CHAPTER SIX: The contract

Chapter six: The contract 

The Manila skyline was a chaotic masterpiece of glowing amber and moving headlights, but to Xielle, it was just background noise. She leaned against her balcony railing, the humid night air clinging to her skin as she stirred her coffee.

Her mind was a mess, stuck on the meeting from hours ago. This movie was her comeback—her grand return to the screen—but there was one massive complication: Jake Marquez. Acting alongside him wasn't just a job; it was a test of her resolve.

A sudden memory of Zeke in his office flashed in her mind, causing a slow, dangerous smirk to tug at her lips.

"Should I just ask him to be my 'friends with benefits'?" she murmured to the empty air, her voice low and playful. "He’s ridiculously hot, filthy rich, and clearly has a thing for power."

She had always assumed she was invisible to a man like Zeke Yuan Zhao, but the way he had looked at her recently told a different story. "I wonder..." she whispered, her thoughts trailing into territory she had never explored. For someone who had played the role of the 'untouchable virgin' for twenty-three years, her imagination was becoming surprisingly reckless.

A sharp ping from her phone broke the trance.

Manager: We’re at the lobby. Don't be late for the script reading.

Xielle didn't waste a second. She grabbed her bag, poured her coffee into a travel mug, and headed down. The moment she stepped into the sleek black van, the cool air conditioning hit her.

"How was your sleep?" her manager, Mama Maxine, asked without looking up from her tablet. "Is your stomach still bothering you? Your period was hitting you hard yesterday."

Xielle shook her head, taking a sip of her coffee. "I’m fine. It only ever lasts three days, remember? I'm back to 100%."

As the van merged into the heavy Manila traffic, Maxine leaned in. "I heard a rumor. Z-Luxury Fragrance didn't sign a single girl from yesterday’s casting. Not one."

"Really?" Xielle arched a perfectly groomed brow. "I saw the lineup. They were some of the biggest names in the industry."

"His standards are on another level," Maxine noted. 

"Zeke only picks those who are... irreplaceable."

Xielle leaned her head back against the leather seat, a small, knowing smirk playing on her face. 'He has taste, I’ll give him that,' she thought, closing her eyes. It was going to be a long day.

Meanwhile

On the other side of the city, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of chrome and sweat. Zeke Yuan Zhao was focused on his reps, his muscles tensed under the harsh gym lights, while his friends Arthur and Miguel watched from the bench.

"So, Khione is the girl after all," Miguel teased, tossing a towel over his shoulder.

Arthur smirked, crossing his arms. "The same girl from two years ago. Some things never change."

"Shut the hell up, Arthur," Zeke grunted, the weight of the dumbbells not even slowing his rhythm.

"You're the Final Boss of 'Yearning,' Zeke," Miguel laughed. "She’s always been the one. Why don't you just tell her and end the drama?"

Zeke stopped, his expression turning cold and sharp. "Why would I?"  he asked, his voice like ice. "I am Zeke Yuan Zhao. I don't chase, and I certainly don't confess."

"Your ego is going to be your funeral," Miguel countered. 

"Look at her. You think male models aren't lined up at her door? She even showed me some of the guys hitting on her the other day." It's Arthur.

Zeke’s grip tightened on the dumbbell until his knuckles turned white. He didn't look up, his face a mask of indifference.

"Let them try," he said, his voice dropping an octave as he returned to his set.

Arthur and Miguel exchanged a look, both knowing that behind that ego, Zeke was already losing a war he hadn't even officially started.

The conference room was thick with the scent of expensive coffee and the sound of flipping pages. Xielle sat across from Jake, the atmosphere heavy with the unspoken history of their "Compatibility Test."

Every time their eyes met during the reading, the director would nod in approval. The chemistry was undeniable, but for Xielle, it was just another performance. Her real focus was elsewhere.

After the session, the day blurred into a whirlwind of flashbulbs and silk robes for her soap endorsement. By the time the final "Wrap!" was called, it was 7:00 PM. The Manila sky had turned a deep, bruised purple.

Inside the van, Xielle’s phone buzzed.

Unknown: Come to my office. Wait there.

A slow, dangerous smirk spread across her lips. She didn't need to save the number to know the sender. The cold, commanding tone was a signature of Zeke Yuan Zhao.

"Drop me off at Z Luxury Fragrance," Xielle said, her voice smooth as she reapplied a layer of cherry-red tint to her lips. "I’m meeting a 'friend' there."

Mama Maxine looked at her through the rearview mirror, her brows furrowed. "You’ve been heading there quite often lately, Xielle. Mag-ingat ka. One wrong move and the tabloids will have a field day."

"Let them," Xielle countered, her gaze fixed on the towering glass building approaching. "I wouldn't mind a scandal with him. It might actually be fun."

"What did you say?" Maxine gasped.

"Nothing," Xielle smiled innocently, though her eyes were flashing with mischief. "Just drop me off, Mama. I’ll be home late.”

The boardroom of Z Luxury was a vacuum of silence, filled only by the soft scratching of expensive pens against paper. Zeke Yuan Zhao, twenty-five and already the most feared man in the building, sat at the head of the obsidian table.

"Mr. Zhao, the projections for the Q3 fragrance launch show a 12%—"

Buzz.

Zeke’s phone vibrated against the table. He ignored it.

Buzz. Buzz.

He glanced down. A notification from an unsaved number popped up. It was a photo of a pair of high heels kicked off near his office sofa, with a glimpse of a pale, elegant ankle.

Unknown: Your office chair is actually really comfortable. But I’m bored. How much longer are you going to keep talking about money?

Zeke’s jaw tightened. He didn't move, but the air around him seemed to drop five degrees.

"Mr. Zhao?" the director asked, sensing the shift. "Is there a problem?"

Zeke didn't answer. He was watching a second message pop up.

KHIONE: I'm here at your office. I have an offer 

Zeke’s posture shifted instantly. The fountain pen in his hand snapped with a clean crack, the ink staining his thumb, but he didn't even flinch. He felt a sudden, localized heat blooming beneath his tailored trousers—a sharp, demanding ache that made the dry marketing presentation feel like a distant memory.

"Mr. Zhao?" a board member ventured, noticing the CEO’s sudden, predatory stillness. "Is there an issue with the third-quarter projections?"

Zeke didn't look up. He was busy staring at the screen, his jaw set so tight it looked like marble.

"The projections are fine," Zeke said, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly tone that made the directors exchange nervous glances. It was the voice of a man who was about to lose his mind—or find it. "But something more... urgent has come up."

He stood up abruptly, buttoning his suit jacket as if preparing for battle.

"This meeting is adjourned. Everyone out. Now."

"But sir, we haven't finished the—"

"I said out," Zeke growled, his eyes flashing with a dark, competitive fire.

As the confused board members scrambled to leave, Zeke strode toward his private office. He threw the door open and locked it behind him in one fluid motion. Xielle was there, draped over his leather chair, swinging her legs lazily.

"You're late," She said as she stood. 

" You really know what you're doing aren't you?" He smirks looking down at her leather mini skirt. 

"Of course, I have a good offer," She said. 

Lumapit si Zeke sa kaniya while si Xielle na upo sa desk ni Zeke crossing her arm and legs. 

" What's your offer? " Tumayo si Zeke sa harap ni Xielle. 

" I heard wala kang napili for the local model?" She said looking at him. 

" Would you like to offer yourself? " He asked, raising his right eyebrow. 

She took a deep breath. "Nope, I don't wanna be involved with your business" Ani niya. 

Zeke can't believe a woman like her doesn't like to be involved with his business.

Hinawakan ni Zeke ang chin ni Xielle. "What's your offer then?" He asked. 

She smirks. "I want you—" 

Zeke cut her off with a kiss. He held her neck and aggressively kissed her. 

Zeke didn't let her finish. He crashed his lips onto hers, a collision of two years of suppressed pining and her reckless bravery. He lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around his waist as he backed her against the floor-to-ceiling window. The lights of Manila blurred behind them.

"I'm a virgin, Zeke," she whispered against his lips. "Is that a problem for your 'friends with benefits' deal?"

Zeke pulled back, looking shook. "What? Are you fucking serious with that? You want to use the CEO of Z Luxury as a... side project?"

"Bakit? Is it too low-market for you?" Xielle smirked, her fingers tracing the ink on his thumb. "No drama, no expectations. Just let off some steam. Isn't that every man's dream?"

"I am not a 'distraction,' Xielle," Zeke growled, his grip on her chin tightening. "Are you saying this because you're ovulating or do you really mean it?"

"I'm not ovulating! I just like the thought of you—"

"Come on, let's eat," Zeke interrupted, his ego screaming as he tried to fix her clothes and move her off the desk. "Khione, don't fucking test my patience."

"Eat me," she challenged. She couldn't accept that she can't turn him on.

That was the breaking point. Xielle pushed Zeke onto the couch, her hands working fast to unbutton his trousers until his hardened reality was exposed. She knelt before him, a playful, dangerous smirk on her face.

"Khione, I'm warning you," he gasped.

"This is just a plain game," she whispered.

Zeke’s head fell back as she claimed him, her warmth and professional rhythm making him lose every ounce of his corporate composure. "Fuck!" he groaned, the sound music to her ears. When she finally moved to sit on his lap, discarding her silk lace, she looked him dead in the eye.

"Enter me, Zeke."

He guided himself to her entrance, taking a ragged breath as the tip touched her. "You really don't know what you caused me, Khione," he rasped.

With one slow, controlled motion, he filled her. They both looked up at the ceiling as she sobbed into his shoulder, the initial pain hitting her hard. Zeke let out a breathy, stifled laugh at her shocked expression.

"Don't fucking laugh! It's moving!" she hissed, biting his shoulder hard.

"Uh! Fuck," Zeke moaned into the bite.

"What the hell is that... it's so fucking big!"

Zeke caught her lips in a kiss to distract her, his hands gripping her hips with white-knuckled intensity. As the pain faded into a heavy, pulsing electricity, his tenderness surfaced.

"Slow down, baby. Huwag mong biglain," he whispered, his pace becoming deep and deliberate. Every thrust was a silent rebuttal to her 'casual' deal. He wasn't a side project; he was the one staking a claim.

"Say my name," Zeke commanded, his voice thick as he felt her release beginning to coil. 

"Zeke... Yuan..." She moaned.

The office was a blur of neon city lights and shadowed corners, the air thick with the scent of sandalwood and raw, unadulterated desire. Zeke flipped Xielle in one fluid motion, her back hitting the plush velvet of the couch as he hoisted her legs onto his shoulders. He didn’t hesitate; he leaned down and claimed her with a hunger that made her vision spin.

Xielle’s fingers tangled in his hair, her back arching off the leather. "Fuck, Zeke!" she cried out, her "Ice Queen" persona completely shattered.

Zeke didn't stop until she was trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Then, without a word, he moved over her. One moment she was drowning in the sensation of his touch, and the next, he was shielding her body with his own, his weight grounding her as he drove into her with a punishing, rhythmic intensity.

"Fuck! Khione!" Zeke growled, his voice a low, primal vibration against her skin.

"Ugh! Zeke... slower—"

"No," he rasped, his eyes locking onto hers, dark and possessive. "That's right... moan my name as loud as you can. I want to hear exactly who’s ruining you right now."

He didn't just move; he conquered. Every thrust was deep and deliberate, a silent reminder of every night he’d spent wanting her from afar. Xielle’s hands moved from his shoulders to his chest, her nails scratching against his skin as she tried to find her rhythm.

"You’re so tight, it’s a crime," Zeke muttered, his jaw set so tight it looked like marble. Despite the rough pace, he was careful, his hands anchoring her hips so she wouldn't slide against the couch. He was a gentleman even in his depravity, making sure she was taken care of even as he took everything she had to give.

The friction was becoming unbearable—a sweet, localized heat that made Xielle’s world narrow down to just the two of them.

"Zeke, I’m... I'm close," she panted, her Taglish slipping as the pleasure became too much to handle. "Hindi ko na kaya..."

"Then don't hold back, Khione. Go with me," Zeke urged, his own pace becoming frantic, his muscles tensed to the absolute limit.

He hit a spot that made her toes curl and her voice break into a high, desperate sob. She climaxed with his name on her lips, her body clamping around him in a way that finally broke his iron-clad control. Zeke let out a guttural, raw sound, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he followed her into the abyss, his own release hitting him with the force of a tidal wave.

Minutes later, the only sound was the distant hum of Manila traffic twenty floors below. Zeke didn't pull away. 

He stayed there, his forehead pressed against hers, his breath slowly evening out. He reached out, tucking a sweat-dampened lock of dark hair behind her ear with a tenderness that contradicted the intensity of the last hour.

The next morning, the sunlight piercing through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Zeke’s penthouse felt like a personal attack. When Xielle  tried to shift under the silk sheets, a sharp, aching protest shot through her lower body.

Damn it. Zeke really took advantage of their "deal." He was relentless, as if he were trying to make up for those two years of yearning in a single night.

She was completely naked, her clothes scattered somewhere between the boardroom and this bed. Reaching for her phone, she dialed Mama Maxine with a shaky hand. "Ma... I can’t make it today. I’m not feeling well. Migraine," she lied, her voice raspy.

Luckily, her manager bought it and told her to rest. The moment she hung up, the door opened, and Zeke walked in, looking far too refreshed for a man who hadn't slept much. He was already dressed in a casual black shirt, looking like a literal god.

"Let's eat," he said, his voice dropping into that low, bedroom register.

"I can't move, Zeke! Kasalanan mo 'to," Xielle hissed, glaring at him while clutching the duvet to her chest.

"Sorry," he replied, though the smirk playing on his lips said he wasn't sorry at all.

He walked over and unceremoniously pulled the blanket back. Xielle gasped, trying to cover herself, but Zeke was already tossing her one of his oversized white button-downs and a pair of boxers. As he looked at her—the marks he left on her skin looking like a map of his possession—his eyes darkened again. For a second, the air turned heavy. He looked tempted to just crawl back into bed and start over.

"Don't you dare! Lumabas ka na," Xielle barked, pushing his chest away before he could get any closer.

"I’m just helping," he murmured, his hands lingering on her waist for a second too long before he finally stood up. "Bilisan mo. The food is getting cold."

As Xielle struggled to put on his clothes, she felt a wave of regret. Maling desisyon yata 'to, she thought. 

Getting involved with a man like Zeke Yuan Zhao was like playing with a beautiful, expensive fire. But then she remembered the way he looked at her last night, and the regret started to fade. He was just too freaking hot.

She limped out to the dining area, every step a reminder of his stamina. *Makirot pa rin,* but she maintained her "Ice Queen" poise as she sat down.

"What's all this?" she asked, looking at the spread on the marble table.

"It's all low-calorie. I know you have to maintain your physique for the movie," Zeke said, expertly plating some grilled asparagus and poached eggs for her.

He sat across from her, watching her eat with an intensity that made her feel like she was still naked. "Eat up, Khione. You’ll need your strength. I don’t plan on being any gentler tonight."

Xielle almost choked on her coffee. "Tonight?! Zeke, may shooting ako bukas!"

"Then I guess you'll have to be a very good actress tomorrow," he smirked, sipping his black coffee. 

"Because once I’ve tasted the benefits, Xielle... I’m not going back to being just a 'friend.'”

The atmosphere in the penthouse was a strange mix of domestic bliss and underlying tension. For anyone looking in, they looked like the "it" couple of the year—Zeke, the powerful CEO, and Xielle, the nation's muse, lounging in a high-rise sanctuary.

Zeke was playing the role of the attentive partner perfectly. He spent the afternoon making sure she was hydrated, checking her temperature, and even letting her use his lap as a pillow while she reviewed her script for Chasing the Afterglow. It felt like a relationship. It looked like love.

But inside, Xielle was constantly drawing a line in the sand.

Every time his hand lingered on her waist or he kissed the top of her head while she was reading, she reminded herself: "This is just a contract."For her, Zeke was a luxury—a high-end distraction to keep the stress of her comeback at bay. She didn't have the energy for the "high-maintenance" drama of a real relationship, especially not with a man as possessive as Zeke Yuan Zhao.

As the sun began to set over Manila, casting a golden-orange hue over the living room, Zeke closed his laptop and turned his full attention to her.

"The driver will take you back to your condo at 8:00 PM," Zeke said, his voice dropping to that low, possessive rumble. "But I'm coming with you. I don't like the idea of you being alone when you're still aching."

Xielle sat up, sliding out of his reach and handing him back his oversized shirt as she reached for her own clothes. "No need, Zeke. I can handle myself. Remember? No drama, no expectations."

Zeke’s jaw tightened. The "Yearner" in him wanted to snap, to tell her that he’d been waiting two years just to have her in his space, but his ego held him back. "It’s not a drama, Khione. It’s practical."

"It’s a relationship duty, Zeke. And we aren't in one," Xielle countered, her voice cool and professional. She stood up, despite the lingering soreness in her legs, and looked him dead in the eye. "Don't get confused. You're the 'benefits,' not the boyfriend. Magkaiba 'yun."

Zeke let out a dry, humorless laugh as he stood up, looming over her. He hated how easily she could switch back into the "Ice Queen" after being so undone in his arms hours before.

"You're really going to stick to that script, aren't you?" Zeke stepped into her space, his hand coming up to tilt her chin. "Fine. It’s a contract. But remember the exclusivity clause, Xielle. If I find out you're letting Jake Marquez get even an inch too close on that set tomorrow... I’m going to remind you exactly who owns those 'benefits' in a way you won't forget."

Xielle smirked, though her heart did a traitorous little flip at his words. "I'm a professional, Mr. Zhao. I know how to keep my work and my... hobbies separate."

"Hobbies?" Zeke growled, his eyes flashing. He pulled her flush against him for one last, punishing kiss that tasted of sandalwood and unspoken promises. "I'll show you a 'hobby' tonight before you leave. Let's see if you can still call it 'nothing more' when you're screaming my name again."

Xielle let him. She enjoyed the heat, the power, and the thrill—but as the elevator doors eventually closed, she took a deep breath and adjusted her sunglasses. To the world, she was the star. To Zeke, she was a partner. But to herself? She was just a woman playing a very dangerous game of hearts, and she had no intention of losing.

The next day, Xielle’s world was a blur of back-to-back schedules. Her agenda was packed: script reading in the morning, followed by ad promotions, and a late-afternoon photoshoot.

Parang wala na talaga siyang oras huminga, but she didn’t mind. This was the life she chose, and she always made sure to give her 100% in everything she did.

"This is a solid project," the producer said, nodding as they finished the first act. "The chemistry between the leads is vital here."

"I agree," Jake, her co-star, chimed in with a charming smile. "Xielle and I will make sure the audience feels every bit of the tension."

Xielle just smiled politely. "I’m looking forward to working with everyone. Let's make this a hit."

After the script reading, the cast did a quick round of introductions before proceeding to the teaser shoot. By the time they wrapped up, it was already 7:00 PM.

"Hey, Xielle," Jake approached her while she was packing her things. "Let’s grab dinner? We need to get comfortable with each other para maging natural ang outcome ng drama. Plus, you know what? We need this for promotion."

He was right. In this industry, a 'sighted' dinner was as good as a press release. They needed the public talking.

After dinner, Jake dropped her off at her condo. He didn't go up; he just waited in the lobby until he was sure she was safe. The moment Xielle stepped inside her unit, she headed straight for the shower, washing away the day's exhaustion.

She changed into her lounge gear—silk shorts and a sando. She skipped the bra, needing the comfort after a long day of being 'on.' She settled onto her couch, grabbed a bowl of popcorn, and played her favorite drama to unwind.

Thirty minutes later, her phone buzzed. A message from Zeke: “I’m outside.”

Xielle stood up, peeked through the peephole, and opened the door. Before she could even say a word, Zeke surged forward. He claimed her lips in a deep, hungry kiss, kicking the door shut behind him. His arms wound tightly around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

"What the hell is that flavor?" Zeke murmured against her lips, his voice husky.

"Halik ka nang halik! Popcorn 'yan, luyon," Xielle teased, pushing him off playfully. She turned her back on him and walked back to the couch.

Zeke sat beside her, glancing at the bowl. "What's that?"

"Popcorn nga. Hindi ka ba nakikinig?" she replied, eyes fixed on the TV.

Zeke didn't argue. Instead, he leaned over and laid his head on Xielle’s lap. She froze for a second—he was being unusually clingy.

"Why?" she asked, her voice softening.

"Hmm." He took a deep breath, eyes closing as he inhaled her scent. He wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face against her stomach.

Ano bang meron sa lalaking 'to? she wondered, looking down at him. From this close, she couldn't deny how breathtakingly handsome he was. She remembered how intense they were earlier and a small, private smile tugged at her lips. She let him stay there, running her fingers through his hair as she continued her show.

Thirty minutes passed before Zeke stirred. "You smell so good," he whispered.

Xielle tried to ignore him, but her breath hitched when she felt his hand slide upward, resting over her chest.

"Is this real?" he asked, his thumb grazing the silk of her top as he felt the curve of her breast.

"Of course, it's real!" Xielle hissed, blushing.

"I like it," he murmured.

She swatted his hand away. "Yung kamay mo nga, Zeke! Napaka-likot."

"I thought it was fake because it’s too perfect," he teased, finally sitting up to look at her. His expression turned serious. "Kailan mo balak huminto sa pag-aartista? Tania told me that this field isn't actually your dream."

Xielle’s eyebrows shot up. "She told you that?"

"Don't be mad at her. She’s just concerned."

Xielle looked away, her gaze landing on the TV screen but not really seeing it. "I'll stop... when I don't need it anymore."

"What do you mean? You have so many endorsements, Xielle. You’re successful."

"Yeah, but I'm supporting my mom and my dad... and their separate families. My salary is divided by three: for my parents, and for the charity I support."

Zeke frowned. "Why?"

"What do you mean why? They're my parents. And the charity... Those people were the ones who treated me like family when I had no one. I owe them." Her voice wavered, her eyes growing misty.

Zeke leaned in, his gaze softening. "You're so selfless, aren't you?"

"I have to be. You know what? I can't even justify buying luxury things for myself."

"You have a closet full of designer bags," Zeke pointed out.

"Those are gifts from endorsements or from random guys—admirers. I won't waste my own money on that stuff when it can go to someone who needs it more."

Zeke went silent, just watching her.

"Ba't tumahimik ka?" Xielle turned to him.

"Nothing. Just thinking."

"What time ka uuwi?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"I'll stay here tonight. I'm too lazy to drive."

Xielle sighed, leaning back. "You know what? I actually want to learn how to drive myself."

"Are you planning to buy a car?"

"Yeah. Someday. I just don't know when the budget will allow it."

Zeke stood up, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'll teach you how to drive. My treat."

Xielle laughed softly, the tension finally breaking. "Sure, I'd love that. But for now..." she leaned in, whispering playfully, "let me drive you crazy instead."

Zeke chuckled, pulling her back into his arms. "So naughty.”

Xielle just smiled, she couldn't understand why she felt something at ease with Zeke.