🌿 Damien 🌿
"Please, Sir… don't say anything rude. They might owe you money, but we still need their help."
Valdivia's voice was soft, careful—like she was trying not to trigger a bomb sitting right beside her.
"Let me do the talking," Patrick added with an easy chuckle.
I said nothing. I didn't need to.
The car slowed… then stopped.
A small house.
Too small. Too normal.
My chest tightened for reasons I didn't like.
"Relax," Patrick murmured, squeezing my shoulder like I was the one being dramatic. "We'll be quick."
"I can wait in the car," I muttered.
"No," he said firmly. "You're coming."
Of course I was.
I stepped out. The air felt heavier here—like something was waiting to happen.
The bell rang.
The door opened.
And I immediately hated the woman standing there.
She looked like she could end lives politely.
"Valdivia?" she asked.
"Nice to see you too, Elvira," Via replied dryly. "Can we come in?"
We were allowed inside.
Big mistake.
The living room was small but too neat—like someone tried to hide chaos under furniture polish.
"Good evening, sirs," a pregnant woman greeted.
I didn't answer. I sat.
The older man cleared his throat.
"You must be Damien Petersen."
I didn't react.
Names meant nothing.
Until they owed me something.
Then everything meant something.
"Let's skip introductions," I said coldly. "Show me the girl."
Silence.
Then Patrick spoke.
And everything shifted.
Debt? Cover-up? Fake fiancée? Three years contract? Marriage clause?
I barely listened until one thing mattered.
A name.
"Alisa."
The room exploded.
"ALISA?!"
I frowned.
What the hell was wrong with that name?
"She won't agree," someone muttered.
"I'll add ten million dollars," Patrick said calmly.
The room froze.
I lost patience.
"I don't care what she agrees to. Just bring her."
Then—
A scream.
A loud, chaotic, completely unhinged scream.
"I FOUND MY CERTIFICATEEEEE!"
What. The. Hell.
A girl ran in like a storm wearing clothes that looked like they lost a fight with a blender. Hair everywhere. Energy unstable. Eyes bright like she hadn't slept in days—or cared.
And somehow… she was smiling like she owned the world.
"I studied hotel management!" she announced proudly, waving paper like a trophy.
She stopped. Looked at everyone.
Then looked at me.
"…Do I know you?"
Silence.
My headache started immediately.
"Alisa," someone said carefully.
She squealed.
"BALD HEAD MAN!"
She ran to Cole like he was a celebrity.
Then she pointed at me.
"And who's this grumpy mole?"
I stared at her.
She tilted her head.
"Are you always this sick-looking or is today special?"
Something inside me snapped.
But before I could speak—
She brought me water.
Normal. Too normal.
Suspiciously normal.
"I didn't poison it," she said, then drank it herself. "See? Safe."
…
I blinked.
No one notices when I'm about to collapse.
No one.
Except Patrick.
And now… this disaster in human form.
I hated that I noticed.
I hated even more that I didn't stop looking.
"Explain again," she said blankly after everything.
We did.
Twice.
She still didn't understand.
"…So I act like his fake fiancée like in dramas?"
"Yes," Patrick said hopefully.
"Okay," she said immediately.
Everyone froze.
"…That was too easy," I muttered.
She turned to me.
"I'll help. But you're buying the house and paying the money."
"Done," Patrick said instantly.
Then she looked at me again.
"Also… don't touch me. You look like you bite people emotionally."
I exhaled sharply.
"I don't even want to breathe the same air as you."
She smiled sweetly.
"And yet here you are, Mr Depression."
I walked out before I did something irreversible.
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🌻 Alisa 🌻
He was terrifying.
Not normal scary.
Not angry scary.
The kind of scary that felt like silence right before something breaks.
But I still said yes.
Because I had to.
Because I wanted to prove I wasn't useless.
Because maybe… just maybe… I could finally matter.
"I'll do it," I told them.
Mom exploded the second they left.
"You? A fake fiancée? Do you want to embarrass this family completely?!"
Her words cut deeper than they should.
"I can do it," I whispered.
"No, you can't."
My chest tightened.
"I can."
But no one was listening.
Not really.
Because all I could think about was something else.
The man outside.
Damien.
And the way his eyes looked at me like I was either a mistake…
Or a problem he hadn't decided how to solve yet.
Later, I locked myself in my room.
"I don't want to go back there," I whispered to myself. "Lieutenant Levi is worse… Damien is scary… but maybe different scary…"
A knock.
Kiki.
She hugged me before I could fall apart completely.
"You're safe," she whispered.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
But even as I held onto her words…
I didn't feel safe.
Not even a little.
Because tomorrow wasn't just coming.
It was coming for me.