My (Not So) Dangerous Wife

KABANATA 6

Blade Ford

“I’m Queen Denise Morgan.”

Diretso siyang nakatingin sa mga mata ko—cold, steady, parang kaya niyang basahin ‘yong buong pagkatao ko in one glance. Hindi ko alam ang gagawin ko. Para akong nabulunan, parang may biglang bumara sa lalamunan ko at ayaw akong pakawalan.

Siguradong wala na akong takas dito. Malamang… kakainin na ako nito. Or worse—ipapadisappear ako, tapos magiging urban legend na lang ako sa Twin Building.

“Tulad ng sinabi ko kanina,” sabi niya, voice like polished steel, “handa akong tulungan ka—sa isang kondisyon.”

Nanginig balahibo ko sa lamig ng boses niya. Napakurap-kurap ako nang makita ko, panandalian, pamumula ng mga mata niya.

Parang namalikmata lang ata ako, sabi ko sa sarili ko. Kasi… paano mangyayari ‘yon? Baka reflection lang ng maroon niyang outfit? Baka ‘yong lighting sa office niya? Baka epekto ng stress? (O baka… bampira talaga siya. Lord, help.)

“Talaga?” mahinang tanong ko, halos pabulong, then inilibot ko ang tingin ko sa paligid ng opisina.

Baka prank lang ‘to. Baka may hidden camera. Baka biglang may lalabas na tao at sasabihing, “It’s a prank!” Tapos tatawa sila, tapos ako iiyak.

Pero wala.

Pure silence. Pure luxury.

The office itself looked like a private empire—floor-to-ceiling glass, sleek dark wood, minimalist decor, and a scent in the air that screamed expensive perfume and power. Lahat subtle, pero lahat deliberate. Even the silence felt curated.

Hindi pa rin ako makapaniwala.

Lumapit ako kay Queen Denise, then hinawakan ko siya sa magkabilang braso. Not rough—more like… checking if she’s real. Kasi baka imagination ko lang ‘to brought by desperation.

“S-seryoso ka?” tanong ko ulit.

Tumango lang siya. No smile. No warmth. Just certainty.

Then she tilted her chin slightly, as if she was inspecting me the way people inspect a purchase they’re not sure about.

“Ts.” She clicked her tongue softly, then leaned back on her chair like she owned the air. “So what do you want from me?”

Parang biglang bumalik ang kaluluwa ko sa katawan ko. Mabilis ko siyang binitawan—hala, sorry po Queen, hindi po ako bastos, desperate lang—then yumuko ako at kinuha ang mga papeles na nahulog kanina.

Nanginginig pa kamay ko. Hindi ko alam kung sa kaba, sa lamig, o sa fact na I’m standing in front of the woman who can either save our company or bury our surname.

I raised the documents, both hands, parang offering sa altar.

“P-pirmahan mo lang ‘to,” sabi ko, stuttering like my brain was buffering. “K-kahit ang kapalit ay ang… p-pag s-sipsip ng dugo ko, okay lang.”

Nakayuko pa rin ako, offering the papers like I was offering my life.

Queen Denise Morgan

Kinuha ko ang documents na iniaabot niya—steady hands, zero hesitation.

Tama nga ang hinala ko.

Ford’s proposal.

I skimmed through it quickly. I didn’t need long. I already knew what it contained. I already knew why they were desperate. I already knew why he was standing here looking like a panicked golden retriever in formal wear.

“Fine,” sabi ko, voice cold and clean. “I’ll invest.”

Tumitig siya sa’kin, eyes wide, then biglang lumapad ang ngiti niya na parang nanalo sa raffle.

“Talaga? Yes! Wala na bawian ‘yan ha? Yehey—”

I cut him off with a single glance.

“In one condition.”

Biglang nawala ang ngiti niya. Parang binuhusan siya ng yelo. Napalitan ng nerbyos ang buong aura niya—kung kanina excited, ngayon parang ready na siyang ma-evict sa mundo.

“What condition?” tanong niya, then biglang naglakas-loob. “Ang sipsipin ba ang dugo ko? It’s fine as long as you’ll sign that paper.”

At inilahad pa niya ang leeg niya—parang handang magpakagat anumang oras.

I stared at him for two seconds. Then slowly, I exhaled.

No.

“No,” sabi ko. Calm. Final.

Then I leaned forward slightly, voice still smooth, still lethal.

“Let’s just say… I’ll invest.” I paused, letting the words hang like a guillotine. “And you— you will marry me.”

Diretso. Walang paligoy-ligoy. Walang romance. Just a statement.

Hinintay ko ang reaction niya.

Wala.

Natigilan siya. Parang nag-freeze ang buong system niya. Parang nag-blue screen ang utak niya.

“Kung aya—” aayusin ko na sana ang next words, but he exploded.

“A-ayaw ko!” biglang sigaw niya, stepping back like I offered him death. “Wala akong trabaho! Marami pa akong pangarap sa buhay! Paano na lang ang magiging anak natin kung wala akong ipapakain? AYAW KO!”

Nag-cross arms pa siya, acting like a child refusing vegetables.

I didn’t even flinch.

I just rolled my eyes, slow and bored, like his drama was a fly buzzing in my office.

Napaka-arte. Ang dami pang satsat.

I stared at him—colder.

Then, without any hesitation, I reached for the pistol attached to my thigh. Clean movement. Professional.

I pressed the muzzle to his temple.

His face went pale in an instant. The kind of pale that says, “Ah, this is not a joke.”

“You will marry me,” sabi ko, voice ice, “or you will marry me.” I tilted my head slightly. “Choose.”

Kita ko ang paglikot ng mga mata niya. Halatang kinakabahan. Halatang nagra-rationalize siya in real time.

Then, in one breath, he surrendered.

“Yes! Yes, I will marry you!” sigaw niya, almost crying. “Kahit wala akong trabaho, marami pang pangarap sa buhay, at walang ipapakain sa magiging anak natin— I will marry you! Basta pirmahan mo ‘yan ha!”

Umatras ako ng kaunti. Mas’yadong malakas ang boses niya—nakakairita. I lowered the pistol and returned it to its place like nothing happened.

Sobrang advance ng utak ng nerd na ‘to. Anak? Pinapakain? Future plans? We’re not even legally engaged yet.

“Good choice,” sabi ko, and for the first time—my lips curved into a faint, satisfied smile.

He pouted, turned away, and muttered under his breath.

“Good choice daw… iisa naman pagpipilian. pout”

“May sinasabi ka?” tanong ko, pretending I didn’t hear.

“Wala!” he blurted. Then, in the same childish volume: “Tara na, magpapatahi pa ako ng amerikana!”

I frowned. Amerikana? Why?

Hindi ko na siya pinatulan.

I called Attorney Gutierrez.

“Prepare all the papers for marriage,” sabi ko, then I ended the call immediately.

I stood.

“Come on,” sabi ko. “We need to go.”

Nauna na akong maglakad. Ramdam ko naman na sunod lang siya, parang tuta na napilitan.

Sa loob ng elevator, napatingin ako sa orasan. Lunch na pala. I didn’t notice.

Then—

“Kruu kruuu…”

Agad kong napatingin sa kanya.

Nakahawak siya sa tiyan niya. Namumula ang mukha, embarrassed, avoiding my eyes.

Gutom.

We stepped out of the building, got into my car. Tahimik lang siya, nakatitig sa bintana, like he was contemplating his new life choices.

“Kruu kruuu…”

He held his stomach again. This time, even I was irritated by the sound—because it was loud.

So I did a quick U-turn and headed to the nearest drive-thru. Lucky him—may nadaanan kami.

I handed him food without looking at him too long.

“Kainin mo,” sabi ko. “Mukhang gutom na gutom ka na.”

Tahimik niyang kinuha. Then he started eating like someone who survived war.

And for a moment, the car was filled with only two sounds:

His chewing.

And the city outside pretending this wasn’t insane.

Blade Ford

Hanggang ngayon, iniisip ko pa rin kung anong ipapakain ko sa magiging anak namin.

Like—hello? She just said we’ll marry. She has a pistol. She has money. She has power. But my brain? My brain went straight to: children and groceries.

Tumingin ako kay Queen Denise nang mapansin kong pamilyar na ang lugar na tinatahak namin.

‘Di ako nagkamali.

This route…

This turn…

This street…

I looked at her. She looked back at me—like she already read my thoughts even before I formed them.

“Kailangan malaman ng mommy mo,” sabi niya, calm as if she was just saying, “You need to breathe.”

“H-huwag!” naiiyak kong sabi. “Hindi puwedeng malaman ni Mommy! Magagalit ‘yon! Huhuhu!”

Pero huli na.

Nasa tapat na kami ng gate ng bahay namin.

Ang bilis talaga niyang magmaneho—parang wala siyang concept ng speed limit. Para siyang nagda-drive like the law is optional.

Wala na akong nagawa kundi bumaba—labag sa loob—habang kinakain ko ang fries na hawak ko. Emotional support fries.

Sakto naman, paglabas ni Queen Denise sa sasakyan, lumabas din si Mommy mula sa bahay.

Napatingin agad si Mommy sa sasakyan. Malamang—dahil ang sasakyan na ‘to ay produkto rin ng company namin. At alam niya: tanging mayayaman lang ang nakaka-afford nito.

“Good day, Mrs…?” pormal na bati ni Queen Denise.

Tumingin si Mommy, confused. Then she straightened her shoulders—automatic business mode.

“Ford. Good day too,” sabi ni Mommy, firm. “What brought you here, Miss? May nagawa ba sa’yo ‘tong anak ko?”

Aangal na sana ako—“Mom! Hindi ako may gawa!”—pero bigla akong siniko ni Mommy.

Aray. Grabe siya.

“Nothing, Mrs. Ford,” sagot ni Queen Denise, emotionless. “I’m here to talk about your company proposal.”

Kumunot ang noo ni Mommy.

“Proposal?” tanong niya. “What proposal?”

“Mom—” magsasalita na sana ako, pero siniko na naman ako ni Mommy.

Grabe. Abuse na ‘to ah.

“So rude of me not to introduce myself,” sabi ni Queen Denise, voice calm but heavy. “By the way… I’m Morgan.”

Natigilan si Mommy.

Parang biglang bumagal ang hangin. Parang biglang lumalim ang atmosphere. Parang may invisible throne biglang lumitaw sa harap namin.

Slowly, slowly, lumingon si Mommy sa’kin.

“Bakit hindi mo agad sinabi sa’kin kanina?” bulong niya, voice sharp. “Nakakahiya, anak.”

“Sasabihin ko na sana, kaso lagi mo ‘kong sinisiko,” bulong ko pabalik, pouty.

Nangigigil si Mommy, ready na sana akong batukan, pero nauna magsalita si Queen Denise.

“Mrs. Ford,” sabi niya, “I’m here to talk about the condition. So I can sign the contract.”

Tumindig si Mommy nang diretso. Biglang naging formal, biglang naging careful.

“I’m sorry for being rude, Queen Denise Morgan,” sabi ni Mommy, voice respectful now. “Come in. Have a seat.”

Pinapasok niya si Queen Denise sa loob. Sumunod ako, kamot-ulo, carrying my panic like a designer bag.

“Prepare juice for us,” utos ni Mommy sa katulong bago umupo sa sofa—katapat kung saan umupo si Queen Denise.

“It’s nice to see you, Queen Denise Morgan,” sabi ni Mommy, smiling in a business way. “So you’ll invest in my company. May I know your condition? It’s very unusual to meet the youngest successful businesswoman here. I assume your condition is serious.”

Kita ko kung paano ngumisi si Queen Denise—small, controlled, dangerous.

“Well…” pabitin niyang sabi, then tumikhim.

Then, with the same calm voice she used to threaten my life—

“I want your son.”

And in that exact moment, I realized:

I’m not doomed.

I’m dead.