Contract Marriage after a One Night Stand

Ysla

My head is aching. A deep, throbbing pain pulsed in my temples, and the world around me seemed to spin as I slowly forced my eyes open. A sharp sting shot through my skull, making me wince as the morning light seeped through the gap in the heavy curtains.

It was morning.

I struggled to sit up, my vision adjusting to the unfamiliar room around me. It was vast and lavish, yet void of anything that could give me a clue about its owner. My chest tightened with unease. How did I get here? Why did I feel like a stranger in my own body?

I blinked and turned my gaze to the large bed I had woken up in. The sheets were a mess, clear evidence that I had not been alone last night.

A shiver ran down my spine as I gripped the white comforter around me. The cool morning air kissed my bare skin, my naked skin.

Panic surged through me.

My hands trembled as I ran them over my body, confirming what I already feared. I had nothing on.

A cold dread spread through me, draining the blood from my face. My breathing grew uneven as fragments of the previous night resurfaced in my mind. My heart pounded wildly against my ribs when my eyes landed on a crimson stain marring the pristine white sheets.

Proof.

I had given away the one thing I had vowed to keep. The gift I had saved for my fiancé meant being offered on our wedding night.

A lump formed in my throat. I bit my lip, willing myself not to break down, but my body betrayed me. My hand flew to my mouth to muffle the sob that threatened to escape. No. This couldn't be happening.

Then, anger flared within me, burning away the sorrow. The betrayal of Arnold, the man I had dreamed of spending my life with, and my cousin, Lizbeth, came crashing back with brutal clarity. Their deception had sliced through me like a dagger, leaving wounds that still bled with fresh agony.

I couldn't stay here.

Despite the weakness in my limbs and the dizziness in my head, I forced myself to move. I hastily gathered my scattered clothes from the floor, pieces of fabric that felt so foreign now. But before I could slip into any of them, an eerie silence settled over the room.

I froze.

I straightened my senses on high alert.

What was that? Why did everything suddenly feel so still?

My question was answered when the bathroom door creaked open. The sound of running water ceased, something I hadn't noticed in my turmoil.

My breath hitched.

It was too late to run. Too late to hide. I had no cover, no escape. My mind raced as I grabbed the comforter from the bed and wrapped it tightly around myself. But a deep, steady voice shattered the silence before I could secure it properly.

"You're awake."

I looked up, and that was when I saw him.

A tall, broad-shouldered man stood by the bathroom door, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Droplets of water clung to his toned skin, tracing a path down his sculpted chest over the ridges of his defined abs.

I tore my gaze away, my throat dry.

"Uh... I'll just get dressed and leave," I muttered, my voice unsteady.

He studied me, his expression unreadable. But instead of relief or indifference, something else flickered in his eyes. Something that unsettled me.

"Just like that?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

I blinked. "W-What do you mean?"

"After what happened last night, you're just going to leave?"

A fresh wave of anxiety coursed through me. Something about this situation felt... wrong. Why did he sound like he was the one being wronged?

"You don't expect me to take responsibility for you, do you?" I shot back, forcing steel into my voice. "I'm sorry, but I'm not in the position to care for a man right now. I'm unemployed and was merely a helper to my cousin."

I had hoped my words would lighten the tension, maybe even amuse him. But instead of laughter, his frown deepened.

Before I realized it, he had moved closer to the bed.

I instinctively stepped back, though the mattress still separated us. His presence was overwhelming, like an approaching storm, powerful and unstoppable.

Only now did I grasp his sheer size. He wasn't just tall and built like a fortress, his frame exuding raw strength. His broad shoulders looked like they could bear the weight of the world itself. Under different circumstances, I might have been awestruck by the sheer force of his presence.

But this was not the time to admire a stranger.

He reached for the phone on the bedside table and made a quick call.

"I need a cleaner."

That was all he said before ending the call. Then, he turned to me, his expression still hard.

"A cleaner will be here soon. Go to the bathroom and freshen up. We'll talk over breakfast," he said.

His words weren't a suggestion nor a request. They were a command.

I pressed my lips together. Did he actually think I would just obey him?

"Don't make me repeat myself, woman."

I swallowed hard. His voice held an underlying edge, a warning. "Or do you want to watch me while I get dressed?"

When he reached for the towel at his waist, I bolted, nearly tripping as I dashed into the bathroom and didn't dare look back.

My heart pounded furiously as I pressed my back against the bathroom door.

Questions swirled in my mind.

Who was he?

What had happened last night?

How did I actually get here?

And most importantly, was my fiancé Arnold even looking for me? Or was he too busy in the arms of my treacherous cousin?

I shook my head and decided to go under the shower, thinking it would help me calm and think.

Ysla

The moment the icy water touched my skin, my consciousness fully awakened, and like an unstoppable current, the memories of last night came rushing in. Every detail replayed in my mind, the very events that led me to wake up in the unfamiliar room of a stranger who was, at this moment, standing just outside the bathroom.

I was supposed to marry Arnold in just a week. As a gift, my uncle suggested that we take a vacation with our friends to celebrate the upcoming wedding.

When they said "friends," of course, that included my cousin Lizbeth, his daughter.

I had no objections. Lizbeth and I had been close since childhood, and her family practically raised me as their own.

So, we traveled to a resort in Batangas, where we celebrated my last days as Arnold's fiancée. It was supposed to be a time of pure joy, a moment to cherish before we stepped into married life.

I had a few drinks. I wasn't used to alcohol, so it didn't take long for me to feel dizzy. But I remembered that Arnold had been with me when we entered a room together. I was sure of it, and he lay beside me in bed.

I didn't know how much time had passed, but I was certain I hadn't fully fallen asleep when startled by an odd sensation. My body felt incredibly warm, my throat parched as if I were unbearably thirsty. It was an unfamiliar kind of need, one I couldn't quite understand.

I reached beside me, realizing that Arnold was no longer there. Even in my dazed, intoxicated state, concern pushed me to sit up. My vision swayed as I struggled to stand, my body still reeling from the effects of alcohol.

I needed to find him.

I staggered out of the room, my feet barely steady, but just as I was about to step into the hallway, a sound stopped me in my tracks.

A moan.

It came from the room to my left.

That was supposed to be our room.

My heartbeat quickened. My head was still clouded, but I forced my steps forward, stopping just outside the door. It was slightly ajar, and despite my hesitation, I took another step closer.

"Nold... ahh... Yes, right there... lick me more..."

Lizbeth.

I knew that voice anywhere. My cousin. My own blood. But why... Why was she calling Arnold's name?

My pulse pounded in my ears. My hand trembled as I reached for the door, intending to push it open. But before I could move, another voice stopped me.

"Shh... keep it down. You don't want Ysla waking up."

Arnold.

My breath hitched. My chest tightened painfully as my world began to shatter around me.

"How can I be quiet when you're so good at this?" Lizbeth's voice dripped with pleasure. "You're incredible at making me feel so, so good."

A wave of nausea hit me.

I was hurt and couldn't believe I would hear them talking like that. I wanted to burst in, confront them, and scream at them both. But then, Arnold spoke again, and his next words drove a dagger straight through my heart.

"Do you think I can have a turn with Ysla later? I haven't even tasted her yet." I felt a chill run down my spine. How could he say such things? He'd been my boyfriend for three years and had been the only man I would want to offer my purity to.

Lizbeth scoffed. "You're mine, Arnold. You belong to me."

"Of course, I'm yours." Arnold chuckled. "But you know how frustrating it is. She's so uptight, making me wait until the wedding. She won't even spread her legs for me. It's exhausting."

Lizbeth laughed, the sound venomous. "She wants you to be obsessed with her."

"Too bad for her, I'm already addicted to you," Arnold murmured.

"Exactly. That's why you don't need to think about her anymore. Besides, she'll be ruined beyond repair once our men arrive to do their job."

The breath in my lungs vanished. My entire body froze in place.

What...?

"Why do I even have to marry her after that?" Arnold grumbled.

"Just follow my father's plan. You know this is all for you. You're the one who'll inherit our business."

"So, I get to marry a woman who will be used by four men before the wedding? What a joke."

"Stop whining. She needs to act like she's enjoying it. That's why I added a little stimulant to her drink earlier, plus a small dose of sleeping pills."

I clamped a hand over my mouth. My tears streamed down uncontrollably. I had trusted them. Loved them. And yet, they had been planning this all along?

"Just come back to bed, Arnold," Lizbeth purred. "The men might arrive soon, and we must be at the bar with our friends to have alibis."

"Fine. Spread your legs for me."

And then... more moans.

Disgust churned in my stomach. My blood boiled, yet my limbs felt frozen in place.

I had to get out of here.

I wasn't going to let their plan succeed.

I forced myself to move, stepping backward carefully, my pulse racing. I turned, spotting the open door of the cottage.

They were so careless. They were so confident in their evil plan that they hadn't even locked the door.

My body burned, an unnatural heat spreading through my veins. My head swam, the effects of whatever Lizbeth had given me still taking hold. But I fought it.

I had to escape.

I pushed forward, stumbling away from the cottage, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The night air did little to cool my overheating body, and just as I turned a corner-

I collided with something solid.

No, it was someone.

I barely registered the firm chest, his skin's heat, and his arms' strength as he caught me.

A man.

A stranger.

And then, the memory of the conversation with the people I love resurfaced like a bolt of lightning.

Lizbeth.

This was all her fault.

Because of what she put in my drink...

I kissed the man and ended up in this place, where I woke up and was waited by that stranger to finish cleaning up myself.

Ysla

"Sign this."

The man's voice was cold and firm as he handed me a piece of paper and placed a pen on the small table beside it. I had just finished cleaning myself up and changing clothes, yet here I was, sitting face-to-face with the stranger who had, by accident, become the first man to claim my body.

"What is this?" I asked, not even bothering to glance at the document.

"You'll know if you look at it." There was a hint of irritation in his tone as if he was the one who had been wronged. Were men really this shameless nowadays?

"I don't want to," I said firmly. If he thought I would simply obey him, he was gravely mistaken.

His sharp eyes bore into mine before he slowly raised a remote control and pointed it at the television behind me. With just one press of a button, the screen came to life, but I refused to turn around.

"Ohh... touch me, please. Don't stop..."

My eyes widened at the sound of that voice. A voice so familiar, yet so shocking.

It was mine.

A wave of cold dread washed over me as I whipped my head towards the TV. Displayed on the screen was a video of me, completely bare, eyes closed in pleasure, lying beneath the very man sitting before me.

"How dare you!" I shouted, my voice trembling with anger. But the man holding the remote remained unfazed, his expression unreadable.

"Read." He paused the video and gestured toward the document on the table.

I had no choice but to pick it up, my hands shaking as I scanned the contents.

Marriage Agreement.

"What kind of nonsense is this?" I demanded, pointing at the heading.

"I said, read. I don't like explaining things, so just understand it yourself. Everything you need to know is in there. And once you're done reading, sign it." His tone left no room for negotiation. Did he really think he could just dictate my life like this?

Fuming, I did as he said, skimming the document with my eyes. With every sentence I read, my frustration grew.

Just last night, I discovered my cousin and fiancé's betrayal, the people I trusted most. After that painful revelation, I had lost something even more precious, my innocence to a stranger, the very man sitting before me now.

And now, upon waking up, I was being forced into marriage with him, all to prevent the release of a scandalous video.

How foolish was I? I had run away from one nightmare only to fall into another.

I didn't want to marry a man I didn't love. But what choice did I have?

My grip on the paper tightened, nearly crumpling it in my frustration. Yet the presence of the man, casually seated on the couch, was a glaring reminder that I had no other option.

"Erase the video," I demanded. I needed assurance that it wouldn't be leaked. My face was clear as day in that footage. I still couldn't believe that the voice I had heard was my own.

"Sign that, along with our marriage contract. Then I'll delete it." His voice was firm, an ultimatum rather than a request. He wasn't giving me any wiggle room. He wanted absolute control.

I hesitated, staring at the pen before reluctantly picking it up. In the end, I signed the agreement, feeling every ounce of defiance drain from my body.

The contract itself wasn't overly complicated. There was no need to announce our marriage to the public, except to his grandmother. However, since we were legally bound, we were required to live under the same roof.

"Come in," the man suddenly said, his phone pressed to his ear. I hadn't even noticed that it had rung or that he had called someone.

He pressed another button on the remote, turning off the TV just as a knock sounded at the door. Another man entered, carrying a brown envelope. He placed it on the table before silently exiting the room.

"Fill out all the necessary details and sign. Make sure everything is accurate because I don't want any legal complications," he instructed.

I picked up the envelope and took out the documents inside. Marriage application forms and other legal paperwork were all meant for one purpose.

To make me this man's wife.

I began filling them out, suppressing the anger and fear curling in my chest. Once done, I slammed the pen onto the table, shooting him a glare.

The papers did not include information about him, yet mine was detailed from top to bottom. The entire situation felt grossly unfair.

He remained silent as he took the documents and signed them as well. Then, he made a call. Moments later, another knock was heard, and the man with the envelope returned.

"Here. Make sure everything is finalized by Monday."

"Yes, Sir." The other man responded curtly before leaving again.

By Monday? It was only Saturday! He made decisions this fast? He must be insane!

I stared at him, utterly bewildered. He met my gaze head-on, not flinching in the slightest against the storm of emotions in my eyes.

"I'm Nathan Del Antonio," he said, his tone devoid of warmth.

My brows furrowed. Where had I heard that name before? It sounded familiar...

"Since you agreed, I don't want to see you talking to other men," he continued.

"Wait a minute. Before you start laying down rules, shouldn't you delete what needs to be deleted first?" I shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He paused for a moment before pressing something on his phone and handing it to me.

"Delete it yourself."

I snatched the phone and searched for the video. In just a few seconds, I found the incriminating file.

A part of me wanted to watch it, to see what else I had done and said in my moment of weakness. But in one swift motion, I pressed the delete button.

What I had already seen and heard was enough. I couldn't bear to relive it any further.

Taking a deep breath, I placed the phone back on the table. I tried to convince myself that this ordeal was over, but I knew the truth deep down.

This nightmare was only beginning.

I turned my gaze back to Nathan Del Antonio, my supposed husband.

Where had I heard that name before?