PROLOGUE
600 Words
The grand chandeliers of the Montemayor mansion cast their golden glow over the opulent master bedroom, yet the room felt colder than winter. Alea stood near the bed, her delicate fingers trembling as they gripped the hem of her wedding dress. The intricate lace and pearls that adorned her gown seemed mocking, a cruel reminder of a love she would never have.
Her gaze fell on Damon Aurelio Caldera Montemayor, her husband of mere hours, who was unbuttoning his shirt near the window. The city lights outside reflected in his sharp, chiseled features, highlighting the indifference in his dark, piercing eyes. He didn't look at her—not even once. To him, she was nothing more than an obligation, a transaction sealed with a contract.
Alea took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage to speak. "Damon..." Her voice cracked, betraying her nerves.
He finally turned, his eyes cold and calculating. "What?" The word came out sharp, cutting through the suffocating silence.
Her heart sank. She had prepared herself for his aloofness, but hearing it still stung. "Hindi ko ginusto ang kasal na ito... pero hindi ko rin kasalanan. Pareho tayong biktima dito."
Damon let out a low, humorless laugh. "Biktima? Huwag mo akong isama sa drama mo, Alea. Alam kong pumayag ka dahil sa pera. Don't act like you're innocent."
His words hit her like a slap. She clenched her fists, fighting back tears.
"Ginawa ko ito para sa pamilya ko. Hindi mo naiintindihan—"
"Hindi ko kailangan maintindihan," he cut her off, his tone icy.
"Gawin mo ang papel mo bilang asawa ko, and I'll stay out of your way. Simple."
Alea felt her chest tighten. His words weren't just cruel; they were final. There would be no room for compromise, no chance for understanding.
Damon approached her, his tall frame towering over her small, trembling figure. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, yet his words were as cold as ice. "One thing you need to remember, Alea. You'll never have my heart. I already gave it to someone else."
Her knees buckled, but she refused to show weakness. She straightened her spine and met his gaze, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I never asked for your heart, Damon. Pero sana man lang, bilang tao, respeto ang ibigay mo sa akin."
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned away and grabbed a pillow, tossing it onto the couch across the room.
"You'll sleep here," he said flatly, pointing at the bed. "I'll stay on the couch."
Without another word, he settled onto the couch and turned his back to her, dismissing her completely.
Alea stood frozen, the weight of her reality crashing down on her. Her hands trembled as she reached up to remove her veil, the soft fabric falling to the floor like a broken dream. She sat on the edge of the bed, her head bowed as silent tears streamed down her face.
In the silence of the night, the sound of her sobs was almost deafening.
She stared out the window, where the city glittered in the distance, mocking her with its liveliness. Somewhere out there was Samantha, Damon's true love. Alea clenched her fists, a bitter smile playing on her lips.
"Walang puso... walang pagmamahal..." she whispered to herself.
This wasn't a marriage. It was a cage.
And in that moment, Alea vowed to herself that she would survive. If Damon Montemayor refused to acknowledge her as his wife, she would find her own worth—even if it meant walking away from him someday.
- Writer
