From Secrecy to Serenity | M-PREG

Chapter 1

"MA, stop setting me up with women," he said, his voice filled with irritation.

She never stops meddling in my love life. So what if I don't want to be in a relationship? I've said it repeatedly, but here we are again.

I don't even want to get married. Yet, she continues to disrupt my single life. How many arranged marriages have my parents canceled already? They've set me up with countless women just to settle me down.

Even my sibling has joined the conspiracy.

"I just want you to have a family. You're my middle child, yet you are not in a relationship, plus, you're the only one without a family," his mother said, her voice full of sadness and concern as she sat in front of him.

I busied myself with the papers I was reading, ignoring my mother's wishes.

"I will arrange a marriage again. This will be the last time, Hezron Ybrahim Devios Sedaria," his mother said, emphasizing his full name. "You will like this woman, my son. You won't say no to her gorgeous face and sexy body."

I rubbed my face in frustration.

"Whether you like it or not, I want you to get married," his mother insisted before leaving his office.

Damn.

I leaned back in my swivel chair and closed my eyes tightly.

I don't want to! Of all the women they've shown me, none caught my interest. They only received nods from me. But on the day of the date or actual meeting, I wouldn't show up. If I did, I would just get annoyed with my parents' choice.

None of them meet my standards!

They're all too sassy. I don't like their thin eyebrows. If that's what my children will inherit, no thanks! Because as a Sedaria, I don't care.

If they aren't shy, they're overly confident. If they're not sassy, they're angelic. Too soft, too hard—it's never right.

No way!

Hmph! Damn. Back to work.

"Brother!"

I turned to where the voice came from. It was my little brother, Crieg.

"Too bad, I finished it all," he said, looking sadly at the food he brought. "Do you want some?"

I shook my head. "Keep it for yourself, you look pitiful."

I massaged my forehead with my fingers to ease my stress.

Mom left me alone, but now there's a kid eating in front of me. And he eats noisily!

These f*cking sounds! I hate it!

I threw a pen in his direction, and it hit his head.

"Ouch! Brother!" my annoying brother complained.

I want to bury him.

"You're married and you still eat like a pig!" I yelled at him, shooting him a sharp look.

Maswerte siya na kapatid ko siya; kung hindi, hinila ko na siya palabas ng mga bodyguard.

"Oww... I'm sorry," he said, wincing. "It's just really tasty."

I returned my gaze to my laptop and busied myself.

"Be home at 10 p.m. today, Brother."

I looked up. "Is there an event today?"

"Oh, I'll tell Dad," he said with a mischievous smile, approaching me. He stood in front of the table and placed both hands on it. "It's his early 65th birthday celebration, Brother. Did you forget?" he said, raising an eyebrow at me. "That's what happens when you only focus on the company, Kuya. You should be preparing for your inheritance now."

I gave him a stern look and nodded, then returned my attention to my laptop.

"They will announce your engagement party too," he added, making me look at him again.

I rolled my eyes and focused back on my laptop until he left my office.

"Damn, Ybrahim," Michael cursed.

I arched my brow at him and gulped the alcohol in my throat. "What?" he asked. "I'm enjoying drinking here,"

"You've been drinking nonstopped," Michael said. "You should go home. You are the star of your Dad's party. Your name would be trending in the internet, like blast again."

"I'm not in the mood, Michael. I'm here to enjoy the night, " He said, and drink the bottle full of alcohol.

"Okay, suit yourself," Michael said, and gave me another bottle of alcohol.

An aroma of citrus and woody scents filled my nose as a stranger approached me from behind. I took a swig of the alcohol in the bottle, gulping it down as I was mesmerized by the handsomeness of the man.

I think I'm a little bit tipsy. I've had too much to drink.

He leaned in closer, his voice smooth and inviting, "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room. You look like someone who enjoys a good mystery."

Hezron turned slowly, a playful smile curling on her lips. "Well, you've certainly piqued my interest. What's the mystery you have in mind?"

The handsome man eyes sparkled with mischief as he replied, his voice low and intimate, "How about we start with why someone as captivating as you is here alone?" His lips curved into a smug grin, as if he already knew the answer and was simply enjoying the game.

Hezron met his gaze, a competitive glint in his eyes. "Maybe I was just waiting for someone bold enough to join me," he replied smoothly, leaning in just a bit closer. "Think you can keep up?"

The handsome man smiles widened, his confidence unwavering. "Oh, I don’t just keep up," he said, his voice dripping with smugness. "I set the pace."

The challenge in his tone hit his squarely, igniting a spark of determination. This was going to be an interesting night.

His eyes narrowed slightly, the thrill of the challenge clear on his face. "We'll see about that," he said with a confident smirk. "Just don't get left behind."

"Michael, another drink." I picked my phone at my pocket, it keeps vibrating.

A message from my brother and mom. There are some missed calls too. s**t.

"It's your 39th order, man." He gave the bottle of alcohol to me.

I shrugged and drank it all.

They leaned in closer, eyes sparkling with mischief and a hint of challenge.

I motioned for Michael to take some hard liquor.

Hezren poured two glasses of the finest whiskey, a smirk playing on his lips. "Let's see if you can handle this," he taunted, pushing one glass towards a confident man.

The handsome man raised an eyebrow, a confident smirk mirroring Hezren's. "Please, I could handle this in my sleep," he shot back, lifting the glass with a flourish.

Their conversation turned into a rapid-fire exchange of wits and jabs, each trying to one-up the other with clever insults and sharp comebacks.

"You talk a big game," Hezren quipped, taking a sip of his drink. "But can you back it up?"

The man chuckled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I don't just back it up," he retorted. "I make it look easy."

The trash talk escalated as they downed their drinks, the alcohol fueling their competitive spirit and quick wit.

Hezren leaned back in his chair, a smug grin on his face. "Is that the best you've got?" he taunted, challenging the man to keep pace.

The man leaned forward, a glint of determination in his eyes. "You haven't seen anything yet," he countered, pouring another round with a flourish.

It was a battle of words as much as it was a battle of drinks, each refusing to back down and eager to prove their superiority in both wit and alcohol tolerance.

I can't lose to this man. So, competitive. I likes to be buried him in the ground.

The intensity of the evening was palpable, the alcohol only heightening the tension between Hezron and the handsome stranger. The room seemed to fade into the background as their competitive spirits clashed.

"Alright, let's raise the stakes," the man said, his voice low and daring. "If I win, I'll f**k you senseless. No holds barred." The stranger's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned back, a confident grin spreading across his face.

Hezron, feeling a surge of bravado and driven by a mix of ego and curiosity, leaned in closer. "And if I win," he countered smoothly, "you'll be the one left breathless under me, begging for more."

Hezron finds himself smirking, he won't lose in this man. If it's first time doing it with the man, he wouldn't be accepted that he will be the bottom. I find him interesting, his smugness in his face never leaves, that makes him eager to have a chance to bottom him.

Their gazes are locked, the challenge now is more than just a test of alcohol tolerance but a battle of wills and desires. Hezron felt a thrilling course through him; this was uncharted territory, and he was eager to see where it led.

Michael, sensing the escalating tension, silently placed another bottle of whiskey on the table.

Hezron grabbed it, pouring two generous glasses. "Let's see if you can handle this," he taunted, pushing a glass toward the stranger.

The stranger accepted the glass with a smirk, lifting it in a mock toast. "To the victor," he said, his voice dripping with confidence.

They downed their drinks in unison, the burn of the alcohol doing little to dampen their competitive spirits. The rapid-fire exchange of wits and jabs continued, each determined to outdo the other.

Hezron felt the alcohol buzz heightening his senses and his boldness. "You ready to lose?" he quipped, taking another sip. "Maybe, you will back up if I enter my thing to you?"

The stranger chuckled, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Oh, I don't just back up, Hun," he retorted. "I make it look easy. You're the one I will be wrecked,"

Hezron chuckled.

The trash talk escalated as they continued to down their drinks, the alcohol fueling their competitive banter.

The more they talked, the more he is eager to erase his furious. It might be okay to enjoy sometimes.

Hezron leaned back in his chair, a smug grin on his face. "Is that the best you've got?" he taunted, challenging the stranger to keep pace.

The stranger leaned forward, a glint of determination in his eyes. "You haven't seen anything yet," he countered, pouring another round with a flourish.

Their battle of words and drinks raged on, each refusing to back down. Hezron's heart pounded with the thrill of the challenge, his competitive nature driving him to push harder.

"Let's make this interesting," Hezron said, his voice filled with a blend of confidence and daring. "Loser submits completely. No exceptions."

The stranger's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Deal," he replied, his voice low and mischievous. "But don't think for a second that I'll be the one submitting."

They clinked their glasses, sealing the deal, and downed another round. The room around them seemed to disappear as they focused solely on each other, the stakes higher than ever.

As the night wore on and the drinks kept flowing, Hezron felt a growing connection to the stranger, a mixture of competitiveness and undeniable attraction. He knew that no matter who won, the outcome would be unforgettable.

Finally, after what felt like hours of intense competition, Hezron felt himself reaching his limit. But his pride wouldn't let him back down. He poured another glass, his hands steady despite the alcohol coursing through his veins.

The stranger mirrored his movements, his eyes never leaving Hezron's. "Ready to give in yet?" he teased, his voice a seductive purr.

Hezron smirked, refusing to show any sign of weakness. "Not a chance," he replied, lifting his glass. "Here's to the best man winning."

They downed their final drinks, the alcohol hitting them hard. Hezron's vision blurred slightly, but he refused to let it deter him. He stood up, his movements surprisingly steady, and leaned across the table.

"Looks like it's time to settle this," he said, his voice a husky whisper. "I'm too bored now, let's just see who will end up in the bottom,"

The stranger stood as well, matching Hezron's intensity. "Lead the way," he said, his tone dripping with anticipation.

(⁠☞⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠ ⁠☞