Prologue
Marcus Aurelius Saavedra had everything—wealth, power, and a future laid out in blueprints. But none of it mattered. Not when the one thing he truly wanted had slipped through his fingers.
He sat in his office, skimming the bill of quantities for his latest construction project in Cebu City. It should have demanded his full attention. Instead, his mind kept drifting—until his phone rang.
The ringtone was specific. It belonged to someone wildly persistent.
He didn’t check the caller ID. He already knew.
“Good morning, and yes, Mom?” he said nonchalantly.
His mother’s voice held an amused lilt. “Good morning, M.A.”
His family and close friends called him M.A., an abbreviation of his long name. Right now, it felt more like a warning.
“Anyway, I called because I wanted to ask you something.”
Marcus sighed heavily. “Mom, if you’re about to ask when I’ll get married, I won’t answer that. I’m still looking for her.”
Pain flickered in his dark brown eyes. Still looking. Still waiting.
“M.A., it’s been a year since she left. Maybe it’s time to move on.” His mother’s tone hardened. “You are not getting any younger.”
His grip tightened on the phone. “Mom, if it’s not her, I might as well die alone.”
And just like that, he ended the call.
Marcus exhaled sharply, his chest tightening as a name echoed in his mind.
Cori Sifuentes.
Or rather, Corinthians Sifuentes.
She had that effect on him. The butterflies in his stomach. The racing heartbeat. To others, it was an abnormality. To him, it was love.
He met her when he was eight and knew she was the one. He realized he loved her at fifteen. He started courting her at eighteen. They had been together for seven years.
Then, she left.
It was like the way Tom Hansen first saw Summer Finn—an instant, undeniable connection. Only in Marcus’s case, his Summer walked away.
Another sigh. Another attempt to push the memory aside.
His phone buzzed with a message, but before he could check, his secretary stepped in.
“Sir, Miss Cervantes is here to personally deliver the documents from Cervantes Construction Firm.”
He rubbed his temple. “Let her in.”
A few moments later, the door opened, and a woman walked in with quiet confidence.
She was stunning.
She wore a fitted burgundy corset-style top, hugging her curves with effortless grace. A cropped black shrug covered her arms, the long sleeves adding an air of understated elegance. High-waisted black jeans accentuated her figure, and instead of office pumps, she wore sturdy black ankle boots with lace-up details—rebellious, yet practical.
A simple black choker adorned her neck, the delicate charm resting just above her collarbone.
But it was her eyes that caught him.
Hazel. Hypnotizing.
Marcus couldn’t look away. He didn’t blink.
Her face was ethereal—heart-shaped, with a delicate, straight nose and lips that looked too inviting for his sanity. Her wavy brown hair was tied in a ponytail, a few loose strands framing her face.
She looked unworldly. Beguiling. Dangerous.
A thought crossed his mind, unbidden.
Damn. I am in so much danger.
Then she spoke.
“Cruella Cervantes from Cervantes Construction Firm.”
Their eyes locked.
Cruella’s mind raced as she took in the man before her.
How many women cried over this man?
His messy black hair, dark brown eyes, sharp nose, and sinful lips—all framed by a stubborn jawline and a well-toned body that hinted at strength beneath his crisp shirt.
This man screamed gorgeousness in every aspect.
Marcus stood and stretched out a hand. “Hi.” His voice came out rough. He cleared his throat. “Marcus Aurelius Saavedra.”
She hesitated.
Her gaze flicked to his outstretched hand. Should I?
Finally, she shook it.
The moment their hands touched, her pulse betrayed her.
It felt like she had just run a five-hundred-kilometer marathon—and lost.
