Chapter 4: For Show
944 Words
The scandal broke on a Tuesday morning.
“Kisses, you need to see this,” her assistant said, rushing into her office with a tablet in hand.
Kisses frowned. “What is it?”
The headline stared back at her.
VALDERRAMA HOLDINGS IN TROUBLE? NEW PARTNERSHIP A DESPERATE MOVE?
Below it was a photo.
Her.
And Darven.
From the elevator yesterday.
Too close.
Too intense.
The article speculated about instability. Internal conflict. A forced partnership. Investors questioning leadership.
Her jaw tightened. “This is ridiculous.”
“It’s spreading fast,” her assistant added nervously. “Share prices are starting to fluctuate.”
Perfect.
Moments later, the executive boardroom filled with tension thicker than usual. Investors appeared through video call screens, voices sharp and skeptical.
“This partnership looks unstable.”
“We need reassurance.”
“Is this a strategic alliance—or damage control?”
Kisses kept her composure, answering firmly, intelligently. But she could feel the doubt.
Then Darven leaned back in his chair, calm as ever.
“I have a solution,” he said.
All eyes turned to him.
“We announce something stronger than a business alliance.”
Kisses narrowed her eyes slightly. “Meaning?”
He looked at her.
Directly.
“Meaning we make it clear that this partnership is personal.”
Her heart skipped.
“Personal?” she repeated carefully.
He didn’t look away.
“Yes.”
The room went quiet.
One of the investors spoke. “Are you implying—”
Darven’s voice was smooth. Controlled.
“I’m implying that Kisses and I have a long history. And that our partnership is built on trust.”
Kisses felt heat crawl up her neck.
Trust.
“People believe stability when they see unity,” he continued. “If the public sees us aligned—not just professionally but personally—the rumors die.”
Her mind raced.
He couldn’t be suggesting—
“You want us to pretend,” she said flatly once the meeting adjourned and they were alone.
He stood slowly. “It wouldn’t be entirely pretend.”
She shot him a look.
“This is business,” he added calmly. “Appearances matter.”
“You want us to fake being together?” she asked, incredulous.
“For a while,” he replied. “Public events. Interviews. Investor meetings.”
“And what exactly are we supposed to act like?” she challenged.
His gaze darkened slightly.
“Like we never stopped.”
The air shifted.
“This is insane,” she said, pacing now. “We just found common ground after five years and you want to throw us into a media circus?”
“I want to protect the company,” he corrected. “And you.”
She stopped walking.
“Don’t,” she warned softly.
“Don’t what?”
“Use that tone.”
“What tone?”
“The one that makes it sound like you still care.”
His jaw tightened.
“I do care.”
The words were quiet.
Honest.
Dangerous.
Her pulse quickened despite her frustration.
“This is risky,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“And messy.”
“Probably.”
“And emotionally stupid.”
He stepped closer.
“Very.”
Silence.
They were close again.
Always close.
“But it will work,” he finished.
She studied him carefully.
The confident CEO. The man who built an empire. The man who once walked away.
And now he was asking to stand beside her.
Publicly.
Intimately.
Even if it was just for show.
“What are the rules?” she asked finally.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face—followed by something that looked almost like relief.
“Public displays of affection when necessary,” he said. “No crossing boundaries privately unless mutually agreed.”
Her eyebrow lifted.
“Professionals,” he added.
“Right,” she murmured.
He extended his hand.
“Partners?”
She looked at it.
Then at him.
Her heart whispered yes.
Her pride whispered run.
Slowly, she placed her hand in his.
“Partners.”
His fingers wrapped around hers—warm, steady.
Too steady.
“And Kisses?” he added quietly.
“Yes?”
“If we’re doing this… we have to be convincing.”
Her stomach fluttered.
“How convincing?”
His thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles.
“Very.”
That night, the first public appearance was announced.
“Cortez and Valderrama: Power Couple Leading the Future of Manila Business.”
The media ate it up.
At the charity gala, cameras flashed nonstop as Darven placed a possessive but respectful hand at the small of her back.
She wore a deep red gown.
He wore black.
They looked unstoppable.
Perfect.
And dangerously real.
“Smile,” he whispered near her ear as cameras snapped.
“I am smiling,” she whispered back.
“Not the CEO smile.”
Her breath hitched slightly when his fingers tightened at her waist.
“Then what smile?”
“The one you used to give me.”
Heat rushed through her veins.
“Careful,” she murmured. “You’re starting to sound like this isn’t fake.”
He leaned closer, lips inches from her ear.
“That’s the problem.”
Her pulse pounded.
Because standing under the flashing lights, surrounded by whispers and admiration—
It didn’t feel fake at all.
And for the first time since he left—
She felt like they were standing side by side again.
Not as rivals.
Not as broken lovers.
But as something dangerously close to real.
And the scariest part?
She wasn’t sure she wanted it to be pretend anymore.
- Writer
