The top floor of Ewa Montenegro's office building always felt like it didn't belong to normal people.
Glass walls. Silent staff. Air too expensive to feel real.
Ewa sat behind her desk, legs crossed, phone in one hand, expression unreadable.
"Ma'am, she's here," her assistant said through the intercom.
Ewa didn't even look up.
"Send her in."
The door opened.
Yvonne stepped inside.
She looked... out of place.
Not because she was poor, but because she didn't carry the same sharp, controlled energy everyone else in Ewa's world had.
Simple blouse. Nervous hands. Calm eyes that tried to stay steady anyway.
Ewa finally looked at her.
Slowly.
Like she was evaluating something she hadn't decided whether to trust yet.
"You're late," Ewa said.
Yvonne blinked. "Five minutes lang."
"Still late."
Awkward silence followed.
Yvonne cleared her throat. "So... about the offer—"
"You read the contract?"
"Yes."
"Then you know what you're agreeing to."
Yvonne nodded.
Fake wife. Fake mother figure. Public appearances. No emotional attachment.
Simple on paper.
Impossible in reality.
Ewa stood and walked closer.
Yvonne didn't step back.
Interesting.
"You need money," Ewa said flatly.
Yvonne stiffened slightly. "...Yes."
"For your mother's surgery."
Another pause.
"...Yes."
Ewa studied her reaction carefully. No hesitation. No pride. Just truth she didn't try to hide.
"Good," Ewa said. "Because I don't do emotional complications."
Yvonne swallowed. "...Hindi naman ako komplikado." (I'm not that complicated.)
Ewa gave a faint smirk. "That's what everyone says before they become one."
The house was too big.
Too quiet.
Too perfect.
Like no one ever stayed long enough to make it feel alive.
Then—
"Mommy!"
Two small voices echoed down the hallway.
Yvonne froze.
Two kids ran toward Ewa first.
Then stopped when they saw her.
Ewa pointed at Yvonne.
"This is Yvonne. She'll be staying here."
One of the twins tilted her head. "Is she mommy too?"
Silence.
"No," Ewa answered immediately.
Something in Yvonne's chest tightened.
But she still smiled.
"Hi," she said softly. "I'll take care of you guys, okay?"
The twins looked at each other.
Then smiled.
"Okay!"
Just like that.
Children didn't question warmth the way adults did.
Yvonne couldn't sleep.
The house was too unfamiliar, too quiet at night.
She stood in the kitchen, holding a glass of water, trying to make sense of everything.
Fake wife.
Fake family.
Fake life.
Footsteps.
Ewa entered, still in loose business clothes.
She paused when she saw her.
"...Hindi ka pa tulog?" (You're still not sleeping?)
"Di ako makatulog," (I can't sleep) Yvonne admitted.
Ewa opened the fridge. "Normal."
Silence again.
Then Yvonne spoke softly.
"Bakit mo kailangan ng fake wife?" (Why do you need a fake wife?)
Ewa didn't answer right away.
She poured herself a drink instead.
"Image," she said finally. "Business. Reputation. Investors like stability."
Yvonne frowned. "And the kids?"
That made Ewa pause for a fraction of a second.
"They need consistency," she said.
Then colder:
"Not confusion."
Yvonne nodded slowly, but her voice softened.
"...Hindi ka ba napapagod?" (Do you not get tired?)
Ewa looked at her then.
Long silence.
"I don't have time to be tired."
It sounded practiced.
Not honest.
Yvonne tightened her grip on the glass. "...Okay."
She turned to leave.
"Yvonne."
She stopped.
Ewa looked at her for a moment too long.
Then—
"Don't get attached."
Yvonne didn't answer.
But her silence already did.
She walked back to the guest room with a strange weight in her chest.
And behind her, Ewa stayed in the kitchen longer than necessary.
Drink untouched.
Because something about Yvonne didn't feel like a contract.
It felt like a mistake waiting to happen.
And Ewa Montenegro hated things she couldn't control.