Chapter 6: Monica's Suspicion
1005 Words
"Tell me, Vince... do I need to worry?" Monica asked coldly.
"Worry? Worry about what?" Vince replied absentmindedly as Monica suddenly appeared and took the chair across from him.
The man had barely noticed his own wife entering the room. Just moments ago, she had been standing in the distance while he was talking to Jade. And now, here she was... judging from the look on her face, she was clearly in a foul mood.
Vince knew Monica's personality all too well. From the way she carried herself and the tone of her voice alone, he already understood what she was trying to imply. She had always been jealous... and possessive.
Vince had his own office inside the Villareal mansion. Most of the time, he worked there since he was now in charge of managing the entire hacienda. His father, Don Menandro, had handed everything over to him the moment he married Monica.
It had all been part of their agreement years ago.
He would marry Monica, and in return, he would become the heir to the Villareal fortune.
Vince rubbed his forehead in frustration. His desk was piled high with documents waiting to be reviewed, but instead of working through them, he had chosen to drink.
And now Monica had followed him there.
From the tone of her voice, he could already tell that she was beginning to suspect there was something more between him and Jade.
A deep sigh escaped his lips.
Without answering, he poured himself another glass of expensive liquor and downed it in one gulp. The bitter taste burned his throat, instantly bringing back memories of Jade.
He unconsciously bit his lower lip.
Truthfully, he couldn't understand himself.
Why did every word Jade utter feel like a dagger piercing straight through his heart?
"Stressed?" Monica asked meaningfully as she studied his unusual behavior.
She had been observing him carefully for quite some time now, searching his face for any trace of the truth hidden behind his silence.
"What... are you trying to say, Monica? Why do I feel like you're implying something? You saw me drinking, and now you're already making all kinds of assumptions," Vince replied carelessly.
As much as he didn't want to, irritation had seeped into his voice.
Monica picked up his glass, poured herself some wine, and drank from it.
"Vince... do you know Jade?" she asked directly. "Were you two friends? Acquaintances? I don't know... did you know her before she became Primo's wife?"
Vince swallowed hard.
His hands instinctively clenched into fists.
He knew he could never tell Monica the truth.
It would only create problems.
The entire Villareal family would become the center of scandal.
What would people say?
That Primo's wife had once been his own girlfriend?
He admitted that he had never been ashamed of loving someone like Jade. She had been the only woman he had truly loved.
But he also couldn't deny another truth.
He wasn't exactly proud that a man like him—a well-educated heir from one of the most respected families in town—had once fallen in love with a woman from a completely different social class.
All his life, he had done nothing but obey his parents.
And now that he had finally obtained the wealth they had promised him, there was no way he would throw everything away.
Love had the power to weaken even the strongest of men.
And Vince refused to become weak...
Just like Primo.
His uncle cared nothing for the Villareal fortune.
A carefree man who now valued a woman like Jade more than the vast inheritance left behind by their grandparents.
That's right.
Primo was weak.
He had chosen freedom in love... even if it meant giving up a lifetime of luxury.
Vince screamed those words silently inside his mind.
"Look, Monica, I have no idea where Primo found that woman," Vince said, deliberately avoiding her gaze. "I only spoke to her because I have a feeling she's after my uncle's money. I just don't want Primo to get hurt."
He immediately reached for the documents on his desk and pretended to immerse himself in reading them, acting busy in hopes of ending Monica's growing suspicions.
"Well... I'm glad to hear that, dear husband," Monica replied. "You know you're a married man now. It's not appropriate for you to flirt with other women—especially your own uncle's wife. Besides, you said it yourself. You don't have a good feeling about that woman, so it's better if you stay away from her. And honestly, I don't think there's anything you can do about Primo anyway. Just let him make his own decisions. He's old enough to know what's good for him... and what's not."
Vince finally looked up, his sharp eyes meeting hers.
"Fine, Monica. Now can you please calm down? I don't like seeing you like this. Why don't you go shopping... or maybe spend the day at a spa? It might help you relax."
He still refused to look directly into her eyes.
"Then come with me," Monica pleaded softly. "Maybe you could keep me company, hon. I'm really bored here. All I ever see are cows and water buffaloes. I miss my old life."
Monica had grown up in the United States.
She had never wanted to settle in the Philippines.
But after marrying Vince—a wealthy haciendero—she had no choice but to stay if she wanted to be with her husband.
Their marriage had been arranged.
Yet Monica's love for Vince was genuine.
She had willingly sacrificed the life she had built abroad just to remain by his side.
Vince lifted his head and met her eyes.
For the first time that day, he noticed the longing in them.
She wasn't asking for riches.
She wasn't asking for gifts.
She was simply begging for a little of his time.
A wave of guilt washed over him.
"Alright," Vince finally said with a faint nod.
"Where would you like to go, Monica?"
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