First Temptation: The Billionaire's Game

CHAPTER 10

“Giiirl. THIS is how the other half lives?!”

Sumabog ang boses ni Trixie sa hallway the moment tinanggap siya ng security ng mansion. Naka-wide brim hat pa siya at oversized sunglasses, parang paparating sa Rich Housewives of Batangas.

“Akala ko mansion lang. Pero girl, ito ay Spanish hacienda with mafia drama vibes. I swear may lalabas na lang na kabayong may dalang threat letter any moment.”

Tumatawa akong sinalubong siya, pilit siyang hinila papasok para hindi marinig ng mga staff. “Keep your voice down! Baka marinig ka ni—”

“Ni Mister Madrigal?” she cut in, eyes gleaming. She raised a perfectly arched brow, sabay tanggal ng shades niya dramatically.

“You mean Daddy Dark and Dangerous? b***h, I’d scream his name for free if he looked at me the way he looks at you.”

“Trixie!” napabulong-sigaw ako, namumula ang mukha. Napalingon ako agad sa corridor para masigurong walang staff or CCTV na saksi sa kabaliwan niya.

“Don’t ‘Trixie’ me, hoe. Spill the damn tea,” sabay kapit sa braso ko like she was a sexy FBI agent investigating my sins. “Ano na? Nakagat ka na ba niya? O ikaw ang kumagat?”

I groaned. “Wala kaming ganun.”

“Sure,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Kaya ka namumutla, nahihilo, at biglang gumaganda sa pictures, no? That man is doing things to you from across the room.”

“Wala nga!” I insisted, dragging her toward my room. “Besides, hindi siya ‘yung type mo, di ba? Medyo… intense?”

“Ibang usapan na pag ‘intense’ ang katawan at mukha, sis. Besides…” she leaned closer, whispering like she was revealing state secrets, “...he looks like the kind of man who ruins you, then writes poetry about it in blood ink.”

I threw a pillow at her. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re in denial,” she sing-songed, catching the pillow and throwing it back. “Let me get this straight: you’re living under one roof with a man that looks like Xander Madrigal, may s****l tension, may mystery, may pagka-walking-red-flag—and hindi mo pa siya hinahalikan?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it again.

Her grin turned wicked. “b***h,” she whispered, “you’re in trouble.”

By the time we reached my room, parang siya pa ang may-ari. She walked around like she was on a property tour, wine glass in hand, chin up, eyes scanning every antique detail.

“Okay,” sabi ni Trixie, naupo sa kama ko as if it were hers, “spill. For real na. No more pa-cute. Anong meron sa inyo ni Sir Dark and Brooding?”

“Nothing,” sagot ko agad, pero ang hina ng boses ko, para akong guilty sa kasong ‘desire under restraint.’ Obvious na obvious.

She raised one perfectly shaped brow.

I sighed and flopped on the bed beside her. “I mean… it’s not like he kissed me or anything.”

“But you want him to,” she said, matter-of-factly. As if she was just reading what’s written all over my face.

I stared at the ceiling. “Maybe.”

“Okay, let’s analyze,” Trixie said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “One—he looks at you like you’re a puzzle he wants to take apart slowly, with his tongue. Two—you’ve been weird and distracted since you got here. And three—you haven’t once complained about the no-phone rule. Meaning, you’ve found something more addicting than doom-scrolling.”

“His presence,” I whispered, not realizing I said it out loud.

Trixie’s eyes glinted. “Ayun na nga. Confirmed.”

I groaned. “He’s… intense.”

“Obviously.”

“Mysterious.”

“CIA-level. FBI-certified.”

“Rough around the edges. Controlling. Dangerous.”

“Ugh,” she whispered with a dreamy sigh. “So basically... the fantasy.”

I shook my head, pulling a blanket over my face. “No. He makes me feel like I’m being watched and protected at the same time. Like he knows things about me I haven’t even said out loud. Parang... parang may hawak siyang version ng sarili ko na hindi ko pa kilala.”

Trixie went quiet.

Then she sat up straight and gently set her wine glass down on the bedside table. Her tone shifted.

“Oh,” she said softly. “That kind of man.”

I nodded under the blanket.

“And how do you feel about that?” tanong niya, this time not as a nosy bestie, but as someone who knew exactly how that felt.

“I want to kiss him,” I admitted, eyes closed, “but I’m scared of what happens after.”

She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Cass… you’ve always been the one in control. Even back in college, ikaw ang nagde-decide kung sino, kailan, paano. You call the shots.”

I looked at her.

“But this guy?” she continued. “He’s the first one who made you lose your grip. Who made you feel things without doing anything.”

I swallowed hard.

“But what if he’s really dangerous?” I asked in a whisper. “Not just emotionally… I mean, what if may tinatago talaga siya?”

“Then you walk away,” she said with a small, sad smile.

“And if I can’t?”

“Then you fall,” she whispered. “And pray he’s the kind of dangerous that catches you… Instead of letting you break.”

Later that night…

Tahimik na ulit ang mansion.

Pagkaalis ni Trixie, pakiramdam ko parang sumabog ang dami ng sinabi niya at ngayon lang tumahimik ang echo sa utak ko.

I needed air.

I needed distance.

Pero imbes na magpahinga, ayun ako—nakatayo sa may bintana ng kwarto, nakasandal ang palad sa malamig na salamin habang nakatanaw sa dilim ng garden.

And there he was.

Xander.

Shirtless.

Wearing only black joggers, hair slightly damp, boxing wraps on his hands.

Alone under the dim moonlight and flickering garden lights, hitting the punching bag like it owed him answers.

Hindi siya mukhang galit.

Hindi rin mukhang nagpapraktis lang.

Masyado siyang tahimik para sa gano’n.

This wasn’t training.

This was control.

Parang every hit, every movement, every breath—was a battle with something he was keeping buried. Something he didn’t want to unleash.

God.

Even from here, he looked… lethal.

Powerful.

And heartbreakingly lonely.

Tumigil siya sandali. Humigop ng hangin. Tumingala.

His chest rising and falling, muscles tense, sweat dripping down his back.

Parang may silent war siyang kinakalaban. Isa na siguro ako ro’n.

Napalunok ako.

I should’ve looked away.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

Because for the first time since I stepped into this world—his world—I saw more than just the mystery.

I saw the man behind the armor.

Xander Madrigal wasn’t just dark and dangerous.

He was damaged.

And maybe, just maybe… that’s why I couldn’t stop being drawn to him.

Not because he looked at me like I was temptation—but because he looked at himself like he didn’t deserve to touch me.

And that broke something in me.

I pressed my fingertips against the glass. “What are you hiding from, Xander?”

As if naramdaman niya, bigla siyang tumingin sa direksyon ko.

Direct hit.

Our eyes met through the shadows, and my breath caught in my throat.

He didn’t flinch.

Hindi siya ngumiti.

Pero hindi rin siya umiwas.

He just… watched me watching him.

Then slowly, he tilted his head.

His tongue dragged across his bottom lip. Controlled. Calculated.

Like a silent dare.

You want danger?

Here I am.

I blinked. A second too late.

Because the moment I did—wala na siya.

Umatras siya sa dilim, tuluyan nang nawala sa paningin ko. Leaving me breathless. Frustrated. Shaken.

And aching in ways I didn’t want to name.

I stumbled back from the window, pressing a hand to my chest.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” I whispered to the empty room.

Because this man—this storm in human form—was pulling me in deeper.

And I didn’t know if I was falling for him...

...or drowning in him.

Fashion review in the mansion

The east wing of the mansion was glowing.

Hindi siya ‘yung tipong glow na cozy lang — no. It was deliberate. Precise. A space transformed into something that looked like it belonged to Milan, Paris, or New York.

Soft ambient lighting bathed the walls in gold. Neutral backdrops made everything feel expensive but intimate. Racks of garments lined the edges — each one bearing the fingerprints of my obsession, my frustration, my tears, and my late-night caffeine-fueled tantrums.

This wasn’t just a showcase.

This was a battlefield.

And tonight?

Tonight, I showed up in full armor.

“Ready ka na ba?” tanong ni Monique, habang inaayos ang final pin sa isa sa mga models na halos hindi makahinga sa corset ko.

“‘Cause if I were Xan,” she added with a smirk, “mapapaatras ako sa confidence level mo ngayon, girl.”

Napangiti ako, kahit ramdam ko pa rin ang panginginig sa mga daliri ko. My palms were clammy. My stomach, a pit of nerves. Pero sa labas?

I was all poise.

Cassie Villareal.

Wearing a custom white silk slip dress with a deep V and a slit high enough to make the interns whisper. Hair slicked back in a fierce high ponytail. No flashy accessories. No designer heels na hindi ko naman gawa.

Just me.

My work.

My name.

And somewhere in the crowd of invited mentors, design scouts, select guests, and trusted Madrigal staff—

There he was.

Xan.

Leaning against a marble column like some shadowed sculpture.

Black shirt. Black slacks. No tie. No smile. Just dark, watchful eyes tracking every inch of the room — including me.

Especially me.

My pulse tripped the moment our eyes met.

And for a flicker of a second?

I saw it.

Pride.

Possession.

Maybe even... something softer.

Then it was gone.

"First look is out!" sigaw ng assistant sa comms.

Cue the music.

Low, rhythmic, sexy beats. The kind of sound na hindi mo lang naririnig—nararamdaman mo sa dibdib mo.

Then the first model walked.

Silk and structured denim — a contradiction, like me.

Then came corseted pieces with asymmetrical cuts, softened by translucent panels and hints of lace. Military-inspired lines on a blush tulle dress. Deconstructed jackets with hidden embroidery. A mesh body suit with woven pearl chains. And then—my favorite:

A black coat, oversized, masculine—until it opened to reveal a sheer silver dress underneath.

Vulnerable. Provocative. Loud in its softness.

I watched them all walk, one by one. Each piece carrying a part of me.

The Cassie who used to scribble on napkins under the dinner table to escape family meetings.

The Cassie who hid fashion sketches behind her econ books.

The Cassie who was always told to “behave,” “blend,” “don’t attract too much attention.”

But tonight?

I wanted to be seen.

When the final model exited, the lights dimmed slightly.

Monique nudged me. “Go. This is your moment.”

I stepped forward.

The silence wasn’t awkward.

It was electric.

I cleared my throat and lifted my chin.

“This collection,” I said, voice steady, “is called Rebellion.”

A single beat.

Then—

Applause.

Not the polite kind. Not the forced kind.

This was warm. Loud. Genuine. Echoing through the marble and chandeliers.

Even Monique, who rarely gets impressed, was clapping with her whole chest, eyes suspiciously shiny.

But it was him I looked for.

Xan.

Still leaning against the pillar.

Still unreadable.

He didn’t clap.

He didn’t smile.

But then, slowly, he gave me a single nod.

A slow, deep nod — deliberate.

Measured.

As if to say:

“I see you now.”

And for the first time since I arrived at this mansion—since I stepped into this world na hindi akin—I didn’t care about bloodlines, or closed doors, or how guarded Xan Madrigal’s world was.

Because tonight?

Right here?

This was mine.

I owned this room.

I owned that applause.

And I owned that moment of silence when he looked at me like I was no longer the girl who snuck into his office…

…but the woman who could walk into fire and set it on her own terms.

I didn’t need permission.

I didn’t need saving.

I just needed this:

To be seen.

And somehow… I was.

Late that night, tahimik na ang buong mansion.

Monique had already gone to bed, drunk on praise and champagne. The staff left trays of dessert and bottles of wine on the terrace. And me?

I was barefoot, holding a glass of red, nakatingala sa langit.

The stars above the Madrigal estate felt so… untouched. Too beautiful for someone like me, who lived under spotlights and filters and expectations.

“You should wear your hair like that more often.”

Napalingon ako.

Nakatayo si Xan, dalang sariling wine glass, sleeves rolled, two buttons undone. Walang warning. Walang tunog. He just appeared — like he always does — silently pulling the gravity of the room with him.

I laughed softly. “Like what?”

“All messy and real,” he said, stepping closer. “Like you didn’t try.”

“Well, I didn’t,” I said, taking a sip. “Too tired to fake anything tonight.”

He looked at me, eyes unreadable.

“Don’t,” I said, sensing it. “Don’t psycho analyze me again.”

“I’m not,” he replied. “I’m appreciating you.”

That silenced me.

We stood there in comfortable quiet, the kind you only get when words aren't enough to hold the weight in the air.

“Sobrang tahimik dito,” bulong ko, staring at the stars.

“You hate it?”

“No,” I whispered. “I think... I need it.”

Xan turned to face me fully, placing his glass down on the ledge. His eyes didn’t leave mine.

“I saw your designs tonight,” he said. “You weren’t showing off.”

I blinked. “No?”

“You were telling a story.”

A pause.

He stepped closer.

“You were saying, ‘this is who I am, even if you never wanted to hear it.’”

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he said it.

“I did want to hear it, Cassie,” he murmured.

Our bodies were inches apart. The silence got heavier.

Stars above us.

Wine forgotten.

The world is slowing down.

And then—

He reached up.

Brushed a strand of hair from my cheek.

His fingers lingered just a second too long.

“Xan…”

He leaned in.

Not rushed.

Not dominant.

But like someone finally letting go of control.

And when his lips brushed mine—

soft, questioning, warm—

I knew this wasn’t just another kiss.

This was a choice.

And when I kissed him back?

It stopped being soft.

His lips brushed mine like a whisper.

Gentle. Controlled. Deliberate.

Parang tanong.

Parang sinasabi niya:

“Sigurado ka ba?”

And I answered him the only way I knew how—

By kissing him back.

My fingers clenched around the stem of my wine glass before I gave up and let it go—narinig ko pa ang mahinang clink habang tumama ito sa table.

His hand cupped my cheek.

Warm. Firm.

And just like that… the kiss changed.

From soft to hungry.

From slow to aching.

From maybe to mine.

He stepped closer, pressing me gently against the stone railing, and my hands found his chest—solid, warm, real.

The kind of chest you’d lean into when the whole world’s falling apart.

He kissed me like he was trying to memorize my mouth. Like he’d waited too long and didn’t know when he'd get to touch me again.

His tongue slid past my lips—confident, claiming—and I moaned softly against him, fingers curling into his shirt.

God, this man kissed like sin wrapped in silk.

I should’ve pulled away.

I didn’t.

I didn’t want to.

Because in that moment, nothing else existed. Not the mansion. Not the rules. Not the damn secrets he kept hidden behind that locked office door.

Just us.

Breath to breath.

Lips to lips.

Fire to fire.

He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against mine, both of us breathing hard.

His voice was rough, low, uneven—

“You make it very hard to stay away from you.”

“Then don’t,” I whispered, not even thinking.

He chuckled—dark and full of warning—but he didn’t move away.

And neither did I.

His gaze dropped to my lips.

Tila bang bawat segundo na lumilipas ay isa nang kasalanan, pero pareho kaming walang ginagawa para pigilan ito.

His fingers brushed against my jaw, barely there, then slid down the side of my neck like he was memorizing me—delicate, reverent, restrained.

“Cassie…” his voice cracked with restraint, “if I stay here any longer, I won’t be able to stop myself.”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Because the truth was—I didn’t want him to stop.

He leaned in again, lips ghosting mine. One more breath and we’d be back in that kiss. That kiss that felt like gravity collapsing in on itself.

But instead of closing the distance, he backed away with a groan. One hand dragged down his face, the other clenched into a fist like he was anchoring himself to reality.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath.

I stood frozen, heart thundering, blood roaring in my ears.

His hand reached for mine—firm, steady—and without another word, gently, inakay niya ako papasok ng mansion.

Hindi kami nag-usap habang tumatawid sa hallway. Tahimik lang. Ang mga yapak namin maririnig mo sa polished marble floors, ang hangin mabigat sa tensyon, sa init, sa lahat ng hindi pa nasasabi.

Pagdating sa tapat ng pinto ko, tumigil siya.

Tumingin sa akin.

Walang ngiti. Wala ring laro sa mata niya.

Just heat.

Hunger.

And something else.

Control.

Dahan-dahan niyang binuksan ang pinto, hawak pa rin ang kamay ko, like he was holding back the storm he didn’t want to unleash.

Pinapasok niya ako sa loob ng kwarto. Still no words.

Tumigil siya sa threshold.

I turned to face him, barely breathing.

But he didn’t follow me inside.

Instead, nanatili siya sa pintuan.

He raised one hand—at inayos ang nahulog kong strand ng buhok sa gilid ng pisngi ko.

His touch was soft. Lingering. But final.

Then his voice dropped—low, raspy, and full of dangerous tenderness:

“Pumasok ka na, Cassie. Bago pa tayo mapunta sa lugar na hindi na natin mababalikan.”

My breath caught.

He meant it.

Not as a tease. Not as a warning.

But as a man holding the line for the both of us.

Kahit na parehong-pareho kaming gustong lampasan ‘yon.

I nodded, voice caught in my throat.

And with that…

He closed the door slowly, quietly—like he was sealing away something sacred.

Then I heard the soft click of the lock.

Leaving me standing in the middle of my room, still trembling, still tasting him on my lips.

My fingers touched my mouth.

Still warm.

Still tingling.

I stood there for what felt like forever—heart pounding, legs weak, lungs barely catching up.

Because that wasn’t just a kiss.

It was a line drawn.

A fuse lit.

And it was only a matter of time… before one of us exploded.

I couldn’t sleep.

Lying in that giant, soft, suffocating bed, all I could think about was… him.

His lips.

His breath.

The way his hands didn’t just touch me—they memorized me.

God, what did I just do?

Binalikan ko ‘yung moment sa terrace over and over.

The kiss.

The look in his eyes.

The way my body didn’t hesitate… but my heart?

Terrified.

I rolled to my side and pulled the blanket over my head like it could shut out the feeling.

But the problem wasn’t the kiss.

It was everything that came with it.

I kissed Xan Madrigal.

The man who’s too guarded to smile.

Too powerful to be trusted.

Too mysterious to be safe.

And yet…

I felt safe with him.

More than safe—seen.

And now?

I didn’t know what that made me.

Weak?

Naïve?

Or just honest for the first time in a long time?

Knock-knock.

I bolted upright, startled.

“Cassie?” Trixie’s sleepy voice from behind the door. “May natirang truffle cake sa fridge. If you’re having a breakdown, we can cry and eat together.”

I let out a breathy laugh. “I’m good,” I called back, half-lying.

She paused.

“Is this a he kissed me and I liked it kind of good or he kissed me and now I’m emotionally ruined kind of good?”

I didn’t answer.

Because… both.