Obsessed ang Teacher ko Sa’kin

Chapter 12

Liyro's POV

One month.

In thirty days, I have dismantled a scholarship, erased an artist's future, and replaced a struggling lover with a diamond-clad wife. As the black limousine pulled into the long, winding driveway of the Ferrer estate, I looked at Elara. She was wearing a dress of pure white silk, a stark contrast to the hollow shadows under her eyes. She looked like a ghost being returned to the scene of a crime.

"Smile, Elara," I said, adjusting the cuffs of my suit. "My mother has been eager to meet the woman who finally 'tamed' her eldest son. Don't make me look like a man who had to force his bride's happiness."

Naramdaman ko ang lamig ng aircon sa loob ng sasakyan, pero mas matindi ang lamig na nagmumula sa tabi ko. I looked at the gold band on my finger, then at the massive white gates opening for us. Ito ang White Mansion. Ang lugar kung saan nakatira ang pamilyang tinitingala ng buong bansa.

And I was entering it as a trophy. Isang koleksyon ni Liyro.

"Liyro, please... huwag dito," bulong ko. "Alam nilang lahat na estudyante mo ako. Anong sasabihin nina Ma'am Alyssa at Sir Lucas?"

"They will say what I tell them to say," he replied, his voice a flat, iron line. "You are a Ferrer now. That name is a shield and a cage. Learn to wear it."

Elara's POV

The doors of the mansion swung open, and the entire Ferrer clan was waiting. Alyssa looked as elegant as ever, her eyes sharp and searching. Lucas stood tall, the patriarch of the empire. And behind them, the five siblings— Lorenz, Lira, Lara, Liam and Liana—all staring at me with a mix of shock and curiosity.

"Liyro," Alyssa said, stepping forward. She didn't look at her son; she looked at me. "So, the rumors are true. You married your student in secret. A Santos? From the scholarship list?"

"She is my wife, Mother," Liyro said, his hand sliding possessively around my waist, his fingers digging into my side. "It's our one-month anniversary. I thought it was time she saw her new home."

The dinner was a nightmare of silver and silence.

Nasa gitna ako ng mahabang lamesa, katabi ni Liyro. Every time I tried to speak, he would answer for me. He was controlling the narrative, auditing my every move in front of his parents.

"I heard you were an artist, Elara," Lorenz said, breaking the tension with a smirk. "Does Kuya let you paint? O baka naman portrait niya lang ang pinapagawa niya sa'yo gabi-gabi?"

Liyro's grip on his wine glass tightened. "She is retired from the public eye, Lorenz. Her art is for me alone."

"Retired? At twenty-two?" Lira asked, her brow furrowing. "But you were so talented, Elara. Why give it all up for... this?"

"Because she realized that a Ferrer can offer her a canvas the world cannot," Liyro answered, his eyes meeting mine. "Right, Elara?"

I looked down at my plate, the expensive steak tasting like ash. "Yes... right."

Liyro's POV

After dinner, I led her to my old bedroom—the room where I grew up, the room that was now a prison for two. I closed the door and locked it, the click of the bolt sounding like a gunshot in the quiet mansion.

"You did well," I whispered, pulling her into my arms. "My parents are suspicious, but they won't challenge me. They know I don't make mistakes."

"Is this it, Liyro?" Elara asked, her voice cracking as she looked at the photos of his childhood on the walls. "Is this the rest of my life? A dinner guest in a house that hates me? A bed warmer in a mansion of glass?"

"This is your anniversary gift, Elara," I said, my voice turning dark and erotic as I began to unbutton her dress. "A seat at the table of the gods. And tonight, I'm going to show you exactly why you belong here."

He was relentless. Sa loob ng kwartong iyon, sa gitna ng mansion ng kanyang mga magulang, Liyro was even more possessive. He wanted me to be loud, to make sure his family knew I was his, but I buried my face in the pillow, sobbing quietly as he claimed me once again.

I felt weak. I felt drained of every ounce of dignity I had left. I was in the heart of the White Mansion, surrounded by luxury, but all I could think about was the orphan girl who used to eat fishballs in Cubao and dream of a love that didn't have a price tag.

"Happy anniversary, Elara," Liyro whispered against my skin, his breath hot and triumphant.

I didn't answer. I just watched the shadows of the Ferrer family legacy dance on the ceiling, knowing that I was now part of the ink that wrote their dark, secret history.