His Forgotten Bride

CHAPTER 1 “Perfect!” Mavy, my manager, exclaimed enthusiastically after the shoot ended. I walked toward the dressing room and tiredly sat in front of the vanity mirror. My three personal assistants immediately surrounded me, fixing my makeup and hair. Powder here, lipstick there—just another typical scene in the life of a model. “Oh my gosh! You’re literally the definition of perfection, Alliyah,” Mavy gushed as he followed behind me. I grimaced and shook my head slightly. If only you knew. If only all of you knew. “Beautiful, sexy, rich—everything men could ever admire,” he continued dramatically, pointing at my entire figure. I rolled my eyes at him through the mirror and let out a deep breath. “Stop it, Mavy. You know how much I hate compliments,” I muttered. He clicked his tongue and flipped his imaginary long hair. “Oh please, Alliyah! I don’t know if you’re just humble or if you genuinely hate hearing the truth. If I had a face and body like yours, I wouldn’t only flaunt it on the runway. I’d parade around the kitchen, living room—even the bathroom!” he declared before giggling. “You’re impossible, Mavy Clark,” I said, shaking my head. His face instantly twisted in mock offense. “Oh my gosh! My ears, oh my gosh!” he cried dramatically while covering them with his fingers. I chuckled softly before grabbing my phone from the vanity table. The moment I saw the caller ID, my expression turned blank. I lazily swiped the answer button and placed the phone against my ear. “Are you done?” a cold baritone voice asked from the other line. “Yeah,” I answered simply while signaling my assistants to stop. They immediately stepped away and allowed me to fix my things on my own. “Jeremy will pick you up,” he said before ending the call. I sighed deeply and slipped my phone into my bag. “Do I have any schedules this week?” I asked while looking at Mavy through the mirror. He pouted. “There was supposed to be one in Paris, but you refused the international photoshoot,” he said with disappointment evident in his voice. It’s not that I don’t like it. “You’ve been getting so many offers abroad, but you reject every single one of them. You’re missing out on huge opportunities, Alliyah,” he reminded me. I forced a smile and slung my bag over my shoulder. Walking toward him, I gently patted his shoulder. “I’m already content here in the Philippines, Mavy.” He stared at me for a moment before sighing. “If that’s really your decision, there’s nothing I can do. Your schedule’s free this week, just like you requested.” I smiled once more and thanked him before finally leaving. The moment I stepped outside the building, five bodyguards immediately surrounded me. Camera flashes flickered nonstop while I walked toward the car sent by the man I spoke to earlier. But the moment I entered the backseat, I froze. I cleared my throat and composed myself after seeing the unexpected person sitting beside me. “You really like cameras, huh?” the man beside me said. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and simply stared out the window where the paparazzi from earlier were still standing. Thankfully, they couldn’t see us because of the heavily tinted windows. “I’m a model, Terrence. It’s natural,” I reasoned. As if you didn’t know how much I wanted to become a model back then. Or maybe… You just forgot. He didn’t say another word and merely signaled the driver to start moving. I felt him lean back against the seat. I didn’t bother looking at him anymore as exhaustion slowly crept into my body after facing cameras for two straight hours. I was about to close my eyes when he spoke again. “You got an offer in Paris?” he asked coldly. I let out a deep sigh before lazily glancing at him. His eyes immediately met mine. I wasn’t surprised he knew. Knowing Terrence and his connections, nothing really shocked me anymore. I’d probably be more surprised if he didn’t know about the offers coming my way. “Don’t worry. I turned it down,” I replied bitterly. “Good,” he said simply before leaning back once more. I just shook my head and continued what I had planned to do earlier—sleep. “Stay here. Don’t leave. Don’t go far.” I heard him whisper those words before darkness finally consumed me. --- “MA’AM.” I woke up to a gentle tap on my shoulder. My eyes wandered around the room and I realized I was already inside my bedroom… inside my husband’s mansion. That’s right. I’m married to the man beside me earlier—Terrence. I gave Manang Cecille, the mansion’s housekeeper, a small smile before slowly sitting up. “What time is it, Manang?” I asked politely while fixing my robe. My cheeks suddenly warmed at the thought that Terrence had changed my clothes again. That jerk. “It’s already ten in the evening, hija. Sir asked me to wake you up so you could eat,” she answered. “Is he still here?” I asked. We may live under the same roof, but we sleep in separate rooms—something he wanted from the very beginning. “Yes. He’s in his room with—” The old woman stopped herself and lowered her head awkwardly. I sighed and gently tapped her shoulder. “It’s okay, Manang. I’m already used to it. You don’t have to hide it anymore.” She looked at me with pity. “Why don’t you just leave him, hija?” I averted my gaze. “Because I love him,” I answered softly. I looked back at her and forced a smile when the pity in her eyes deepened. “I can still endure it,” I added. Manang Cecille sighed before pulling me into a hug. “I hope your suffering for him will eventually lead somewhere,” she whispered. Impossible. But hopefully. “You can go downstairs first, Manang. I’ll follow after,” I said once we pulled away from each other. She nodded and left the room. I fixed myself in front of the mirror for a few more seconds. My brows furrowed when I noticed my makeup had already been removed. I simply shrugged it off, assuming Manang had done it because there was no way Terrence would know anything about makeup. The only thing he ever did was change my clothes. Once satisfied with my appearance, I stepped out of the room. I suddenly stopped walking when I passed by Terrence’s bedroom. A bitter smile escaped my lips after hearing soft moans coming from inside. This wasn’t new to me anymore, yet it still hurt. More than two years had already passed since Terrence and I got married—more than two years of enduring the countless women he brought into this mansion. Almost three years of asking myself why this was happening to me… to us. What mistake did I make? Why does he keep me hidden as his wife? But until now, the answers remain blank. I snapped back to reality when his bedroom door suddenly opened. There he stood, staring at me with a serious expression, wearing nothing but his boxers. I was the first to look away before continuing my walk downstairs. Before I could get far, I heard him call one of his men and order them to send the woman away. A dry, weak laugh escaped my lips as I continued descending the stairs. Hearing those kinds of orders from him was nothing new. He’s a mafia boss after all. A ruthless one. And I, Alliyah Ryde… am his wife.