Chapter 5

THE FOLLOWING days were filled with talks about the major preparations for the new Chief Executive Officer, Damon Montero, and the wedding of the "Morata princess," Ynah Andrea Morata. My father called me to his office at home, and now I am standing in front of him.

It has been three days since I agreed to the marriage. I cut off my connections with my friends and realized that my life is about to take a complete 180-degree turn. Once I get out of this never-ending madness, I will disappear. My anger towards my parents is overwhelming.

The door to his office opened. I didn't turn around, thinking it might just be my mother or a secretary, but I was wrong. I could feel him standing beside me, tall and proud.

"You called for me, Sir," Damon said.

I glanced at him. He was wearing a casual coat and black pants, with his black shoes and a white button-down shirt underneath. He looked like a good catch, especially knowing he's a CEO. However, now that I know how ruthless he is, I'd rather not, thank you!

Papa looked at the two of us for a while. It was as if he expected Damon to hold me or kiss me or something. This old man probably forgot that I'm marrying his golden boy for show and nothing more.

"The articles are running very well," Papa began.

I sighed heavily. I knew he had orchestrated this to make it seem bigger than it is.

"But some tabloids are putting out negative news," Papa said, placing an iPad in front of us.

I saw the first article with the title:

"Rehab the daughter first, Damon Montero is a good catch!"

What a tasteless title of an article! Damon swiped left, and I saw more articles.

"They're not even an item!"

"Montero daughter’s boyfriend is the cocaine boy Almendrala."

"Montero deserves better."

"Montero’s girlfriend is a lawyer." He swiped quickly through the articles.

I glanced at him before reading another article. Damon stopped swiping.

"The Big Boss solution to her wild daughter."

"Sir, we can just ignore these tabloids," Damon said formally.

Papa nodded and thought for a moment before looking back at Damon. "However, would you mind if I suggest that you reduce some of these?"

Damon shifted his position. Papa looked at me. "Your wedding is in just one week. You have a schedule for prenuptial pictures and gown fitting, but do you think you could squeeze in... a little... you know... intimate dinner or something, for the two of you? Just to be seen together in public, a few days before the wedding."

Damon glanced at me. I sighed.

"Papa, do we really need to? Are we really that affected by all these tabloids? We shouldn't care about what they're saying. Let's just do the wedding and get it over with. After that, they'll go silent."

"You really think they will stop, Ysay? If we don't do this now, after the wedding, there will be more intrigue about how shady your relationship is. It's better to nip this in the bud. I don't want my plan to fail. I want to marry you off to Damon to clean your name, not to attract more intrigues around it!"

"But Papa, this is so petty!"

"It may not seem important, but I can't ignore it. It pains me to know that I am marrying you off, and if it fails, our problems will only double. We better just do this. There's nothing else we can do."

Unbelievable.

The idea of marrying Damon Montero in a week is hard to believe, and now, with all my father's demands, I have nothing else to say!

"Okay, Mr. Morata. No problem. I'll arrange a dinner after my meeting later."

"Make it two. And make sure to reserve in a big hotel with a lot of people, so many can see you."

I rolled my eyes, feeling annoyed. I couldn't understand how I ended up in this simple yet ridiculous situation.

Damon looked at me and opened his phone. I found it somewhat repulsive.

"Put your number in, and I'll call you. Tell me which hotel you prefer, and I'll make the reservation."

"I'll find a nice hotel. I'll text you about it later," I added.

Damon didn't say anything else, and Papa just looked at me. Papa nodded at him.

"You two should establish a good relationship with the public so the rumors about this being a pragmatic marriage would stop."

"It's so obvious, Papa. Anyone would think that—"

"That's why you need to do this now, Ysabelle."

It felt like I had no choice. This was a harsh challenge.

I rolled my eyes again, took his phone, and typed my number in. His phone looked boring, with a default wallpaper. I handed it back to him, and he typed something on it. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, and I knew it was him.

"I'll find a nice hotel. I'll text you about it later," I said.

Damon didn't speak anymore and looked at Papa. Papa nodded at him.

It's not like this would do anything, though. I'm very sure nobody will change their minds! Even if we follow each other on all social media accounts and upload many pictures together, it would only look like we're trying to fool everyone! It would only make things worse!

I searched for a hotel. I stayed home all day, and I can't deny that I was somewhat excited to go out, even if it was with Damon and for something pointless like this!

The cake tasting and even the gown fitting will be here, as my mother wanted it to be. That means I will never leave the house until the wedding day.

Maybe it's a good thing we have these dates, huh? At least I won't lose my mind here at home, thinking about how my life is turning into a big joke.

Because of my excitement to go out, I carefully planned what to wear. Wearing a black leather sweetheart cropped top and a high-waist black cotton a-line skirt, I left my walk-in closet with soft makeup and my hair styled by my mother's hairstylist.

I realized it had been a while since I dressed up formally. I usually wear small, sexy clothes for parties and often bikinis because I frequently go to the beach.

Mama praised me a bit. I forced a smile and sat back at the dresser for the final touch-ups by the hair and makeup artists. Mama held my shoulders. The way she looked at my reflection, I felt like she was sad and regretful about her decision, especially whenever I gave her a tired smile.

I can't help but think that both Mama and Papa are cruel. I know I'm at fault too, but is this really the only way? It's not like I'm not regretful. I promise to put my life together this time, but I guess they've had enough of all my stunts.

"You're very beautiful, Ysabelle, my child."

I just gave a tired smile.

"I'll check if Damon is here. His secretary said he left the office and is on his way."

I nodded wearily. Mama looked at me for a while but eventually left the room.

I took a deep breath and looked at the stylists and artists. There's nothing I can do but accept that this is really happening, right? The only consolation about this is that in the end, I'll get an annulment from that man.

We will both be free. After that, I promise everything will go back to the way it was.

Back to a free life...