A Lie That Turned Into Destiny

The rumors were spreading like wildfire. People were astounded, shocked by the confirmation from Gypsy’s mother that her daughter was indeed involved with none other than Drake Mortel, a man admired and respected by everyone. Drake Mortel was no ordinary person. He was a successful businessman who hailed from a prominent family—one that commanded attention and respect. His list of accomplishments was endless. He had toppled countless rival companies, acquired massive estates, controlled powerful industries, and made billion-dollar investments. His name was synonymous with success, and his reputation glittered like gold. No wonder he was the talk of the town.

Many had tried to gain influence over him, but Drake Mortel was a man who eluded even the most persistent. He was a mystery. No one could say with certainty whether he was a young bachelor or an older widower. To the public, Drake was a riddle wrapped in enigma. People only knew of his wealth, power, and remarkable achievements—never his true self. His persona remained hidden behind the impenetrable walls he had built around him.

But now, with his name linked to a well-known engineer turned "escort"—Gypsy—a wave of speculation and intrigue had begun to rise. The revelation of their supposed relationship had triggered a storm of gossip, and questions were flying as to who exactly this elusive Drake Mortel was. Was he the dashing young man some claimed him to be? Or was he an older widower, a man who only sought to be with Gypsy for her beauty, while Gypsy, in turn, pursued him for his wealth and power?

Theories ran rampant. Some insisted that Drake Mortel was a bachelor, still young and charismatic, while others believed he was much older and a widower, implying that Gypsy was nothing more than another gold-digger seeking a “sugar daddy” to satisfy her material desires. Yet, many couldn’t reconcile this idea. They knew Gypsy’s family—wealthy and well-established—didn’t need to cling to any man for financial stability. She could buy anything she wanted, any time she wanted it. So it was clear to them that Drake Mortel wasn’t just any older man. He was the kind of man who would attract women like Gypsy, with her undeniable beauty and magnetic charm.

The stories circulating in the media were endless, but none of them were grounded in truth. They were mere speculations, born out of people’s desire to unearth the secrets of a man who was seemingly untouchable, a man whose name alone sparked curiosity, awe, and wonder. No one knew Drake, not really—only the public’s image of him, shaped by his success and his silence.

As Gypsy sifted through the gossip and wild theories in the papers, a sense of unease gripped her heart. She couldn’t deny that she had stepped into a whirlwind of complications. The more she read, the more she realized how much this situation was spiraling out of control. The truth was, she wanted to speak up. She wanted to tell everyone that the rumors were nothing but lies—that there was no relationship between her and Drake Mortel, that it was all just a joke. The whole thing had started as a ruse, something to throw off her suitors and avoid the constant attention from men who only wanted her for her looks.

But Gypsy knew that doing so would humiliate her mother. Her mother was the one who had orchestrated this mess, the one who had called the press to spread the fabricated story. She couldn’t bring herself to betray her mother, even if it meant facing the consequences of this unintentional scandal. The weight of the situation was heavy on her shoulders, and a part of her felt trapped, caught between protecting her pride and preserving her mother’s reputation.

As much as Gypsy wanted to deny the whole affair, she realized that the rumors would eventually die down. This storm would pass, and the truth, whatever it was, would come to light in its own time. For now, she decided to let the world think what it wanted. She’d ride out the storm, one wave at a time, and hoped that, in the end, the world would forget about this odd chapter of her life.

As Gypsy walked through the school grounds, she felt like a stranger in her own life. Everything was different now. People were greeting her, wanting to be friends, offering all sorts of things. It wasn’t like this before. In fact, she vividly remembered how they would look at her with disdain, sneering and raising their eyebrows, their jealousy and anger obvious. They resented her not just for her success, but because their boyfriends seemed to be drawn to her, always giving her attention.

But now? Now, they were all smiles and friendliness. It was as if the world had completely shifted overnight. Gypsy didn’t even bother to pay attention to the fake kindness or the glances they sent her way. Why should I? she thought. She knew what it was all about. They weren’t interested in her for who she was—they were just interested in the fact that she was now attached to a powerful man. It wasn’t about her anymore; it was about what he could give her, what he could offer them.

What used to be a source of insecurity now felt like a shield. No man dared to approach her now, no one dared to flirt or pester her to date them. She was off-limits. And while some part of her resented how this had all come to be, she couldn’t deny the peace it brought her. No more pressure, no more unwanted attention. For the first time, she could just breathe.

As she sat alone in the canteen, trying to enjoy her lunch, she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. She could feel the stares of the other students, their eyes on her as if she were some exhibit at a museum. Every move she made seemed amplified, scrutinized. Great, she thought sarcastically. Now I’m the center of attention. She had come to the canteen alone, without Melissa, who was happily sitting with her boyfriend. Gypsy didn’t mind; she wasn’t really in the mood for small talk anyway.

She had always kept to herself, even in a crowd. She had acquaintances, sure, but real friends? That was a different story. The people who sat around her pretending to be her friends were nothing more than sycophants, people who only cared because they thought they could get something from her. She didn’t trust any of them. They were all temporary. She didn’t build attachments to people—trust was something she couldn’t afford to give out easily.

But just as she took another bite of her food, she heard voices approaching her table. It was Rona’s group, the same people who had barely acknowledged her before. Rona and her friends set down their trays with a clink, sitting at her table with a casual ease.

“Mind if we sit here? There are no empty spots anywhere else,” Rona asked, her voice warm.

Gypsy glanced at her, offering a small shrug. “Sure, no problem. I’m almost done anyway.”

The group settled in around her, and Rona, clearly excited, turned toward her. “By the way, Gypsy, I just wanted to thank you for the tips you’ve been sending me. Guess what? Mike and I are officially a thing now!” she said, practically glowing. The smile on Rona’s face, the way her lips shimmered as she spoke, showed just how happy she truly was.

“Congrats,” Gypsy replied with a genuine smile. She had always liked Rona well enough, even if their interactions had been minimal in the past.

Rona’s smile softened as she leaned in. “Can we be friends? I know I didn’t like you before. It wasn’t because of you, really. I was just insecure, you know? I didn’t want to admit it, but I didn’t like how Mike always seemed to notice you. But now… things are different. There’s no reason for me to hold any grudges. So, how about it? Let’s just start over.”

Gypsy paused for a moment, processing her words. Rona was being sincere, she could tell. The group of girls that had followed Rona’s lead, who were also sitting with her, were just as nice. She had known these girls since high school, and they had always been good people. There was no real reason to turn them away.

“Alright,” Gypsy said, offering a small nod. “I can do that. Let’s just… keep it real.”

Rona’s eyes lit up, and she beamed at Gypsy. “Thank you, Gypsy. Really. I’m glad we can be friends now.”

As they continued chatting, Gypsy felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something new. Something real. Something not tied to the image or the expectations others had of her. It wasn’t about Mike. It wasn’t about her reputation. It was just about finding a connection, a little bit of peace in a world that had suddenly turned upside down.

There were four of them in the group—Lisa, Kyla, Nana, and Rona. Best friends through thick and thin. They weren’t the typical “mean girls” everyone feared, but they were competitive and had their eyes set on academic excellence and leadership positions. They knew how to stand out, but they did so in a way that wasn’t malicious.

"Sure," Gypsy replied, not really feeling like she had a choice.

"So, let’s have lunch together tomorrow?" Lisa added with a grin, eager to set another plan in motion.

Gypsy nodded, though she wasn’t sure how much of her day she wanted to spend with them, especially with everything going on.

When she got home, her phone was practically non-stop, with calls coming in from various talk shows and news outlets. They all wanted to interview her, to feature her alongside Drake Mortel. They wanted her to speak about him, about the supposed relationship that everyone seemed to believe was true. She was overwhelmed. She didn’t want to do it. What could she possibly say? The whole thing was a lie. She didn’t want to fabricate a story. If she went through with it, it would just get more complicated. She was afraid of what might happen if Drake Mortel found out about this. What if he got angry? What if he did something to make her regret it? His name was now tied to hers in a way that made her feel uneasy.

"Mom, I don’t want to do it," she said, setting the phone down after another call.

Her mother, however, was insistent. "You need to. This is an opportunity."

"What am I supposed to say in the interview, Mom? I don’t even know what to tell them!" Gypsy felt like she was drowning in all the lies that were being forced upon her.

"Just tell them what they want to hear. You’re dating him, right? Just answer whatever they ask you," her mom pushed, her tone not leaving much room for refusal.

"But the truth is, I’m not his girlfriend, Mom. Please, I can’t do this," Gypsy’s voice trembled as she tried to reason with her.

For a moment, her mom fell silent. Her face grew serious, and Gypsy could feel the weight of the conversation shift.

"I know you’re not his girlfriend," her mom said softly, her eyes locking with Gypsy’s. "But please, do me this favor, ija. This is our chance to meet Drake Mortel."

The sudden shift in her mother's demeanor took Gypsy by surprise. She had never seen her mother so serious, so determined. This wasn’t about the interviews anymore. It was about something else entirely.

Gypsy stared at her mom, the realization dawning on her. "But Mom..." she began, her words faltering.

"You don’t have to worry," her mom continued, her voice now full of quiet resolve.

"Once I reach out to Mortel, everything will be fine."

"Why are all the businessmen so interested in him, Mom?" Gypsy couldn’t hold back the question anymore. What was it about Drake Mortel that had everyone so obsessed? Was he some kind of god?

Her mother’s eyes hardened, her voice low but firm. "There are things you don’t understand yet. Drake Mortel’s influence is powerful. He can make a company go bankrupt or help it expand. That’s why businessmen cling to him like leeches. But that’s not what we’re after from him, Gypsy. Everything we’re doing is for your future. Let me give you a hint I already prepared your future as for now try not to understand cause it will not make sense for you. Time will come just wait."

Gypsy’s heart skipped a beat. Now she understood. It wasn’t just about business for her mom. It was about more than that. There was something deeper going on, something Gypsy couldn’t quite grasp. She knew that her mother wanted to use her—use this issue, this scandal that had become a trend—to get close to Drake Mortel. It wasn’t just about the business deals, the power, or the money. It was about being noticed by him. Using Gypsy as a bait to lure Drake into making contact.

The whole thing made her stomach churn. This wasn’t just about her and Drake anymore. This was about manipulation, power, and something much bigger than Gypsy had initially realized.

Her mom’s plans were coming into focus, and Gypsy felt both trapped and powerless in the middle of it all. She couldn’t ignore it. The rumors had already spread. This issue had become a hot topic, and now, she was just a pawn in a game that she didn’t choose. The only thing left now was to wait for Drake Mortel to catch wind of it and, just like her mother expected, reach out for the negotiation her mom had been waiting for.

In order to talk to and negotiate with Drake, strategies and methods were needed to force him to make contact. This man was truly elusive.

What about me? What will happen to me? Gypsy couldn’t stop asking herself these questions as she lay in bed, thinking about everything that had unfolded. Her mom had reached out to Drake Mortel, and now, it seemed like there was no turning back. She could almost visualize herself slipping back into a normal life. The weight on her chest seemed to ease for a moment, and she felt a sense of relief.

But deep down, she knew it was far from over. She had made her bed, and now she had to lie in it. She had to move forward. She had to stand by the lie she had told. It made her nervous, her heart pounding in her chest, but she refused to let it show. She kept her posture strong, shoulders straight, and focused on the camera as the talk show began. The lights were blinding, and the set felt suffocating. But she didn’t show it. She couldn’t.

As the host began asking her questions, she felt the pressure intensify. It was happening. The moment she had been dreading, and yet, there was no turning back now.

"So, Gypsy, why did you like Drake Mortel?" The host’s voice rang out, cutting through the silence.

Gypsy took a deep breath, mentally scanning through the ideal answers she had prepared in her head. This was what people wanted to hear. She had to stick to the story.

"Why did I like him? Well, to be honest, he ticks all my boxes. He’s an engineer, incredibly handsome, super smart, a great kisser, and very caring. He’s got that bad boy vibe, you know? It’s just that walk, that appeal," she answered confidently, sticking to the script, even though inside, her nerves were screaming.

The audience erupted into cheers and applause.

"Omg, so Drake is the ideal man!" one voice shouted from the crowd.

"I told you he was a hottie!" someone else called out.

"So lucky, girl!" more voices chimed in.

"How do you do it, Gypsy?" The audience laughed, and Gypsy couldn’t help but force a smile, trying to maintain the illusion.

The host asked the next question, a little smoother this time, "So, how did you two meet?"

Gypsy leaned back slightly, letting the words flow out. Just make it sound believable, she thought. You’ve got this.

"We met unexpectedly, in Boracay. I was swimming alone, and he just… showed up. He was there, accompanying me, and it just happened. He was into me, and I was into him, so… that’s how we became a couple." Gypsy answered, feeling a slight sting in her chest as she lied. But she pushed it aside and made the story sound effortless, making sure her voice remained steady and full of life. She needed to sell it—she needed the audience to believe her.

The next question made her wince slightly.

"Why doesn’t Drake want to show his face in public?"

Gypsy felt a twinge of confusion, but she quickly masked it. She didn’t know the answer, and that scared her.

"Well, he values his privacy. He wants everything about him to remain private, and we have to respect that decision," she said, not knowing if that was the reason. She wasn’t even sure it was true, but she had to make it sound right.

The headache was starting to creep in. The questions kept coming, most of them focused on business—things she had no idea about. She wasn’t even studying business. She was a medical student, for heaven’s sake. She wasn’t supposed to answer these things. She wasn’t an expert. But still, they kept coming, and she had to keep responding.

One of the questions struck a nerve: "Are you just using Drake for business opportunities?"

She almost froze. The question was too sensitive, too real. But she knew there was only one answer she could give.

"No!" she exclaimed, her voice firm. "Of course not. I’m not using him."

Who would admit to something like that? Not her.

When the interview finally ended, Gypsy felt a rush of relief flood through her, but it didn’t last long. The moment she stepped off the stage, she could feel the pressure mounting again. She knew the interview would go viral. It was already trending as the number one topic, the "Mystery About Drake" segment had caught fire. She had seen the headlines on TV Patrol and other news channels.

She was sure Drake Mortel had seen it by now. He had to have. The lies were out there, and she couldn’t take them back. What would happen when he heard them? She couldn’t stop worrying.

Back home, her mom was insistent that she stay indoors. "You can’t go out," her mom told her, a firm command in her voice. "You’re not allowed to go anywhere except school or home. We’re waiting for a call from the Mortels."

Gypsy’s stomach twisted. She hadn’t left the house for days. She locked herself in her room, binge-watching N*****x to distract herself. The days dragged on. Then the weeks. And months. But still, no call. No sign of Drake Mortel.

Gypsy started to assume that maybe he had no intention of making an appearance. He was a mystery, after all. Maybe the whole thing was just a figment of her imagination. Maybe he wasn’t going to show up, and everything would go back to normal. Or maybe not. She had no idea.

But one thing was clear—whatever her mom’s plans were, they weren’t going to unfold as easily as they had hoped. Gypsy wasn’t sure where all this would lead, but she knew one thing for certain: her life had already changed forever.

She started shopping, hanging out with friends, and becoming closer to Rona's squad. They were now inseparable—eating together, spending time together. She had truly become a part of the group. It was rare that she could hang out with her best friend anymore because her best friend was always busy with modeling and her boyfriend.

"Let’s go to the bar," Rona invited her one evening.

"Count me in!" she replied eagerly. Their schedules were finally lightening up; the semester was almost over, and the pressures of school were beginning to ease. Despite the fact that some of her friends were nerds, they weren’t about to miss out on the fun.

She couldn’t afford to sit this one out. She needed to have fun too. Even if her mother forbade her from going out, she decided this time, she would defy her.

"I’ll see you later, okay?" she messaged.

" I will just send the location in the group chat," Rona replied.

"Make sure everyone shows up!" she said with a smile.

When she returned home, she found her father sitting in the living room, as if waiting for someone. As soon as he saw her, he gestured for her to sit across from him.

"Dad, I thought you were coming next month?" she asked, confused. Why was he home so suddenly? Her father had been living abroad for years, as their family’s business was based there. Her mother only visited her twice a month, and it was rare to see both parents together for an extended period.

"Are you not happy I’m home?" her father asked, his voice calm yet intense.

"Of course I’m happy, Dad," she replied, trying to mask the growing unease inside her.

"Good. I’m staying here for a month because there’s something we need to settle."

Settle? The moment she heard that word, a sense of doubt washed over her. What could he possibly need to settle in the Philippines? As far as she knew, he had sold all their businesses here and chosen to focus on expanding their chain of hospitals and hotels abroad.

And what was even more suspicious was the fact that he was staying for an entire month. He hadn’t even been able to come home for her birthday because he claimed he needed to oversee the business. He had always prioritized his work over family. So why now? Why was he putting everything on hold to settle something here in the Philippines?

Her thoughts raced as she looked at her father, trying to read his expression. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to this sudden change in his behavior.

"What about your business, Dad?" she asked cautiously, hoping to find some reassurance.

"Our business is doing well," he replied calmly. "There’s no issue with it. But there’s something I need to tell you."

His tone shifted—softer, but heavier. He reached for her hand, his grip firm but gentle, and looked her directly in the eyes. The seriousness in his face made her heart race. Whatever he was about to say was important. Too important. Something that would change everything.

The uncertainty hung in the air, thick and suffocating. "What is it, Dad?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly as the weight of the moment pressed down on her.

"Just promise me that you'll do one thing I ask of you. In the right time, I’ll tell you what it is. Okay?" His gaze was steady, searching her eyes for a sign that she understood the gravity of his request.

She didn’t hesitate. It was rare for her father to ask for something from her, and when he did, it was always something significant. If he needed her to do something, no matter how difficult or confusing, she would do it. Her love and loyalty to him were unquestionable.

"Okay, Dad," she replied softly, a mixture of curiosity and unease swirling inside her.

"Good," he said, a small nod signaling his approval. "Now, go upstairs and take a rest. You've had a long day."

She stood up slowly, her mind racing with a thousand questions, but she didn't dare voice them. The serious look on her father's face told her that whatever he was planning was bigger than she could understand right now. She turned and slowly made her way up the stairs, her thoughts tangled with a sense of foreboding. What could he possibly be hiding? And why did it feel like everything in her life was about to change?