?
Could it truly be one-sided?
My fingers clenched around the cold glass. The thought had crossed my mind countless times, but I'd always brushed it aside.
He was pretending, refusing to acknowledge it. He enjoyed watching me twist and humiliate myself.
I forced myself to focus on the screen as the second half of the game resumed, but a commotion erupted at the back of the bar.
Two men gripping the other by the collar were arguing loudly. Their voices cut through the noise of the match.
"You think I’m playing with you?" The more violent one shook the other man by his shirt. "I swear on my ancestors, if you don’t pay me before this weekend, I’ll f**k your wife, turn your kids into slaves, and sell everything you own."
A few people turned their heads briefly, more annoyed at the interruption than concerned.
"You two, get out and handle your nonsense outside!" someone yelled.
"Yeah, some of us are trying to watch the damn game!"
But they didn't listen.
Justin got up and approached them with an air of authority that demanded attention. The moment he spoke, the bar fell silent.
"Now, explain to me what the hell is going on."
The trembling man stumbled forward. "Your Highness, this man is trying to ruin my life!" he cried out, pointing at the other. "I bought a piece of land from him years ago, and at the time, it was cheap. But before I could pay him back, the government bought land in that area and turned it into a commercial hub. He has tripled the price and wants me to pay everything at once. I don’t have that kind of money!"
Justin’s eyes cut to the creditor. "Is that true?"
"It’s business, my Lord. The land value has increased. Why should I let him get it at a lower price? If he wants it, he must pay what it’s worth now. If not, I’ll take it back."
Justin chuckled. "So let me get this straight. You let this man have the land on credit while it was cheap, and now that it’s valuable, you’re trying to exploit him?"
"It’s only fair," the creditor said, straightening his shoulders.
But Justin refused.
"How much does he owe you?" he asked the debtor.
The creditor named a figure—a ridiculous amount.
"I’ll clear his debt."
Everyone gasped in shock. The debtor’s knees buckled, and he fell to the floor, prostrating before Justin.
"Your Highness," his voice cracked, "I have nothing to give you in return, but may the goddess bless you. May she grant you strength, a long life, and—"
"Enough," Justin cut him off.
People reached for their phones, racing to take pictures or record. Justin’s eyes darkened.
"If I find out that anyone leaks this, I will track you down and ruin you."
Everyone lowered their phones immediately, and Justin walked back to his booth.
I hadn’t meant to stare. I sat there, watching him, absorbing every word and action. And somehow, along the way, admiration had crept into my gaze without me realizing it.
Justin was a spoiled brat. Arrogant. Dismissive. Infuriatingly detached.
Yet here he was, clearing a man’s debt without hesitation.
He didn’t even want the act recorded or spoken about.
It wasn’t the first time I had read about his quiet generosity. There were reports about his visits to warriors’ widows, the orphans he had helped train, and the donations he funneled into schools and shelters.
I had always assumed it was just PR—an attempt to polish his image and make him appear more kind than he really was. But looking at him now made me realize they were right.
My heart thudded.
I had spent so much time in my bitterness and confusion over our bond that I never looked at him.
My gaze was still locked on him, lingering longer than it should have.
Justin turned his head.
His hazel eyes found mine.
Holy s**t.
My stomach flipped, and warmth spread to my cheeks.
I snapped my head away.
Stupid. Stupid.
Why did I look for so long?
I sipped my drink, forcing myself to focus on the game.
But my face still burned.
- Writer
