Drake Mortel had spent the last five years building an empire, expanding his businesses across continents. But no matter how much he achieved, his thoughts always drifted back to her—Gypsy Cameron. He had never stopped following her life from a distance, watching as she pursued her dreams. She had gone on to study medicine at Harvard, specializing in neurosurgery, becoming the brilliant woman he always knew she would be. And while she chased her dream of healing others, he chased his dream of becoming the man worthy of standing by her side.But he no longer hid behind masks. Akie—the charming Australian model persona he had once created—was gone. He had shed every illusion, leaving only the man he truly was: Drake Mortel. And yet, even with his wealth, status, and an endless line of women vying for his attention, none of it mattered. His heart still belonged to Gypsy.Now, after five long years, he had a chance.“Dude, I heard the love of your life is coming back to the Philippines. Tw
Drake stirred awake as the golden rays of the morning sun streamed through the bedroom window. The warmth of the light fell upon his face, rousing him from his deep slumber. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he turned his head to the side and found Gypsy lying beside him, still fast asleep. Her breathing was soft and even, her bare shoulders rising and falling gently beneath the sheets. For a fleeting moment, he simply watched her, memorizing every delicate feature of her face. Then, unable to resist, he leaned in, intending to place a gentle kiss on her lips.But just as he was about to close the distance between them, her eyelids fluttered open.“Good morning,” he greeted, quickly pulling away.Gypsy didn’t respond. Instead, without a word, she threw back the covers and began gathering her scattered clothes from the floor. The silence between them was deafening as she slipped into her dress, her movements brisk and detached.“Where’s my bag?” she asked, her voice devoid of emot
Gypsy stepped into his house, immediately fanning herself. "I feel hot. Do you not have an air conditioner here?" she asked, her voice laced with discomfort.Drake turned on the air conditioning, setting it to full blast, but it seemed to have little effect. Gypsy still looked flushed, beads of sweat forming on her temples. She shrugged off the jacket he had given her earlier, and to his horror, she looked like she was about to take off even more."Wait! What are you doing?" he stopped her just as she reached for the hem of her blouse."Are you blind? I'm undressing.""But you're in my room."She let out a teasing laugh, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, please. This isn’t the first time we’ve been in the same room without clothes on. Did you forget?"Of course, he didn’t forget. It haunted him, replayed in his mind more times than he’d care to admit. As she stepped closer, he could feel the heat radiating off her. Even in her drunken state, she was undeniably intoxicating. She wrapped
"Ate Gypsy!" Natalia's cheerful voice rang out as she spotted her. Natalia, Vincent’s younger sister, had grown close to her over time. Gypsy had just arrived at the gathering—a welcome party for Vincent."Glad to see you, Ate Gypsy!" Natalie, another one of Vincent’s sisters, greeted her with a warm smile. Before she could respond, they guided her toward a table, insisting that she sit with them.But calling it a party was a bit of an exaggeration. It was more of an intimate family dinner, a gathering meant to celebrate Vincent’s return. Gypsy had long been a familiar presence in Vincent’s household. His family had always been welcoming, treating her like she was one of their own—a second family.Her eyes wandered to the feast spread across the table. "Wow, there’s so much food! And these are all my favorites!" she exclaimed, delighted yet puzzled. It was as if the menu had been designed with her in mind."You know, Tita, these are all my favorites," she pointed out playfully, looking
Gypsy knew that Drake was busy, but this was important—she was leaving for the States soon. She called him again, hoping he would finally agree, but his response remained the same. He turned her down once more. A lump formed in her throat as disappointment settled deep in her chest. Was he avoiding her? She had invited him to dinner several times, wanting to tell him something in person, but each time, he refused. This was the first time he had ever rejected her, and it stung more than she expected.More than that, it took him hours to respond to her calls and messages, as if she were no longer a priority. Was he growing tired of chasing her? Was he no longer the man who used to move heaven and earth just to be with her? Gypsy had finally gathered the courage to open up about her feelings, but it seemed like it was too late. Maybe Drake had already lost interest in her.Yet, deep inside, she was sure he still loved her. She could feel it. She held onto that belief, convincing herself t
[Veronica's PoV]"Gypsy."Veronica turned sharply at the sound of the name. As the day of mourning continued, the funeral was finally reaching its conclusion. This was the last time they would see Mrs. Mortel, the final farewell before she was laid to rest forever. The air was thick with grief, but Veronica had something else on her mind.She knew Gypsy was jealous of her—jealous because she had been by Drake’s side throughout this ordeal. Gypsy didn’t know that she and Drake were cousins, and judging by the way she kept glaring at her, it was obvious what she was thinking. She probably assumed that there was something romantic between them. Veronica smirked. If that was what Gypsy wanted to believe, then so be it.As Gypsy walked away after saying her goodbyes to her mother, Veronica took a step forward, calling out, "Wait."Gypsy hesitated but eventually turned around, her expression unreadable."You’re Gypsy, right? I’m Veronica" Veronica asked directly, watching the way Gypsy’s eye
Gypsy had so many plans for the day, yet she put everything on hold. She even asked their housemaid to accompany her to the grocery store to buy the necessary ingredients. Today, she wanted to cook for Drake. She knew how hectic his schedule was at the office, and she thought it would be best to bring him food when she visited. The meals she had prepared weren’t just ordinary dishes—they were special recipes crafted with love and devotion. She had even spent hours learning how to perfect his favorite adobo through YouTube tutorials.With a heart full of excitement, she got ready, packed the homemade meal into a lunchbox, and set off.As soon as she stepped into the towering building of Drake’s company, she felt a surge of confidence. The security guard and several employees who recognized her greeted her warmly. She responded with a sweet smile, her heart swelling with happiness. Today, she felt exceptionally beautiful, and the world seemed to reflect that feeling right back at her.Ho
Drake had no choice but to return to the office, yet hope still burned within him. Despite everything that had happened, he refused to believe that all was lost. There had to be a way—some path that would lead him back to Gypsy. He could feel her slipping away, distancing herself from him more and more with each passing day, but he wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet. Not without a fight.The thought of never seeing her again, of never having another chance to make things right, gnawed at his soul. He couldn’t allow their story to end this way. With desperation simmering in his chest, he reached for his phone and dialed a familiar number.After a few rings, Mrs. Cameron, Gypsy’s mother, answered."Yes, Drake? What’s the problem?" Her voice carried a weight, a quiet sadness that spoke of a mother’s deep understanding."I wanted to discuss the arranged marriage," he said, his throat tightening. He had never imagined this conversation would be so difficult, yet here he was, forcing the words
Gypsy couldn’t hold back the flood of tears as she stood beside Drake, her heart pounding with a mix of anguish and hope. Every drop that slid down her cheeks carried the weight of fear—the terror of losing the one person who meant everything to her"I love you too, Drake," she whispered, her voice trembling, thick with sorrow and devotion. As Drake pulled her into his embrace, the world around them seemed to blur, as if nothing else existed beyond the warmth of his arms.Her chest tightened as her gaze traveled over his bruises, the angry red gashes painting his skin—cruel reminders of the accident that had nearly taken him from her. The mere thought of losing him made her breath hitch in her throat."Drake, we have to get you to a hospital," she urged, desperation lacing her tone. She needed to know he was going to be okay. She couldn’t bear another second of uncertainty.Around them, the gathered witnesses shared in her pain. The sight of their once unshakable Gypsy, the girl who h
Tomorrow, Gypsy would be leaving for the States. The weight of that reality pressed down on her like an unbearable storm, suffocating in its finality. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the open suitcase in front of her, her fingers trembling as she folded each piece of clothing. The fabric felt foreign in her hands, as if they belonged to a version of herself that no longer existed. She was bringing so little, yet it still felt like too much—too many remnants of a life she had to leave behind, too many reminders of what was lost.As she zipped up the suitcase, the silence in the room became deafening. It was a silence thick with unspoken pain, filled with ghosts of laughter, whispered promises, and a love that once felt unbreakable. Her chest tightened, and though she tried to hold it in, the tears came anyway. Hot, unstoppable, searing against her cheeks. She let them fall. She had to.And then there was him.Drake.His name was a whisper in her mind, a bittersweet ache that
Drake had no choice but to return to the office, yet hope still burned within him. Despite everything that had happened, he refused to believe that all was lost. There had to be a way—some path that would lead him back to Gypsy. He could feel her slipping away, distancing herself from him more and more with each passing day, but he wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet. Not without a fight.The thought of never seeing her again, of never having another chance to make things right, gnawed at his soul. He couldn’t allow their story to end this way. With desperation simmering in his chest, he reached for his phone and dialed a familiar number.After a few rings, Mrs. Cameron, Gypsy’s mother, answered."Yes, Drake? What’s the problem?" Her voice carried a weight, a quiet sadness that spoke of a mother’s deep understanding."I wanted to discuss the arranged marriage," he said, his throat tightening. He had never imagined this conversation would be so difficult, yet here he was, forcing the words
Gypsy had so many plans for the day, yet she put everything on hold. She even asked their housemaid to accompany her to the grocery store to buy the necessary ingredients. Today, she wanted to cook for Drake. She knew how hectic his schedule was at the office, and she thought it would be best to bring him food when she visited. The meals she had prepared weren’t just ordinary dishes—they were special recipes crafted with love and devotion. She had even spent hours learning how to perfect his favorite adobo through YouTube tutorials.With a heart full of excitement, she got ready, packed the homemade meal into a lunchbox, and set off.As soon as she stepped into the towering building of Drake’s company, she felt a surge of confidence. The security guard and several employees who recognized her greeted her warmly. She responded with a sweet smile, her heart swelling with happiness. Today, she felt exceptionally beautiful, and the world seemed to reflect that feeling right back at her.Ho
[Veronica's PoV]"Gypsy."Veronica turned sharply at the sound of the name. As the day of mourning continued, the funeral was finally reaching its conclusion. This was the last time they would see Mrs. Mortel, the final farewell before she was laid to rest forever. The air was thick with grief, but Veronica had something else on her mind.She knew Gypsy was jealous of her—jealous because she had been by Drake’s side throughout this ordeal. Gypsy didn’t know that she and Drake were cousins, and judging by the way she kept glaring at her, it was obvious what she was thinking. She probably assumed that there was something romantic between them. Veronica smirked. If that was what Gypsy wanted to believe, then so be it.As Gypsy walked away after saying her goodbyes to her mother, Veronica took a step forward, calling out, "Wait."Gypsy hesitated but eventually turned around, her expression unreadable."You’re Gypsy, right? I’m Veronica" Veronica asked directly, watching the way Gypsy’s eye
Gypsy knew that Drake was busy, but this was important—she was leaving for the States soon. She called him again, hoping he would finally agree, but his response remained the same. He turned her down once more. A lump formed in her throat as disappointment settled deep in her chest. Was he avoiding her? She had invited him to dinner several times, wanting to tell him something in person, but each time, he refused. This was the first time he had ever rejected her, and it stung more than she expected.More than that, it took him hours to respond to her calls and messages, as if she were no longer a priority. Was he growing tired of chasing her? Was he no longer the man who used to move heaven and earth just to be with her? Gypsy had finally gathered the courage to open up about her feelings, but it seemed like it was too late. Maybe Drake had already lost interest in her.Yet, deep inside, she was sure he still loved her. She could feel it. She held onto that belief, convincing herself t
"Ate Gypsy!" Natalia's cheerful voice rang out as she spotted her. Natalia, Vincent’s younger sister, had grown close to her over time. Gypsy had just arrived at the gathering—a welcome party for Vincent."Glad to see you, Ate Gypsy!" Natalie, another one of Vincent’s sisters, greeted her with a warm smile. Before she could respond, they guided her toward a table, insisting that she sit with them.But calling it a party was a bit of an exaggeration. It was more of an intimate family dinner, a gathering meant to celebrate Vincent’s return. Gypsy had long been a familiar presence in Vincent’s household. His family had always been welcoming, treating her like she was one of their own—a second family.Her eyes wandered to the feast spread across the table. "Wow, there’s so much food! And these are all my favorites!" she exclaimed, delighted yet puzzled. It was as if the menu had been designed with her in mind."You know, Tita, these are all my favorites," she pointed out playfully, looking
Gypsy stepped into his house, immediately fanning herself. "I feel hot. Do you not have an air conditioner here?" she asked, her voice laced with discomfort.Drake turned on the air conditioning, setting it to full blast, but it seemed to have little effect. Gypsy still looked flushed, beads of sweat forming on her temples. She shrugged off the jacket he had given her earlier, and to his horror, she looked like she was about to take off even more."Wait! What are you doing?" he stopped her just as she reached for the hem of her blouse."Are you blind? I'm undressing.""But you're in my room."She let out a teasing laugh, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, please. This isn’t the first time we’ve been in the same room without clothes on. Did you forget?"Of course, he didn’t forget. It haunted him, replayed in his mind more times than he’d care to admit. As she stepped closer, he could feel the heat radiating off her. Even in her drunken state, she was undeniably intoxicating. She wrapped
Drake stirred awake as the golden rays of the morning sun streamed through the bedroom window. The warmth of the light fell upon his face, rousing him from his deep slumber. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he turned his head to the side and found Gypsy lying beside him, still fast asleep. Her breathing was soft and even, her bare shoulders rising and falling gently beneath the sheets. For a fleeting moment, he simply watched her, memorizing every delicate feature of her face. Then, unable to resist, he leaned in, intending to place a gentle kiss on her lips.But just as he was about to close the distance between them, her eyelids fluttered open.“Good morning,” he greeted, quickly pulling away.Gypsy didn’t respond. Instead, without a word, she threw back the covers and began gathering her scattered clothes from the floor. The silence between them was deafening as she slipped into her dress, her movements brisk and detached.“Where’s my bag?” she asked, her voice devoid of emot