Marry me, Mr. Mayor

CHAPTER 1

Third Person's POV

The food court lights were too bright for a moment like this.

Althea stood behind the counter of a small boutique stall, hands folded neatly, posture practiced. Her name tag read ALTHEA BALMES. The kind of name nobody stared at twice.

“Althea,” Daniel called, and the way he said it made her look up immediately.

He stood on the other side of the counter with a paper bag in one hand, his hair slightly damp, like he’d rushed. His smile was there—warm and familiar—but his eyes were restless, uncertain. His fingers tapped the bag once, twice, like he couldn’t hold still.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Did something happen?”

Daniel shook his head quickly. “No. Nothing happened.” He glanced around as if the crowd might overhear what he was about to do. “Can you take your break now? Please. Just five minutes.”

Something in his voice—soft, almost pleading—made her nod. She told her coworker she was stepping out, then followed him to a quieter corner near a pillar wrapped with seasonal banners.

Daniel set the bag down on the bench. His hands were shaking.

Althea’s chest tightened. “Dan… you’re scaring me.”

He exhaled like the air had been trapped inside him all day. “Okay,” he said, forcing a small laugh that didn’t sound like him. “Okay. I’m going to do this before I lose my nerve.”

He reached into his pocket and dropped to one knee.

The world didn’t stop, but Althea’s did. Her mouth went dry. Her fingers curled into her palms. She stared at him like she couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing, like her eyes needed permission to believe.

He opened a small velvet box. Inside was a ring—simple, classic, not flashy. It wasn’t the kind of thing meant to impress strangers. It was the kind of ring meant to mean something.

“Althea,” he said, voice shaking now, “I’ve tried to find the right words for months.” He swallowed. “I love you.”

Her throat tightened.

“I love you,” he repeated, as if saying it twice would make it sturdier. “I know I’m not rich. I know my life isn’t easy. But I swear I’ll work for you—work for us. I want a life with you that’s real.”

“Marry me,” he said, softer, almost desperate. “Let’s stop waiting for the perfect time. Let’s just… choose each other.”

For a heartbeat, Althea couldn’t breathe.

This was what she had wanted. To be chosen without her last name, without her family’s power hanging in the air like perfume. To be loved like she was only a girl standing under fluorescent lights, wearing a uniform and a name tag.

And yet happiness didn’t come alone. Fear rushed in behind it—fast and familiar—because Daniel didn’t know.

He didn’t know the girl he was proposing to wasn’t only a saleslady. He didn’t know that Althea Balmes was a borrowed life. That behind it was a surname heavy enough to tilt rooms.

Bailey.

Althea Bailey—the only child of the Baileys, a family so wealthy in Manila their name moved more than money. They owned several branches of Bailey Mall, the same chain whose polished floors she walked every day in disguise. And beyond the malls, the real power: ports in different parts of the Philippines, the kind of holdings that controlled shipments, routes, permits—trade that depended on sea crossings. Where other people worried about bills, the Baileys worried about cargo schedules and contracts big enough to change communities overnight.

Althea had grown up surrounded by smiles that never reached people’s eyes. Everyone was polite. Everyone was impressed. Everyone had something to gain. She learned early that her name made people bend in strange ways—voices softer, laughter louder, praise too quick, affection too eager. Even love felt dangerous when it arrived wrapped in ambition.

So she made a decision that shocked the people who protected her: she would disappear—at least publicly. She would hide her identity and work inside their own mall as someone ordinary. Not because it was glamorous to be “normal,” but because she needed proof that someone could care without calculating. She wanted to be seen without the Bailey name doing the seeing for her.

Her parents argued at first. Security tightened their rules. But Althea insisted. She dressed plainly, tied her hair back, wore minimal makeup, and put on a saleslady’s uniform. A name tag replaced a family title.

Then she met Daniel.

He was warm in a world that often felt cold. He didn’t ask for favors.

Still, Althea kept her secret.

“Althea?” Daniel whispered, worry flickering across his face. “Say something.”

Her lips trembled. Her chest ached with everything she wasn’t saying.

“Yes,” she managed, and the word came out softer than she expected.

Daniel’s face broke open with relief. He stood up too fast, laughing under his breath like he couldn’t believe it. His hands shook as he slipped the ring onto her finger.

He hugged her tightly, and for a second Althea closed her eyes and let herself pretend fear didn’t exist.

When he pulled back, Daniel’s eyes shone. “We’re really doing this,” he whispered.

“We’re really doing this,” Althea echoed, even as the ring felt heavier than it should.

“We should get married soon,” Daniel said, voice eager now, as if saying it quickly would keep it real. “Civil wedding. Simple. Strong. No drama.”

Her stomach tightened at the word drama, but she kept her expression calm. “Why civil?”

“Less complicated,” he answered. “It’s the safest way.” He hesitated, then smiled like it was a gift. “And I want to take you home. I want you to meet my parents.”

Daniel squeezed her hand, promised to call later, then rushed away with a grin that looked like happiness.

Althea stayed where she was, staring at the ring glittering under mall lights. Beautiful. Terrifying. She pressed her thumb against the band as if she could feel the future through metal.

A quiet voice inside her whispered, You can’t hide forever.

Althea swallowed, forcing a steady breath.

For now, she told herself. Just a little longer.