Chapter 11
1028 Words
Liyro's POV
I didn't go to her first. I went to the canvas.
I stood in front of the portrait, stripping off my blazer and tossing it onto a chair. I spent three days in Manila thinking of nothing but this moment. The meetings, the billions of pesos, the power—it all felt like background noise compared to the hunger I felt to see how she perceived me.
I looked at the painting. It was visceral. Dark.
She hadn't painted the CEO or the Professor. She had painted a shadow with obsidian eyes, a figure draped in gold that looked more like chains than fabric. It was a portrait of a monster, but it was painted with such intimate detail—the curve of my jaw, the specific way I held my glasses—that it proved she had been studying me as intensely as I had been auditing her.
"It's haunting, Elara," I whispered, my voice echoing in the vast room.
Lumapit siya sa akin. I felt my breath hitch. I waited for the anger, for the cold snap of his voice because I portrayed him as a villain. Pero nang hawakan niya ang baba ko para iharap ako sa kanya, nakita ko ang isang kakaibang kinang sa mga mata niya. Satisfaction.
"You see the darkness in me," he murmured, his thumb brushing against my lower lip. "And yet, you captured it so perfectly. It means you're finally paying attention. You're finally learning that I am the only reality you have left."
"I hate it," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I hate that I can see you even when my eyes are closed."
Liyro smirked, a dark, triumphant expression. "That is the goal, Mrs. Ferrer. Total immersion."
Liyro's POV
I felt a rare surge of generosity. I had won. She was in my house, wearing my ring, carrying my name, and now, she was haunted by my image. I decided to give her a "gift"—the kind of gift that acts as a final nail in a coffin.
"Since you've been such a dedicated artist while I was away, I'm going to give you a reward," I said, leading her toward the balcony where a laptop sat on the marble table. "A chance to see the world you left behind. For one day, Elara, you can ask for anything. Anything at all regarding your past."
Nanginig ang buong pagkatao ko. Anything?
"Julián," I gasped. "I want to know where he is. I want to see him."
Liyro's face didn't change. He simply opened the laptop and turned the screen toward me. My heart stopped. It was a digital copy of a high-society magazine's front page, dated for next week.
"THE WEDDING OF THE CENTURY: Julián Valerius and Sofia Zobel-Villarreal."
There was a photo of him. He looked different. His messy artist's hair was gone, replaced by a sleek, corporate cut. He was wearing a tuxedo that matched his father's status. Beside him was a beautiful woman, her hand possessively on his arm. He wasn't smiling, but he looked... settled.
"He's marrying her, Elara," Liyro's voice was like a cold scalpel. "The moment you 'disappeared' and the marriage certificate between us was leaked to his father, Julián realized that the 'orphan girl' had chosen the billionaire. He went back to his father. He accepted the inheritance. And he accepted Sofia."
Elara's POV
I felt the world tilt. The one thing that kept me breathing on this island—the belief that Julián was out there, fighting for me, waiting for me—shattered into a million jagged pieces.
"No... hindi niya gagawin 'yun," I sobbed, clutching the edge of the table. "Mahal niya ako. He promised..."
"Promises are for people who have a choice, Elara," Liyro said, stepping behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist, his heat a stark contrast to the coldness in my chest.
"He chose survival. Just like you did. Today is his engagement party at the Valerius estate. Do you want to see it? Do you want me to fly you there in the stealth chopper? You can watch from the shadows. That is your 'one wish.' You can see him one last time before he belongs to another woman forever."
Tumingin ako sa screen, sa mukha ni Julián na tila hindi na ako kilala. I realized the cruelty of Liyro's "gift." He wasn't giving me a chance to escape; he was giving me a chance to watch my own heart be executed.
If I go, I will see the man I love move on. I will see that the sacrifice I made—becoming Liyro's bed warmer, his prisoner, his wife—was for a man who couldn't even wait a month before replacing me.
"Go on, Elara," Liyro whispered, his lips grazing my ear, his hand sliding possessively over the gold band on my finger.
"Gusto mo ba siyang makita? I'll give you the day. One day to realize that you are truly, officially, alone in this world with me."
Elara's POV
I looked at the portrait I had painted—the monster in gold. Then I looked at the photo of Julián in his tuxedo. Two men, both belonging to a world of power that I could never understand. One had trapped me, and the other had forgotten me.
I felt a terrifyingly cold numbness wash over me. The "Ice Professor" had finally succeeded. He hadn't just taken my body; he had successfully audited my hope and found it bankrupt.
"No," I whispered, closing the laptop. "I don't want to see him. I don't want to go."
Liyro's grip tightened, but it wasn't painful. It was a victory hug.
"Wise choice, Elara. Why mourn a dead past when you have such a beautiful, permanent future here?" He turned me around in his arms, his eyes dark with a hunger that told me the "reunion" was about to begin.
I was weak, I was drained of hope, and for the first time, I didn't pull away when his mouth claimed mine. Because in a world where everyone had left me, the monster was the only one who stayed.
- Writer
