Charlene had just stepped off the bus when her friend Sheena called. She answered at once.

“Are you already in Manila?” her friend asked excitedly.

“Yes. I just got off. Wait—I’m still hungry. I’ll grab something to eat first.”

She wandered around the terminal until she found a vendor selling balut. She bought four pieces and asked for directions to her next ride. Being new to Manila, she didn’t yet know her way around. Charlene was a provincial girl who had come to the city in search of better opportunities, knowing that work in the countryside was painfully limited.

“Your first priority is to find a place to stay,” Sheena reminded her. “There are lots of rooms for rent, but be careful. Once they realize you’re new here, they’ll try to overcharge you.”

“I will. I’ll look for something within my budget,” Charlene replied as she stood up to throw away the shells of the balut she had eaten.

She walked around for nearly half an hour, but still couldn’t find a place she could afford.

Fatigue and hunger were starting to creep in, but she forced herself to endure it. The little money left in her wallet had to be saved for rent—she couldn’t waste it on food.

“What? You still haven’t found anything?” her cousin asked over the phone.

“Not yet. I’m already tired from walking,” Charlene complained as she crossed the street.

“Why don’t you take a break first?” Sheena suggested.

“I can still manage. Besides, it’s getting dark. I might end up sleeping outside,” she joked.

“I’m close by—ah, shoot!”

Her playful tone turned into a startled cry as she was suddenly knocked down in the middle of the road, nearly hit by a car. Irritated, Charlene quickly stood up and stormed toward the vehicle that had screeched to a stop in front of her.

“Hey! Are you trying to kill me?! Don’t you know how to drive?! What—are you going to pay for my funeral if you run me over?!” she shouted angrily.

A moment later, the car door opened and a tall, well-built man stepped out, dressed so sharply he looked like he owned the street itself.

“Miss… you were the one who wasn’t watching where you were going,” he said coldly, removing his sunglasses. “This is a road, and you crossed while using your phone. Are you insane?”

“So now it’s my fault?” Charlene snapped. “With that attitude of yours, don’t your parents teach you any manners?!”

The man could only shake his head. To him, Charlene looked like one of those people who deliberately got hit just to extort money from the rich—especially since he was the CEO of one of the most famous clothing brands in the country.

“Tell me what you want,” he said impatiently. “Money?”

That was the last thing Charlene wanted to hear.

“Do I look like I need your money?!” she shot back, ignoring the growing crowd that had started watching them argue in the middle of the street.

The man was about to respond when his phone rang. He answered quickly.

“I’ll be there in a minute. I just ran into a small problem,” he said before ending the call. He pulled out a business card and pressed it into Charlene’s hand.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Call my secretary if you need anything, miss. I have to go—”

“Wait! You haven’t even apologized!”

“Stop wasting my time. I have a meeting to attend.”

“I don’t care about your meetings! You almost killed me! My leg and my backside hurt from that fall, you know!”

The man took a deep, irritated breath and opened the car door.

“Fine. I’ll take you to the hospital. Now get in. You’re wasting too much of my time.”

Charlene immediately shook her head.

“No! Who knows where you might take me? That face of yours doesn’t exactly look trustworthy!”

“What—just… get in, miss,” he ordered sharply.

But when Charlene still refused, he had no choice but to lift her and place her inside the car himself before locking the door.

“Hey! Let me out! What are you doing?!”

“Be quiet! You’re wasting my time!”

“If you’re planning to kidnap me, I’m telling you now—no one will pay a ransom! My family is poor! We live in a small house in the province!”

“Quiet. I don’t care who you are,” he said coldly as he started the engine. “If you’re in pain, I’m taking you to the hospital. So be quiet—or I’ll throw you out of the car window.”

The mysterious man left Charlene at the large hospital, and she never saw him again after that. The air outside was cold, brushing lightly against her face as she walked out through the emergency entrance. The nurses had attended to her, following the man’s instructions.

“Ma’am, none of your bones are broken, so you can relax now,” the nurse said with a smile after Charlene had spent a long time complaining about the pain. Her eyes were almost closing from exhaustion and irritation.

“Are you sure? It still hurts a little…” Charlene said, trying to suppress a groan.

“Ma’am, what would be the point of me being a nurse if I wasn’t sure?” the woman replied, clearly close to losing her patience. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No. Thank you,” Charlene answered softly, lowering her head as she leaned against the wall.

“You’re welcome,” the nurse said before walking away.

After a while, Charlene decided to leave the hospital and continue her search for work—or at least for a place to stay. But night had already fallen, and nothing had changed. The streetlights flickered, casting faint light over the dark streets. Her stomach ached with hunger, but she couldn’t afford to spend the little money she had left. It was reserved for rent—if she ever found a place.

Exhausted, she sat down in front of a large restaurant and closed her eyes, letting the warm, delicious scent of food surround her. She could almost taste the fresh bread, grilled meat, and rich spices drifting out from inside. Her mouth watered, but all she could do was endure the hunger and stop herself from buying even a small dish.

She slipped her hands into the pockets of her thick jacket as the cold slowly crept into her body. Her fingers brushed against something. When she pulled it out, she found the business card given to her by the man who had almost run her over earlier.

She remembered that she could call him if she needed anything—but then she realized she had no phone credit left. Annoyed, she put the card back into her pocket and lowered her head. It felt as though Manila itself was rejecting her. She never imagined it would be this hard to find a place to live or a job when you had no connections, especially in a city overflowing with people and endless hurry.

Across the street, Mr. Kerill Wang and his family were having dinner in the very restaurant in front of which Charlene was sitting. Warm lights reflected off wine glasses and silverware. With him were his younger brother, Lander; their father, Winito Wang; and their grandfather, Mr. Win, who had just arrived from the United States and invited them all out for dinner.

“How’s your business, Kerill?” Mr. Win asked, adjusting the cuff of his jacket as he watched his grandson eat in silence.

Kerill lifted his gaze and took a sip of water before replying. “We’re doing just fine, Mr. Win.”

“But I heard your sales dropped by one percent because of a rival brand’s new design,” the old man said sharply. “You do realize how big one percent is in your company’s ranking, don’t you?”

“Dad—” Winito tried to interrupt, but one look from Mr. Win silenced him.

“You need to learn where you failed, kid. Being at the top doesn’t last forever.”

“I know,” Kerill replied, his voice calm, though tension tightened his chest.

Silence followed, broken only by the clink of cutlery. Lander, who was already used to these tense family dinners, looked bored.

“Oh, right,” Mr. Win said suddenly. “You’re turning thirty this month. When are you planning to get married?”

“That’s not on my list,” Kerill answered flatly as he cut into his steak.

“Oh no, it has to be. Your children are growing up. They need a mother—”

“I’m here. I’m enough to raise them,” Kerill said firmly. “I have no plans to get married.”

“But I do—” Mr. Win cut in.

“I know many people in the U.S.,” he continued. “I’ve met their granddaughters. I think you’ll like them once you—”

“Dad, let him—”

“Enough, Winito,” Mr. Win snapped. “You’re too soft on him. Look at him now—he’ll grow old alone.”

“I don’t need a wife—”

“But your children need a mother,” Mr. Win said, making Kerill freeze. “You know how it feels to grow up without one. Do you want the same for your kids? Or are you still hoping Monica will come back?”

Kerill’s fists clenched at the mention of the woman he once loved.

“She’s not coming back,” Mr. Win continued coldly. “You will marry one of the women I choose—or else—”

“Or else what?” Kerill shot back as he stood up. “You can’t decide who I marry. I’d rather marry someone who walks through that door than one of the women you choose for me. I’m not a child anymore!”

He stormed toward the exit, his entire body tense with anger.

But the moment he opened the door, a woman collapsed right in front of him. He caught her just in time, her body falling into his arms. Cold air brushed against his skin, while the warm scent of food from the restaurant surrounded them.

“Guess you have to marry that girl…” Mr. Win muttered behind him.

Slowly, the woman lifted her face—and cursed when she realized who he was. She was the same woman he had almost run over earlier. The one he had taken to the hospital.

Charlene.

“I’m hungry… food… I need food…” she murmured before losing consciousness, her weight sinking fully into Kerill’s arms.

White was the first thing Charlene saw when she slowly opened her eyes.

She blinked, trying to focus, but nothing around her felt familiar. The ceiling lights were bright and cold, reflecting off the polished floor and making her dizziness worse. She tried to sit up—but immediately clutched her head as the world began to spin.

“Ow…” she whispered, closing her eyes again as nausea washed over her.

A moment later, she looked around. The room was clean and quiet, filled with the sharp scent of medicine and antiseptic. An IV stand stood beside her bed, along with an oxygen tank and a softly blinking monitor. Medical charts and anatomy posters lined the walls.

She was in a hospital.

But how had she gotten here? And who had brought her?

Her heart began to race as unease crept in.

The door opened and a nurse entered, holding a clipboard. She walked over and checked Charlene’s vitals.

“What happened?” Charlene asked, confusion thick in her voice.

“You fainted, ma’am. Severe hunger and exhaustion,” the nurse explained gently. “Fortunately, Mr. Wang brought you here in time.”

Charlene’s eyes widened.

“Mr. Wang?”

“Yes. But don’t worry—you’re stable now and should be able to leave later today.”

“Oh… okay. Thank you,” Charlene replied, still uneasy.

After giving her a few reminders—drink water, don’t walk alone, don’t rush—the nurse left, and silence returned.

Her stomach growled loudly.

She was starving.

Just then, the door opened again.

A man in dark sunglasses entered, carrying several containers of food. He was dressed entirely in black, moving with precise, almost mechanical control.

“The food is here, miss,” he said coolly.

He set three dishes on the small table beside her. The aroma hit her instantly—steamed rice, grilled meat, and hot soup. Her senses came alive, hunger roaring through her body.

“Is… is this for me?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yes, miss.”

“I didn’t order this—and I don’t have money—”

“No payment is required. Mr. Wang ordered it. You are to eat. You will meet him later.”

“Mr. Wang?” Charlene frowned. “I don’t even know a Mr. Wang. Maybe you have the wrong room—”

“He will arrive shortly. Please eat.”

Too hungry to argue, Charlene ate. She barely realized she had finished nearly everything.

Then the door opened again.

Her eyes widened.

It was him—the man who had almost hit her with his car.

The air instantly grew tense.

“Are you done?” he asked, glancing at the empty plates.

“What are you doing here?!” Charlene snapped.

“That’s how you thank someone for saving your life?” he replied dryly.

“You brought me here?” she asked quietly.

“Obviously.”

He turned to his bodyguard, Edgar, who silently cleared the table and left.

The man stepped forward and extended his hand.

“My name is Kerill Wang. You may call me Mr. Wang.”

Charlene stared at his hand but didn’t take it.

“I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?” she repeated.

“Edgar. The papers.”

A contract was placed on the bed.

“Sign it. You will be my temporary wife for ninety days. All your expenses will be covered.”

Charlene’s eyes widened as she read.

“One million pesos?” she whispered.

“Be my fake wife.”

“Are you insane?!”

“Temporarily,” he said calmly. “Don’t make me beg.”

“You must be crazy,” she muttered, getting off the bed. “I’m leaving.”

“Charlene Rosarios. Born August 19, 1996. From Pasi, Iloilo.”

She froze.

“I know everything about you. Even your secrets.”

“You investigated me?!” she shouted.

“I need to know my fake wife.”

“Never! I’ll sue you!”

“Is a million not enough?”

“Keep it!” she snapped, storming out.

Kerill exhaled slowly, staring at the door.

“This won’t be the last time we meet,” he murmured.