Rule One: Don't Fall

Chapter 5

“UH… H-HAVE you ordered yet?” I asked, laughing nervously as I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. I tried not to look directly at him, but the moment he glanced up, I felt my stomach twist.

“Nope,” he replied shortly, voice cold—sharp enough to cut glass.

Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around myself. It felt like a chill just passed through me—not from the air conditioning, though that was already cold enough to make my skin prickle. His tone had this frosty, detached quality to it—he sounded mechanical. Almost… robotic.

I glanced down at his legs as he crossed them with that slow, deliberate elegance that screamed control. His arms followed—folded across his chest, head tilting ever so slightly to the side as if he were observing me under a microscope. When I looked back up, his expression was unreadable. No smile, no flicker of interest. Nothing. Just blank.

What the hell… this was so awkward.

I couldn’t tell if he was glad to be here.

“I see,” I said quietly, setting my bag down gently on the table beside us.

I took a slow, controlled breath and crossed my legs, trying to mirror his composure. Maybe if I looked calm, I’d feel calm. But inside? I was screaming.

“So… you're Evander?” I asked, hoping to break the ice. The awkwardness was already choking me, and we’d barely started.

“And you’re?” he replied flatly. Still cold. Still distant. Not even a flicker of effort to make this less painful.

“Leiria Cortes,” I said, offering my hand with what I hoped was a warm smile. “Nice to meet you.”

He stared at my hand for a brief moment before finally taking it in his. “Nice meeting you too,” he said with the same monotone voice, as if he were shaking hands with a business associate and not someone he was about to share dinner with.

I pulled my hand back and nodded, trying not to let the tension show on my face. “Uh… shall we order?” I kept the smile going, even if my cheeks were starting to ache from forcing it.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he just raised his hand and gestured to a nearby waiter. No words. Just a simple, silent command like he was used to being obeyed.

I grabbed my water glass and took a long sip, partly to calm my nerves… partly just to give my hands something to do. I mean, I technically knew what to do in situations like this—I’ve handled worse in business meetings. But the way he kept glancing at me every time I moved? Like he was assessing my every breath?

Add that to his whole "Wednesday Addams but male, adult, and probably richer than God" vibe?

Yeah. I was quietly losing it.

“So—so it’s just Evander?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes.” Another short reply.

I blinked. And then—“HaHaHaHa,” I laughed. It came out so forced I wanted to slap myself with the breadstick.

“Why? Do we need complete names?” he asked. His tone didn’t change—it was still cold, still distant. I couldn’t tell if he was being rude or if he just really didn’t get why I asked. His face definitely looked rude. But his voice? It had this odd curiosity hidden beneath the ice.

I shook my head quickly. “No, no. I was just thinking… since I gave you my full name, maybe you’d do the same,” I said, my smile stretched too tight, too polite.

“Here’s your order, ma’am, sir.” A waiter arrived, pushing a trolley carefully toward our table.

“Oh, thank you,” I said, instantly relieved by the interruption.

He laid out the dishes one by one—everything plated beautifully, like little works of art. The kind of food that made you scared to eat it because it looked too perfect. Then came two glasses, followed by a bottle of white wine. He poured carefully, the liquid swirling like silk into the crystal.

“Thank you again,” I said, flashing the waiter another smile as he gave a slight bow and left.

We’d only ordered a few things. Most of the mains were served family-style, and being a French restaurant, I expected small portions and fancy names I could barely pronounce.

Then silence. We started eating. Still no small talk. No eye contact. Not anything. Just the soft clink of cutlery and the occasional sip of wine. And then—

“My name’s Evander Monville—”

I choked on the wine I had just taken a sip of.

What the hell?!

My eyes widened in shock, one brow shooting up in disbelief—not just because of what he said… but because I accidentally spat wine on him. Yes. On him.

Holy. s**t.

“Oh my gosh! I—I’m—I’m so sorry. I'm so, so sorry!”

I could feel people around us starting to look. I didn’t even have the courage to check—but the shame creeping up my neck was enough proof.NThis is humiliating.

I froze for a second, completely stunned and panicked. I mean—who wouldn't be surprised?! Of all people in the world… this is who Jesh set me up with?! What the hell was going through that girl’s head?!

Luckily, I managed to grab the handkerchief from my bag without dropping anything, and I immediately stood up to walk over to him. I leaned forward, ready to wipe the wine off his face—only for him to raise a hand to stop me.

I froze mid-step.

God, could this get any more embarrassing?

I bit my lower lip and slowly returned to my seat, brows furrowed in panic and shame. He wasn’t looking at me—just staring blankly into space, hand still slightly raised.

Which only made me feel worse.

“I really am sorry. I promise—I didn’t mean to.”

My voice came out softer than usual as I fidgeted with the edge of my handkerchief. I was even willing to lend it to him, even though this particular one was sentimental. It had my initials. Mama gave it to me.

He sighed—soft, almost tired—and reached into the inside pocket of his coat. He took out his own handkerchief and dabbed his face gently. The way he did it—calm, precise, and quiet—you could just tell he was raised in wealth.

“N-Not to defend myself or anything, but… I was just surprised, that’s all. You—you kind of dropped a bomb,” I said with an awkward laugh, still biting my lip out of nerves.

He finally looked at me—his lips slightly parted, but his expression was unreadable. That cold stare? Unshaken.

I quickly looked away, too embarrassed to hold eye contact. “S-Sorry again,” I mumbled.

“So it’s my fault?” he asked, his brow slightly furrowing.

I immediately shook my head. “N-No! Not at all! I just—I mean… you surprised me, that’s all. I didn’t expect that.”

“How? That I’m a Monville?” His tone was still icy—calm, but sharp. He knows, of course, he knows how popular their last name is.

“N-Not exactly. It’s more than that… Jesh—your cousin—she never mentioned that the guy I was meeting tonight was you. Or that you were even related,” I explained quickly, my hands gripping my handkerchief tightly. “I didn’t even know she had a cousin named Evander.”

“She’s your friend?”

I nodded. “Yes. One of my closest.”

“Is it… shocking that she’s my cousin?”

I shook my head again. “N-Not in a bad way. It’s just…” I paused, struggling to find the right words as his gaze stayed locked on me. “It’s just surprising, I guess. Because you don’t exactly give off the same… vibe.”

He didn’t respond.

Just kept staring.

And with that face? That sharp jaw? Those serious eyes? It felt like he didn’t need to say anything. His silence said it all. No need to lie—his whole aura screamed Monville. That attitude? That cold demeanour? That air of mystery? He was exactly like Ma’am Victoria. And all the other Monville cousins I’d encountered—they were the same. Reserved. Composed. A bit distant.

Jesh really is the odd one out. And honestly, thank God for her spice, or they’d all be statues.

Poor girl. Didn’t inherit the cold gene. Or maybe she just glitched out of it.

What surprised me even more was the fact that I’d never seen this man before. And I’ve met the Monvilles. Jesh had brought us to their family hacienda in Laguna once—for the Chairman’s birthday. I thought I’d seen all her cousins then. Even the first-in-line heiress showed up.

But now?

Now I’m sitting across from the missing piece. The one I never knew existed. Right here. In front of me.

A brief silence settled between us again. He was just quietly eating, while I, on the other hand, found myself stealing glances at the way he handled his utensils. Every movement of his hand was deliberate. Polished. Controlled without looking stiff. It was like watching a scene from an old movie or one of those elegant, high-society dinners. Then he brought a bite to his mouth in one smooth, effortless motion—no mess, no clinks, no awkward angles.

I froze for a second, my fork hovering in mid-air.

Okay, wow. That was… refined.

Every little gesture—the way he dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin, the way he took small, calculated bites—was almost theatrical in its elegance. Like he’d been trained to dine this way his entire life. It was all so demure… so mindful. I couldn’t help but feel a sudden pang of insecurity. The contrast between us? Stark. And low-key humiliating.

I was caught in a loop—looking at my food, then back at him.

I don't wanna eat anymore! Ugh!

Why the hell did he have to eat like a walking etiquette manual? And on top of that—he was handsome. Seriously handsome. It was almost rude at this point. Damn Monville genes.

I’m kidding—well, sort of. I wouldn’t let good food go to waste just because I was having a moment. This was Italian cuisine, okay? A rare treat! Once-a-year luxury. I wasn’t about to let my insecurities ruin it.

“I know I’m handsome,” he said out of nowhere, his voice calm and slightly amused, snapping me out of my thoughts. “But just a reminder—you won’t get full by staring at me.”

I blinked, caught completely off guard. Embarrassment instantly bloomed in my chest, but I masked it with a frown.

“Excuse me?” I said, trying to sound unimpressed.

“Yes? Are you leaving?” he replied coolly, raising his brows once with the kind of calm arrogance that made me want to throw my fork at him. My jaw dropped slightly in disbelief.

I shook my head. “No. I—I mean—” But before I could even finish my sentence, he cut me off.

“Okay,” he said simply, wiping his mouth again with a napkin. His every move was annoyingly graceful.

“Just so you know, I’m not here because I wanted to be,” he continued. “I’m only here because I lost a bet with Jesher.”

I blinked again. That caught me off guard. “O-Okay?” I replied, unsure what he wanted me to say. Was this supposed to impress me? Or warn me?

“And just to keep you informed,” he added nonchalantly, “you’re my one-hundredth date.”

I stared at him. Speechless for a second.

A hundredth date? He had to be joking. But then again… with how rich and good-looking he was, it was technically possible.

“So?” I said, unfazed, trying not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me surprised.

One of his brows twitched upward. Sheesh. Arrogant, much? He tilted his head slightly, then leaned back with his arms crossed—thighs too, as if to say he owned the whole table.

“You’re not going to say anything?” he asked. “No reaction? I just told you you’re my one-hundredth date.”

I stabbed another bite of pasta with my fork and casually took a mouthful before replying. “With the way you look, I’d expect you to be picky. So no, I’m not surprised. Even if I turned out to be your thousandth date, I wouldn’t be shocked,” I said coolly.

He stared at me, the slightest hint of confusion in his calm expression.

“You’re not even wondering if I’ll choose you?”

His tone was steady, but there was an edge of curiosity there. Like he was genuinely puzzled by how unaffected I seemed.

“You’re not bragging, are you?”

“What?” he asked, flatly.

I leaned forward slightly and gave him a pointed look. “Excuse me, but I didn’t come here to audition for your affection, sir.” I made sure to stress that last word with all the sarcasm I could muster.

I caught myself scoffing under my breath.

What does he think I came here for? To beg for a relationship? To compete for a title like future Mrs. Evander? Ugh. The audacity.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t even be here if your cousin hadn’t been so persistent,” I said, crossing my arms now. “And just so you know—you’re on my date list, too. You’re not the only one who’s dated people, okay? FYI. Count yourself lucky I had a crush on you at first sight. Otherwise? I might’ve ditched this dinner altogether. You should thank me. I’m being nice.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically. He frowned at my reaction.

“You’ve checked off every box in my standards list, and now you’re seriously asking me that question?”

I glared at him, genuinely a bit offended now. Because for a moment there, he made me feel like I had something to prove. And that? That didn’t sit well with me.

“Excuse me, I just need to go to the restroom,” I said, standing up. I nearly tripped over the leg of my chair on the way out.

I clutched my phone tightly as I made my way to the restroom. No one else was there when I arrived. Perfect. I immediately started fiddling with my phone, scrolling through contacts until I found Jesh’s number.

She better be ready for this.

“Yes, dear?” she answered, sweet as ever.

“Don’t ‘dear-dear’ me! Who exactly is this guy you set me up with?” I snapped, hand on my hip.

“Oh… so, how’s the date going?” she said in that annoying, teasing tone of hers.

I rolled my eyes.

I honestly don’t know why I keep trusting her with these setups. I already have major trust issues when it comes to that girl, but somehow, she still gets me to say yes. Maybe it’s because she’s been my best friend for, like, half my life.

“You sent me your cousin?!”

She just laughed. “He’s not my cousin anymore. He disowned me after I started managing his love life,” she said, totally casual.

“What?!” I stepped inside a cubicle just in case someone else walked in.

“Yup. So… how’s he doing? Has he told you you’re probably his hundredth date already?”

I rolled my eyes again. “Ugh! Yes! Your cousin is insane. Handsome, but way too direct.”

“Yeah, please excuse him. He inherited way too much of his sister's attitude.”

“Were you all conceived with ice or something?”

Except Jesh. She’s different. If anything, she was probably conceived with pure chaos. Just kidding. I’m so dead if Tita Malzy hears this. She actually likes me more than her own daughter—which is fair, considering my mom treats Jesh like her second child.

Being someone who’s already inside the Monville circle, I can honestly say their quiet and serious nature is just... built-in. Like a family of vampires—always calm, cold, and lowkey terrifying. You could practically feel the intimidation when you're near any of them.

“Alright, chill. I’m just gonna say goodbye to Suzy then head home—”

I froze inside the cubicle. That voice. Familiar. She was talking to someone, probably on the phone. Of course, there’s no way I could mistake it. That was Cary. I suddenly felt a spike of panic, a bit embarrassed. What if she saw me? I didn’t want her to know I was out on a date. It’s just… awkward.

“Hello? Are you still—” Jesh’s voice was still on the line, but I quickly ended the call.

“Mmm… yes, I understand, Dad. Don’t worry, Mommy and I will support you. Someday, she’ll soften her heart,” I heard her say over the sound of the faucet turning on.

A few seconds later, I heard her footsteps leaving. Once I was sure she was gone, I stepped out of the cubicle, still dazed. I shouldn’t be feeling this right now—this ache. But it was there. Along with the anger. And pain. I tried pushing it aside because this wasn’t the time, but my thoughts had a mind of their own.

There are just some days you can’t forget. No matter what anyone says, it stays. And even when it hurts, it becomes unforgettable.

Cary was the one who came in earlier, she's my stepsister. We share the same father. She has both a father and a mother. Me? I only have my mom. And yes, I won’t even deny it—I’ve felt jealous of her before. She had the perfect family. She had everything.

But after that day, I never wished for anyone else but Mama. I may have felt envy, but honestly? Mama has always been more than enough.

Even so, Cary never treated me like I didn’t belong. She treats me like a little sister. From the moment our dad introduced us, I felt at ease around her. I even regret how cold I was to her during those first few months. She’s one of the kindest, most genuine people I know—aside from Mama. And even if we rarely see each other, she never forgets the important dates in my life. Ever.

I bit my lower lip and shook my head, chasing away my thoughts. I took a deep breath and tucked a few stray strands of hair behind my ear.

Focus. I have a date waiting outside this restroom. Though, who knows? He might’ve walked out already—I’ve been gone a while.

I stepped out and walked back to our table. As I got closer, I noticed he was on the phone. He looked… annoyed? God, he even looks cute when he’s irritated. Ugh.

I was almost at our table when I spotted Cary again—this time, she was glancing in my direction! My body stiffened. I quickly ducked my head and let my hair fall over my face to cover it, walking briskly back to our table. The moment I reached it, I grabbed my bag.

I let out a fake laugh. “I—I’m sorry, but I have to leave now,” I said to the human ice cube across from me.

I didn’t wait for his response. I saw that Cary was still in the area, and from the way she was looking, I knew she was trying to figure out who I was.

Shit. What am I even doing?

“Lei?” I heard her call out.