The sky was arrogant—bright, cloudless, and blue like it knew it was the center of everything today.
A perfect day for spectacle.
I tightened the gloves on my fingers and stared ahead, chin high, heels clicking steadily against the gravel path as i made my way to the stables.
I didn't greet anyone.
Didn't wave.
I was there to win, not entertain.
My name—Aurora Ysabelle Zobel—was printed on every banner, whispered in every crowd.
Sa paligid, puro socialite, investors, business partners ng parents ko. But i didn't care.
Hindi ko kailangan ng cheering squad.
All i needed was the rhythm of the horse, the feel of the reins, and silence.
"Aurora," said Louis, catching up to me. He looked breathless, as always. "Your mom and dad are in the VIP stands. Front row."
"Good for them," I said without pausing.
"You look terrifying today."
"Perfect," I replied. "No distractions."
My parents didn't care about riding.
They cared about winning.
Kasi today's event?
It wasn't just for sport.
It was for image.
Legacy. Zobel-level domination.
And i always delivered.
Even if my name wasn't Montemayor.
Not really.
Calix arrived late.
Of course he did.
I saw him from the far side of the paddock—navy blazer, open collar, no tie. As if the world owed him comfort and style at the same time. His aviators glinted under the sun. He looked like power, on vacation.
"Supportive husband" daw.
As if we were anything close to that.
He stood beside my parents. Kissed my mom's cheek like he was their golden boy. I watched him slip into the role like a glove—perfect son-in-law, investor magnet, CEO alpha with a charming smirk.
Gross.
I mounted my horse—Artemis, my black mare with a temper almost as violent as mine.
We were made for each other.
The announcer's voice rang across the field, but i tuned it out. Focused only on the gate, the course, and the timer.
I didn't wave to the cameras. I didn't smile.
When the buzzer went off, I flew.
Jumps blurred.
Wind screamed past my face.
My thighs burned from the tension of control. My gloves cut into my fingers as i tightened on the reins.
But Artemis moved like a bullet.
Smooth. Precise. Angry.
Just like i trained her.
And we landed the final jump with a grace that felt like a slap to every competitor watching.
Applause erupted. Wild. Loud.
But i didn't smile.
I dismounted with the same cold expression.
Flashbulbs exploded the moment i stepped down from the podium.
The smell of horses, sweat, and expensive leather filled the air—mixed with the intoxicating rush of victory.
The gold medal hung around my neck like a well-earned necklace of silence. Wala akong ngiti. No thank-you gestures. No tears.
Just stillness.
I raised my chin.
Let them take their pictures.
Let them wonder how someone could win and still look like she didn't give a damn.
"Ma'am Aurora, picture with the team po!"
I nodded once.
Mechanical.
Obligatory.
The riding coach stood proudly beside me.
The groom held my helmet like a trophy.
My mare, Andromeda, neighed softly behind me, as if she knew what we just did.
Of course she knew.
That was why i chose her.
She never needed praise to perform.
Just purpose.
Just like me.
Calix stood a few meters away.
Looking like the sun chose to hit him at the perfect angle—navy suit, no tie, top button undone, leaning against the railing like a prince pretending he wasn't watching.
But he was watching.
Everyone was.
My parents were clapping politely from the VIP box. My mother's diamonds caught the light, and my father's stoic nod was barely visible beneath his sunglasses.
I didn't need their validation.
But i wasn't blind.
Their presence meant only one thing.
Investors.
This wasn't just a competition. It was a goddamn auction.
And i was the prize horse that just tripled her value.
"Aurora."
Calix's voice was low, smooth, close enough to brush against my ear as i walked past the press barricade.
I didn't stop.
He caught up in two strides. "You were flawless."
"I know."
"Tingin ka sa akin."
I paused.
Turned slowly.
And there it was—the glint in his eye. That mix of admiration and… something else. Something darker. Something primal.
He reached out, brushed a stray lock of hair from my cheek like we were in a teleserye.
I didn't flinch. But I didn't lean in either.
"You're not going to say thank you?" he said, smiling like a man who'd just bought a kingdom.
"For what?" I asked, voice dry. "For showing up late or for pretending to care in front of the cameras?"
"Careful," he said, still smiling. "People are watching."
"Let them."
And then—he kissed me.
Not the polite, press-friendly kind.
No.
This was a performance. An assault.
His hand slipped to my waist, his mouth claimed mine like a brand, like a warning.
My hands stayed at my sides.
My eyes remained open.
Because this wasn't love.
It was war disguised in lust.
And i would not be the first one to blink.
A hundred cameras captured it.
A thousand heart emojis would be posted within minutes.
Headlines would read: "Power Couple Reigns Supreme—Aurora and Calix Seal Victory with Passionate Kiss."
Let them write their fiction.
I had my own.
Back inside the tent, I peeled off my gloves slowly, one finger at a time.
My assistant, Celine, hovered nervously. "Ma'am, your mom said to expect the board tonight. Dinner sa Forbes. Investors from Macau and Singapore. Very important."
"Every dinner's important," I muttered, slipping out of my riding boots.
"Sir Calix said he'll meet you there."
"Did he now."
I sat, legs crossed, expression unreadable, while stylists started working on me.
"Red or black, ma'am?" someone asked, holding two dresses.
I looked at both. Then pointed to neither.
"White," I said. "I want to look untouchable."
Dinner was as dull as expected.
Crystal chandeliers.
Gold-edged menus.
Men in suits discussing numbers like mistresses.
Women dripping in brands, pretending they weren't bored out of their skulls.
I sat between two investors—one from Singapore, the other from Makati, which frankly made no difference.
I nodded when appropriate.
Sipped my wine like poison.
Laughed once—not because something was funny, but because silence would've been worse.
Calix sat across me, talking to my father like they were old friends.
Fake.
Everything was fake.
I felt the weight of his eyes on me again. I didn't give him the satisfaction of looking back.
Not yet.
I stepped out to the terrace for air.
Moonlight danced on the marble, my heels echoing like bullets.
"Aurora."
Of course.
Calix followed. He always does.
He leaned against the balustrade, lit a cigarette, and offered one to me.
"I don't smoke."
"You used to."
I looked at him coldly. "I used to do a lot of things."
He exhaled, slow. "Why won't you just let people believe we're happy?"
"Because we're not."
"But they don't need to know that."
I stepped closer. My voice was a blade.
"Maybe i'm tired of protecting your image."
He chuckled. "No one's protecting anyone, babe. We're both monsters. Yours just wears pearls."
There was a pause.
Heavy. Suspended.
Then—his gaze hardened.
"You didn't flinch," he said suddenly.
"Huh?"
"Kanina. The kiss. You didn't flinch. Didn't react. Like a statue."
"I told you before, Calix," I said. "I feel nothing."
"Bullshit."
"No," I said, my voice quieter. "That's the most honest thing about me."
He stepped closer. Too close.
"I can make you feel."
"Don't flatter yourself."
"You're not made of stone."
"And you're not the man to prove otherwise."
His jaw tensed. My pulse didn't.
We stood there, inches apart. The air between us thick with everything unsaid.
He wanted a reaction.
I gave him none.
And when i walked away, heels clicking like a countdown, I didn't look back.