Ch. 4: Photo engagement

Ingrid Alessia’s Point of View

Two days later, I found myself in a penthouse suite turned into a war zone of makeup brushes, designer gowns, and camera tripods. The air was thick with perfume, hairspray, and tension.

“Final touch-ups!” sigaw ng makeup artist habang hinihila ang mukha ko pabalik sa center. I sat still, letting them paint me into the perfect image of a bride-to-be. Hindi ako humihinga masyado. One wrong move and they’d think I was fragile.

But I wasn’t. I was just tired.

“Ma’am, your stylist sent the schedule,” sabi ng assistant ko, handing over a thin folder. “Whole day shoot for the announcement. Six looks. One couple shot by the rooftop.” I nodded, flipping through the neatly printed itinerary. My name, paired with his.

Ingrid Alessia Romano-Moretti.

Parang hindi pa rin totoo. I glanced at the mirror. The woman staring back wore elegance, her smile a weapon. Pero sa likod ng smoky eyes and bold lipstick, I saw it, the exhaustion, the disbelief, the quiet fury na hindi mawala. This was my life now. A fake fairy tale for public consumption.

“Ready?” tanong ng coordinator. “Mr. Moretti is on standby.”

Mr. Moretti. Hindi Leonhardt. Never Leon. Lagi siyang ganun, formal lang, na akala mo hindi siya matutunaw sa kalamigan niya kahit subrang tirik ang araw dahil summer, he's also untouchable.

I stood, smoothing down the silk gown and hugging my body. Champagne-colored, the elegant if they called it, expensive too. Parang ako. Mahal, pero hindi pag-aari ng sarili.

Bumukas bigla ang pintuan. There he was. Leonhardt Dietrich Moretti. Dressed in a black suit, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, no tie. Cool and sharp lang.

Nagtagpo ang mga mata namin, and for a second, everything else blurred. The noise, the flashing lights, the clamor of staff, it all faded. Walang emosyon sa mukha niya. Just that same unreadable expression.

“Took you long enough,” he snorted.

“Sorry,” I replied, just as blandly. “Had to make sure I looked the part.”

“You do.” He breathed it without blinking. Without warmth. He offered his arm. And I took it, duh? For a show. Not because I wanted to. But because the cameras were rolling. Kapag wala baka binalibag ko na siya, kung kaya ko naman why nurrttt?

As we posed, the photographer gave instructions like we were dolls. “Closer. Chin up. Smile like you’re in love. That’s it.”

I leaned slightly into him. He placed a hand on my waist like he was checking for a weapon. I plastered on a smile. He didn’t. “Can you at least pretend you’re not dead inside?” I muttered through clenched teeth.

He angled his face closer, jaw sharp against the light. “Can you pretend you’re not lying through yours?”

I dug my nails into my palm but kept smiling. The clicking and flash continue. I sighed. It was all fake. Ano pa nga ba? Pagod na pati kaluluwa ko.

“Now, rooftop shot!” an assistant called out.

We walked in silence again, surrounded by handlers, stylists, and people who didn’t care if we were drowning as long as we looked perfect doing it.

Pagdating sa rooftop, the wind was colder. The skyline stretched behind us, so beautiful, distant, and unreachable.

“Wrap your arms around him, Ingrid. Eyes on him like you’re in love,” sabi ng photographer.

My arms wrapped around Leonhardt’s waist. He didn’t flinch, but his hands never touched me. He was a statue. I looked up at him, forcing a soft gaze. He stared right past me. And still, the cameras clicked.

This would be on every headline by tonight.

Moretti Heir Ties the Knot with Romano Heiress

Engagement of the Year

If only they knew. We weren’t lovers. We were two people trapped in a deal sealed with desperation. A contract dressed in diamonds. And I wondered, how long could we survive pretending this didn’t hurt?

After the press shoot, the real show began.

The engagement announcement wasn’t some intimate dinner. It was an orchestrated event on the top floor of the Moretti-owned luxury hotel. Velvet carpets. Crystal chandeliers. Gold-trimmed invitations. And people in expensive clothes pretended they liked each other.

Tumayo lang ako malapit sa glass wall, a flute of champagne in hand, watching the skyline and blink beneath us like a warning.

“You look like you want to jump,” Leonhardt muttered beside me, his voice was eerily calm, the kind that made silence feel like a loaded gun.

Hindi ako lumingon sa kanya “Only if I can push you first.”

I can see in my peripheral view, his lips twitched. “Charming.”

“You brought me here to charm, didn’t you?” Tanong ko, finally at lumingon na sa kanya ng tuluyan.

“We’re announcing a merger, Ingrid. Not a love story.”

“Tama ka d’yan,” I said, sipping from my glass. “Because this feels more like a funeral.”

Dumapo 'yung tingin niya sa akin na para na niya akong sasaksakin. “Then mourn silently.”

Before I could bite back, we were approached by a server and then, them. 'Yung pamilya niya.

Leonhardt’s mother arrived first, gliding in a beaded gown like royalty. Beside her, his father, ever the power figure, adjusted his cufflinks as though this party was a stockholders’ meeting. Following them was the other one whose name I still didn’t care to remember.

“Oh, look at the happy couple,” Mrs. Moretti said, voice dripping with diplomacy. “Such chemistry.”

I turned on the smile I practiced in the mirror. “We try.”

Hindi umimik si Leonhardt. He just stared at his mother like he was resisting the urge to set the room on fire.

His father gave me a firm nod. “Let’s make this quick. Investors are watching the livestream.”

Of course, there are. Then came the toast. A stage was set up near the piano. Leonhardt and I were ushered up like museum pieces. Cameras flashed. The press was kept behind a velvet rope, but their lenses zoomed in like predators waiting for us to slip.

Kinuha ni Leonhardt ang mic. Well, siguro para makipag plastikan. “To our families, our allies, and those who still believe in legacy,” he began. Nandoon pa rin 'yung pagkakalmado niya. 'Yung pagiging stiff at cold. Siguro kapag ngumiti 'to, pwedi ko na siyang luhuran. “This engagement marks not just a union, but the continuation of something far bigger than two people.”

I glanced at him. There was no warmth. Just duty in his voice. Napatingin din siya sa akin at inilahad ang kamay niya. I took it at ngumiti ng pilit. Sana naman hindi ngiwi ang kinalabasan.

He raised our intertwined hands in front of the guests. “To Ingrid Alessia Romano, who now carries the Moretti name with strength and grace. May this alliance bring peace and power to both sides.”

There was a polite applause. And as I glance at the crowd, it is something they force a smile.

When it was my turn to speak, I took the mic, eyes scanning the crowd again.

Alam ko kung ano ang nakikita nila. A girl in white, standing beside the devil. A pawn who agreed to play the queen.

“I didn’t expect this,” I tell honestly. “Not the lights, the whispers, or the headlines. But if you must step into a storm, you might as well dress for it.”

A few guests laughed softly. Napatingin ako kay Leonhardt, pabalik ulit sa crowd. “Thank you for welcoming me into your world. I may not know all the rules yet, but I know how to survive.”

The applause this time was more genuine. Because even vultures respect boldness.