Indebted: A Debt-p*****t Romance (English Version)

Chapter 7.1

"Did you wear yourself out in the kitchen?" He gently tucked my wild hair behind my ear. Goosebumps rose around my skin. Yet, despite the uneasiness, I gave him a smile. 

"Ate Ime and the maids can do the chores.” He nodded once to the aligned maids, his smile warm and wide. My breath hitched at his close proximity. "But I really love it when you make some effort for us."

My face was almost distorted because of the fake smile I forced him to give. But what should I do? I don't know how to react. I don't know how to respond. One wrong answer and the real Mr. Montevalles might return in an instant. 

And you think it's not the real him?

I shook my head. I don't know. I'm not sure. I'm used to seeing him as the horrible Mr. Montevalles he is. Not this creepy and weird kind of him. But I'd really like him like this—tender and not violent.

The two normally talked about their family business. About the renovation and everything that I could gather from that conversation. His son would answer in monotone as always. Mr. Montevalles would try joining me to the conversation but I could only give them a smile as an answer. Except that I really have no idea how to respond, I’m still not over with his sudden change. 

They continue their conversation even after the meal all the while having their cup of coffee. I also had my own cup of coffee and stayed with them although I badly wanted to just lock myself up in the room. But it would be rude of me to leave them. Especially because after the meal, Mr. Montevalles’ hand never left mine. My hand would always tremble whenever he squeezed it but I tried not to show it to him. This still feels surreal. I still can’t believe he will change like this over the night.

"You should bring Yohan over here, son," Mr. Montevalles said to his son, who instinctively turned rigid at the mention of his supposed son, Yohan. In my peripheral vision, I noticed Manang Imelda standing upright.

My curiosity immediately washed out before I could even ask. And it's not like I'm really going to ask, anyway

"Yohan is his son," Mr. Montevalles continued and it's like he just brought the bomb out. I don’t even understand why I feel a weird reaction after hearing it. 

So, his son has a son. He is a grandfather already. Though he looks too young to even be called grandpa.

 "Tell that to Cyril, she'll surely love the idea."

Another name in question again. Is she Señorito's daughter too?

"She's the mother of Yohan," Mr. Montevalles answered my question. He probably realized I couldn’t bring myself to speak to ask a question. 

I smiled and nodded once. I caught his son’s eyes on me when I made an unexpected glance at him. I can’t read anything from his face because he is making sure not to give himself away. I actually think he is also trying to decipher what’s going on in my mind after I learned the information about his own family. I shrugged my shoulders at that. 

"How old Yohan is?" My own question surprised me. The question was meant to be directed to the son but I found it difficult to make eye contact with him whenever I remember what he did. I turned to his father instead and smiled.  

 "Four?" he answered in a question before asking his son for correction, "Right, son?"

 "Five this coming month," the son answered right away and sipped on his coffee.

 Five? He looks too young to have a son either. 

If he indeed has his own family, where are they? Why are they not living here with them? This mansion is big enough to accommodate members of this family. It’s huge for only the two men and their employees.

The silence stretched until we made it out of the dining room. I just feel cold, even though Mr. Montevalles arm was wrapped around my waist. It could be the reason for my coldness. The gesture is too sensual and I feel like he's invading too much of my privacy. I know this is nothing compared to what his son did. But I can’t have the real comfort of having his arm always around me. Should I pretend that I accept this charade they are playing? I, as his wife and mother to his child? And grandmother to his grandson, Yohan!?

I am too young to be a grandmother And also too young to be his wife. I’m only twenty-one! 

We are in the middle of the spacious living room and in front of their employed men. I remembered them all being in the same abandoned building Dion brought me in, but none of them are the men I shot with a gun.

I don't have any idea what I look like in front of them. It’s also suspicious that they forgot what happened before. I am no longer the helpless girl Dion used as a debt p*****t. In the way they bow at me, I am now the mistress of their boss. I could sense the respect they have on me as I stood in front of them.

"Please, clean the playroom. We will use it today," Mr. Montevalles' last order to them. With a simple jerk of his head, everyone scurries away to do their tasks. The men went back outside to stand guard. 

My brows are light knitted. Playroom? Is that the same for those I've seen in the movies and read in the books? Just thinking about what he might do there dreaded me. That is if he plans on going there alone. He said he would use it for today. Does it mean he will not leave today? What if he decides to take me with him inside that room? 

My thoughts halted after hearing the heavy footsteps stepping down the stairs. Mr. Montevalles and I both turned to look at it. It's his son, the Señorito. 

I gasped seeing him make his way down the intricate stairs with confidence. He once ran his hand through his still-damp hair before fixing the cuffs of his tailored suit. Despite the distance, his manly smell had managed to assail my nostrils. 

I just stood there frozen. If Mr. Montevalles wasn't holding me, I could have run anywhere. Anywhere in this house as long as I am hidden from him. The thoughts made me frown. Why would I run from him? I can pretend like he has no effect on me. Besides, I am not sure what kind of reaction this is. 

He is attractive, yes. But I am not into him. Never.

I looked up and our eyes met. I swore his brows were almost knitted but he refused it. He made sure not to show his confusion watching us but I was able to take a glimpse of it already before he showed that vacant face. He made the last step of the stairs and walked to us. 

"I wish you the best for the meeting," Mr. Montevalles said. 

"You're not going to work?" he asked curiously before glancing at me once. 

I tightened my lips, preventing myself to gasp as his smell came a little closer and I could freely inhale it. His darted eyes bore into me.  

Tightening his hold on me, Mr. Montevalles looked down at me with that sweet smile still plastered over his face. "Nah, I'll have a day off. We need time together."

I could hardly breathe. If it's because of his hold on me, his closeness, or his words itself, I’m not sure. All I knew was that my eyes instinctively made contact with the son's dark eyes. I don't know how to read him. He looked as if he was cursing me in his mind because of the look he was giving to me.

He did what he had done last night because he thought something happened between me and his father. What is he going to think now about what his father said? How is he going to perceive it? 

And what's wrong with him? If he doesn’t want his father to have women, then he should do something about it. Tell his father to stop and let me go and have a life of my own. And he shouldn't have brought me here in the first place.

"Enjoy then," he nodded once, his voice as cold as his stares. I was caught off guard when he suddenly scooted and gave a quick kiss on my cheek. I would have taken a step back if only Mr. Montevalles was not holding me, keeping me in my place. But I don't want him to think of anything else about me refusing his son's 'motherly' kiss so I made myself rooted in my place. 

"I gotta go, dad. I hope you both find pleasure. 

I watched him retreat back. Waiting in the foyer is one of the guards who handed him a key to his parked car just outside their circular driveway. One full minute passed before his words sank in my mind.

hope you both find a pleasure

And I remember about the playroom. What does he mean? What playroom is that? He was so mad at me last night because of what he thought happened between me and his dad. And now he actually said we enjoy it. Enjoy what? 

What does his father plan with me, today, for having a day off from work?