*Mago’s POV*I didn’t expect her to get up on that stage.Arlene—the woman I told myself I no longer cared about, the woman I convinced myself was nothing more than a tool for revenge—was up there, singing her heart out. She wasn’t the same sweet, innocent girl I’d known before. No, this version of Arlene was bold, confident, and utterly captivating.And I hated it.I hated the way the spotlight caught her, the way her voice softened the crowd, the way her movements seemed so effortless. But most of all, I hated that I noticed it.When the drunk fool climbed onto the stage and started dancing with her, my chest tightened with something I refused to name. I wanted to rip him off that stage, throw him out of my bar, and make it clear to everyone who she really belonged to. But I didn’t.Why would I?She clearly liked the attention. She smiled, played along—flirting effortlessly, like she was just another woman who wante
*Arlene’s POV*Mago sat behind his desk, massaging his temple as he read through the financial report I handed him. The tightness in his jaw told me all I needed to know before he even spoke. The numbers were bad, worse than I expected. The newly opened bar across town had stolen not only our regulars but also our spotlight.“Our regulars are barely showing up,” I said, trying to gauge his mood. “And when they do, it’s just for a quick drink before hopping over to the new place.”Mago leaned back, letting out a frustrated sigh. “We need something more interesting than just serving drinks,” he muttered, his voice carrying the weight of his thoughts.“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” I said, trying to keep my tone professional despite the nerves twisting in my stomach. I had been preparing for this moment, waiting for him to ask for my input. “And it’s not jus
Mago’s POVFor three days, I went to work and came home alone. Arlene had been busy redesigning the house, pouring her heart and soul into it. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought. She was so into it, and honestly, I didn’t mind. It was our house. She was my wife. And I loved the idea of her leaving her touch everywhere—it made the house feel alive, like a home.But tonight was different. It was past midnight when I got home, and the house was dark and eerily quiet. I didn’t bother turning on the lights in the living room as I made my way upstairs. Passing by Arlene’s room, I paused for a second. The door was closed, but I could feel her presence behind it. I’d been fighting the urge to touch her for nights now, and the battle was getting harder. I knew I still loved her. But that love wasn’t strong enough to erase the pain her father had caused me.Shaking my head, I pushed o
*Mago’s POV*The bar was packed, the air electric with anticipation as the first-ever gender battle began. The crowd buzzed with excitement, their cheers and whistles echoing against the walls. Arlene and I stood on opposite sides of the stage, both ready, both determined. I could see the fire in her eyes—a challenge, a promise that she wasn’t going down without a fight.I signaled to Dessa to start the music. As the first beats of the energetic track boomed through the speakers, I began my flairing routine. Bottles twirled and spun in my hands, catching the lights in dazzling flashes. The crowd roared with approval, egging me on as I tossed the shaker high into the air, caught it behind my back, and poured a perfect shot. I finished my first round with a dramatic slam of the shaker onto the bar, my signature smirk firmly in place.Then it was Arlene’s turn.She stepped forward with a coy smile, her moves smooth, c
*Arlene*I confessed to Patricia and Janine about the tangled mess of my relationship with Mago, and ever since, they’ve been checking on me relentlessly, almost like clockwork. They’d call me and insist on meeting up. Janine and Patricia had practically made it their mission to help me win Mago’s favor. Every conversation revolved around strategies, schemes, and advice on how I could make him see me differently.“How did it go?” Janine asked the moment I walked into the café, her sharp gaze piercing through me.I plopped into the chair, exhaustion dragging down my every move. “Not great,” I admitted, sinking into myself. “My plan didn’t work. If anything, Mago’s avoiding me even more.”Janine exhaled sharply, tossing her perfectly manicured hands up in exasperation. “What is wrong with all my friends?” she groaned. “Patricia’s still pining ov
*Mago*I yanked off my shirt, glaring at the lipstick smear Danica had left behind. She was trouble wrapped in a bombshell package—my distant cousin from Florida, with a penchant for stirring up chaos. The moment she found out I’d married Arlene—the daughter of the man who had destroyed my family—Danica decided to make it her mission to stoke the fires of jealousy.She was good at this game. It wasn’t her first time, either. She’d once orchestrated a similar drama with Marco and Janine, pushing Janine to admit her feelings for him. That scheme had been flawless, except Marco caved to Janine too quickly, and I lost my bet with Arlene.Now, the stakes were higher. I had a new bet to win, one I couldn’t afford to lose. Stuart was planning to propose to Patricia soon, which meant I had precious little time to make Arlene give up on this sham of a marriage. Danica was my Plan A. Plan B? Winning the Gender War
“Missed me, baby?” Sapphire purred, her voice a honeyed whisper as she wrapped her arms around my neck, her perfume wafting like a sinful promise. Her lips brushed against my ear, and she added seductively, “I hope you don’t mind having my cousin around.”I didn’t respond. Words were unnecessary—this wasn’t about conversation. I pulled her closer, capturing her lips with mine in a heated kiss, yet something felt off. The usual spark that drove me to hunger for these moments was absent, replaced by a hollow longing. My hands roamed her body, but the usual fire wasn’t there.This had never happened before. My appetite for intimacy had always been insatiable, but now, standing here with Sapphire, it was like grasping at smoke. My thoughts betrayed me, drifting back to Arlene. Memories of her lips, the way they ignited a wildfire of desire within me, flooded my mind. I tried to shake them away, but her image clung to me like a haunting.Sapphire’s fingers trailed down my chest, her touch
*Arlene*I woke to the weight of Mago’s body against mine, his arm draped over my waist, his leg tangled with mine. His steady breaths warmed the back of my neck, and I felt his chest rise and fall in rhythm against me. For a moment, I didn’t move, savoring the rare closeness. My heart hammered, caught between joy and anxiety.I glanced down, relieved and oddly disappointed to see that I was still fully clothed in the same outfit from last night. Nothing had happened. But this—waking up in his arms—was still more than I’d dared to hope for. How long had it been since I’d felt his warmth like this? Since I’d been trapped, willingly, in his embrace?I didn’t want to lose this moment, so I stayed still, pretending to sleep. I knew this was fragile, temporary. I wasn’t sure it would ever happen again.Minutes passed, and then I felt him stir. His hand flexed on my waist, and instead of pul
“Hmmmph,” the pain was unbearable. Every inch of him felt like a foreign invasion, pushing into places that were never meant to be touched this way. I gasped, biting my lip, trying to hold back the scream, but the sharp sting forced it out “Aaargh!”“Just relax, Arlene,” he murmured, his voice trying to soothe me, but it only made the situation worse.“I-I can’t,” I sobbed, my voice breaking, fragile like the very core of my being.“Don’t fight it,” he said again, his hand lifting to cup my face, guiding my gaze to meet his, “Arelene, look at me.”I did not want to look. I did not want to see the intensity in his eyes, the purpose in his every movement. But I couldn’t look away. His gaze held me, trapping me in a silence that felt like it was both suffocating and electric“M-Mago,” I heard myself cry his name, almost a
*Mago*“Hmmmph,” she whimpered, her body tense beneath me as she fought to endure the pain. But the moment I moved again, she screamed, her cry sharp and raw. “Aaargh!”“Just relax, Arlene,” I urged her, my voice strained with worry.“I-I can’t,” she sobbed, her tears flowing freely now.“Don’t fight it,” I said softly, trying to keep my own emotions in check, though the sound of her cries twisted something deep inside me.“Arlene, look at me,” I said, my tone filled with both worry and determination.“No,” she choked out, turning her face away from me as her body shook with quiet sobs. “I don’t want to do it anymore,” she added, her small hands pressing against my chest in an attempt to push me away.My chest tightened at her words. She wasn’t just in pain—she was terrified, vulnerable, and br
*Arlene*The room felt heavy with anticipation, the air almost stifling as I paced back and forth, trying to calm the storm of emotions surging through me. My heart pounded against my ribcage, loud and unrelenting. From the moment Mago and I decided today would be the day we finally consummate our marriage, I had been a trembling mess. It sounded simple—dinner first, then intimacy—but nothing about this felt simple.I’d already taken three baths since 2 p.m., unable to decide on the perfect perfume to wear. My bed was a chaotic sea of discarded lingerie, each one scrutinized before being rejected. Eventually, I settled on a red lace strapless set—seductive yet classy—hidden beneath a black Venetian-cut ballgown.“Should I wear makeup?” I’d asked Janine earlier, my voice trembling with nerves. “Or would it just smudge off anyway?”“You’re clueless,” she teased wi
*Mago*Marco’s office was alive with the usual energy—cigar smoke curling in the air, beer bottles clinking on the wooden table, and the sound of good-natured ribbing echoing off the walls. It was our sacred space, a haven where we could tackle life’s heavier problems and then lighten the mood with relentless teasing. Tonight, we’d gathered to lend support to Angelo, who looked more stressed than I’d ever seen him.Angelo leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, absently spinning his beer bottle. “Thanks for coming, guys. I need this.”Marco waved him off. “You don’t need to thank us. We’re your brothers. What’s going on?”Angelo exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “It’s Cerise. She’s been… struggling. She’s got a lot of doubts about us, and it’s hard to get through to her.”Stuart frowned. “Doubts? Like what?”
*Arlene*I marched into Janine’s mansion, nerves tying my stomach into knots. Stuart had just proposed to Patricia, and now my own marriage to Mago was on a fast track to… consummation. Even the word made my chest tighten. I was desperate for advice and moral support.“The ladies are waiting for you in the entertainment room, ma’am,” the butler informed me with a polite nod.“Thanks,” I said, already making my way there. I didn’t need directions—I knew this house like the back of my hand.As soon as I entered, Janine waved at me from the oversized couch. “Budz! You look stressed. Sit down and spill.”I collapsed onto the couch with a sigh. “I need help. Like, serious help.”Patricia raised a perfectly arched brow. “Wait, you haven’t done it yet, have you?”“Not yet,” I admitted, covering my face. &ldqu
*Mago*I don’t know what came over me when I stopped by the jeweler where our wedding rings were made a year ago. Back then, I had been a fool—a man blinded by love and hope. I thought Arlene was my fresh start, the one who could heal the wounds of my past. What I didn’t realize was that she would be the one to rip those wounds open, exposing every scar I’d tried to bury.“Wear this,” I said as I handed her the ring, my expression blank, and explained, “Naina asked about the rings earlier. So, I decided we should have them.”Her lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile crossing her face. It wasn’t just a smile—it was hope. Quiet, stubborn, dangerous hope.“Don’t read too much into it,” I added, my voice sharp enough to sever any illusions. “This is just to keep Naina from asking questions. That’s all.”She said nothing, just quietly s
*Arlene*I spent the entire day alone in the house. Mago had taken Naina to the doctor, explaining briefly that she had fainted when she saw him at the cemetery, and he wanted to make sure she was okay. The house felt empty and unnervingly quiet, but I used the time to follow through with our agreement.I moved my things into Mago’s room—a task I’d been both dreading and looking forward to. Each trip felt like I was intruding on his space, yet claiming it at the same time. This was what I wanted, after all.As agreed, I began removing the pictures I had hung around his room. Pictures of me. Carefully chosen, perfectly staged, deliberately seductive. Each image had been placed with one goal in mind: to break through Mago’s walls and remind him that I wasn’t just his wife on paper—I was a woman who wanted him.Now, as I removed them one by one, I couldn’t help but feel a small, amused triumph. He ha
*Arlene*“Naina, this is Arlene, my wife,” Mago said, his voice calm, almost detached.The words still felt foreign coming from him, but a small flicker of happiness warmed my chest. He had introduced me as his wife. He could have easily avoided it, brushed it aside, or simply said my name. But he didn’t.Naina’s face lit up as she turned to me, her eyes warm and curious. “I am so happy to finally meet you, Mrs. Concepcion.”“Just call me Arlene,” I said quickly, feeling a twinge of awkwardness at the title.“Well then, it’s nice to meet you, Arlene. Have you eaten breakfast yet?” she asked kindly, her motherly tone softening the edges of the tension I carried.“We haven’t,” Mago replied before I could.“Well, I’ll prepare breakfast for you,” Naina offered, already moving toward the kitchen. “Would you like me t
*Arlene*I woke to the weight of Mago’s body against mine, his arm draped over my waist, his leg tangled with mine. His steady breaths warmed the back of my neck, and I felt his chest rise and fall in rhythm against me. For a moment, I didn’t move, savoring the rare closeness. My heart hammered, caught between joy and anxiety.I glanced down, relieved and oddly disappointed to see that I was still fully clothed in the same outfit from last night. Nothing had happened. But this—waking up in his arms—was still more than I’d dared to hope for. How long had it been since I’d felt his warmth like this? Since I’d been trapped, willingly, in his embrace?I didn’t want to lose this moment, so I stayed still, pretending to sleep. I knew this was fragile, temporary. I wasn’t sure it would ever happen again.Minutes passed, and then I felt him stir. His hand flexed on my waist, and instead of pul