LOGINSerena Rivera told the wrong men no—and it shattered her career. Now, to salvage the Rivera legacy, she’s forced into a secret marriage with Lucian Vale, Hollywood’s coldest billionaire producer. He doesn’t want a wife. He doesn’t want her. And no one can ever know they’re married. But Serena Rivera has conditions of her own— Including an expiration date.
View More"Menikahlah dengan saya." Azman berdiri di depan Anisa yang jaraknya hanya sekitar satu meter.
Hujan turun dengan deras di pelataran kampus menjadi saksi lamaran mendadak tersebut. Anisa bahkan bisa melihat jelas jas hitam yang basah terkena percikan air hujan karena posisi Azman membelakangi air."Saya serius. Kamu boleh memikirkannya lebih dulu," imbuh Azman.Anisa diam. Suasana mendadak berubah. Keberadaannya di sini karena terjebak hujan, bukan untuk mendengarkan lamaran. "Maaf, Pak, ini terlalu bercanda untuk ukuran lamaran." Anisa berasumsi demikian.Azman diam. Memperhatikan Anisa yang memakai setelan tunik rok berwarna biru muda dengan jilbab pasmina hitam menutup dada. Beberapa mahasiswa yang sama terjebak bersama mereka memang ada, tetapi jaraknya cukup jauh. "Kalau begitu, bisakah kamu memberikan alamat rumahmu?""Untuk apa, Pak?" Anisa menyambar seketika."Saya akan langsung datang melamar ke sana," jawab Azman.Kedua bola mata Anisa membulat sempurna. Hujan mulia mengecil. Tidak sederas awal-awal. "Maaf, Pak, saya belum mau menikah. Masih banyak mimpi yang belum tercapai."Penolakan Anisa cukup menyakitkan. Namun, Azman harus lapang dada. "Baiklah."Rintik hujan menemani kepergian Anisa. Wanita itu berlarian menerobos hujan sendiri meninggalkan Azman. Pertemuan mereka kali ini ternyata bukan sekadar saling sapa, melainkan membicarakan topik terlalu serius.***"Duh, Ra, aku kok jadi deg-degan gini, ya." Karisma menyembunyikan wajah di meja. Keadaan kantin saat siang hari memang ramai. Bahkan bisa dikatakan hampir setara dengan pasar.Rara melirik Karisma. "Kenapa?" Bertanya seolah pura-pura.Karisma mengangkat kepala, menatap lekat Rara. "Ih, kamu kayak yang nggak tau aja, Ra!" Wanita itu mendengus kesal.Rara mengangkat kedua bahu. "Loh, aku memang nggak tau, kan." Masih terus berpura-pura."Habis Dzuhur itu pelajaran siapa?" Karisma memberikan clue. "Coba diingat-ingat."Rara diam. Kemudian teringat. "Ah, Pak Azman. Memangnya kenapa?" Masih saja bersikap tidak tahu."Ya Allah, Ra!" Hampir saja Karisma ingin berteriak. Benar-benar perlu extra sabar untuk menghadapi satu temannya itu. Ekor mata Karisma mencari ke seluruh penjuru kampus. "Lagian Anisa lama banget, sih! Aku lebih baik cerita sama dia, nyambung!"Bibir Rara maju dua sentimeter ke depan. "Jadi aku ini nggak nyambung?" Rara langsung peka.Karisma tertegun.Rara melipat kedua tangan di dada. Meraih gelas jus alpukat yang baru saja habis setengah. Menyedotnya perlahan-lahan. Sedikit kesal. "Anisa itu lagi ke ruangannya Pak Azman. Kan, lagi setor tugas yang kemarin."Karisma langsung menegakkan badan. "Kamu benar." Wanita itu bergeming lama, lalu berkata lagi, "Kalau nggak salah, Anisa itu sedikit dekat sama Pak Azman karena sering dimintai tolong."Rara mengangguk dengan kondisi masih menyedot jus alpukat."Kenapa aku nggak minta tolong aja sama dia." Karisma baru ingat. Ide yang bagus. "Seenggaknya aku bisa ikut pas Anisa setor tugas."Rara tersedak. Mengerjapkan mata beberapa kali. "Kamu serius?" Rara sama sekali tidak memahami jalan pikiran satu temannya itu. "Pak Azman itu galak, lho. Lebih tepatnya, tegas banget. Aku masih ingat pas Bima ikut Anisa ke ruangannya. Bima kena omel."Karisma diam. Perkataan Rada memang benar. Kejadian itu pun sudah tersebar luas, tetapi Pak Azman seolah berpura-pura tidak tahu."Sebenarnya, apa sih yang buat kamu suka sama dosen setegas Pak Azman?" Rara menyimpan gelas di meja. Ingin tahu lebih detail. "Pak Azman memang tampan, tapi kalau terlalu tegas. Takut juga."Karisma mencubit pipi kanan Rara. "Pak Azman itu sempurna." Rara menepis tangan Karisma. "Selain muda, Pak Azman juga mapan, tampan dan berwibawa, pokoknya idaman para kaum hawa.""Aku nggak tuh!" Rara protes.Sekali lagi Karisma mencubit pipi Rara. "Itu karena seleramu berondong, Ra!" Karisma gemas.Rara terkekeh geli. "Tapi brondong itu enak, lho.""Astagfirullah, Ra. Ingat, istighfar." Karisma merinding. Tangannya memegang pundak. "Kamu kebanyakan nonton film brondong, jadi seperti itu."Rara menepuk jidat Karisma. "Bukan itu maksudnya!" Kesal juga dikatakan demikian. "Mereka itu enak kalau diajak bercanda. Itu aja.""Ah, gitu, ya." Karisma paham.Mereka melanjutkan pembicaraan sekitar beberapa menit sampai akhirnya Anisa datang. Terlihat sekali wajah Anisa ditekuk. Pasti terjadi sesuatu."Astagfirullah." Anisa menghela napas kasar ketika menarik kursi di samping Rara. Menyimpan tote bag di meja. Karisma dan Rara saling melempar pandangan. "Aku lelah kalau gini terus." Anisa mengeluh lagi. Dari sekian banyak mahasiswa di kelas, Pak Azman memang lebih sering meminta tolong pada Anisa. Untuk ukuran perempuan, Anisa cukup kuat menghadapi sifat tegas dan disiplinnya dosen paling muda di kampus ini."Sekarang apalagi?" Rara bertanya lebih dulu. Karisma menyimak.Anisa mengeluarkan botol minum dari tas. Meneguk air itu setelah mengucapkan kalimat basmallah. Selesai itu, barulah menjawab, "Ada satu orang yang nggak mengumpulkan tugas. Aku nggak tau kalau dia itu lupa. Nah, yang jadi sasarannya justru aku." Anisa menempelkan pipi kanan di meja. Sama seperti yang dilakukan Karisma beberapa waktu lalu."Kenapa kamu nggak protes aja sama Pak Azman? Minta diganti sama orang gitu." Rara memberikan saran.Anisa cukup diam. Sepertinya sudah pernah melakukan itu, tetapi tidak berhasil sama sekali. "Dia sepertinya mau menyiksaku terus. Astagfirullah, rasanya pengen aku dorong ke sungai. Aku ceburin." Puncak kekesalan Anisa keluar."Aduh, jangan dong!" Karisma protes.Anisa mengangkat kepala. "Memangnya kenapa? Kamu juga pasti kesel kalau jadi aku?" Anisa sama sekali tidak tahu apa-apa.Rara melirik Karisma. Memberikan isyarat dengan kedipan mata untuk menjelaskan."Begini .." Karisma bersikap serius. Anisa sampai memperhatikannya dalam. "Sebenarnya, aku suka sama Pak Azman." Pengakuan itu akhirnya terungkap.Anisa diam. Satu, dua, tiga detik kemudian, barulah perempuan itu terkejut. "Kamu suka Pak Azman?" Anisa menaikkan satu oktaf nada bicaranya. Tentu saja hal ini menjadi perhatian yang lain.Karisma malu. Ia menempelkan telunjuk kanan di bibir, isyarat agar Anisa menutup mulut. "Jangan berisik! Aku malu." Ekor mata kanan memperhatikan sekitar, beberapa pandangan mahasiswi ke arahnya.Rara diam.Anisa mengatur napas. Melirik Rara, kemudian bertanya, "Kamu santai? Berarti kamu tau soal ini, Ra?" Dengan mudahnya Rara mengangguk cepat. Anisa semakin terkejut. Ia sendiri yang tak tahu.Karisma meraih kedua tangan Anisa. "Sa, kamu mau nggak bantuin aku?" Wajah Karisma kembali serius. Sorot matanya pun menambah jelas.Kening Anisa berkerut kencang. "Bantuin apa?" Jantungnya mendadak bekerja lebih keras seolah akan segera mendapatkan kabar mengejutkan lagi.Karisma menarik napas panjang. Menghembuskannya perlahan-lahan. "Bantuin aku biar bisa dekat sama Pak Azman. Kamu mau, kan?"Anisa menelan ludah. Apa ini permainan takdir? Bagaimana jika Karisma tahu jika Pak Azman pernah melamarnya? Apakah hubungan pertemanan ini akan tetap berlangsung atau bahkan berakhir? Entahlah. Yang jelas, Anisa sama sekali tidak ingin menceritakan itu pada siapa pun. Cukup disimpan untuk dirinya sendiri."Kamu mau, kan, Anisa?" Sekali lagi Karisma bertanya.The silence stretched until Serena couldn’t bear it anymore. She watched Seraphina across the dim warehouse space, studying the absolute stillness with which the other woman held herself. It was remarkable, Serena thought — almost unnerving — how someone could speak so calmly about losing fifteen years of her life, about losing a child, about losing the future she had once imagined for herself, and still sit with perfect posture. Like grief had long ago become another accessory she had learned to wear elegantly, another role she had mastered in front of an unforgiving audience. The warehouse hummed quietly around them. The low, steady drone of ventilation systems mixed with the occasional distant creak of old metal beams settling under their own weight. Faint ribbons of late afternoon light spilled through cracked panes high above, catching dust motes that drifted lazily like tiny, forgotten stars. It felt strangely peaceful for a place that held such devastating revelations.
Serena had expected shouting. Or cold accusation. Or the sharp edge of triumph that powerful people sometimes wore when they finally had someone cornered. Instead, Seraphina sat opposite her with her hands folded neatly in her lap, looking strangely… young. Not in appearance. Seraphina Devacraux had always possessed the kind of timeless beauty that cameras loved and time respected. But in history. As though the years between the woman before her and the girl she had once been had momentarily dissolved, leaving only someone exhausted by the weight of remembering. For a long while, neither of them spoke. The warehouse hummed quietly around them — the low, steady drone of ventilation systems, the occasional distant creak of old metal settling, the faint drip of water somewhere in the shadows. It was the kind of place that existed beneath the glamorous surface of Hollywood: functional, forgotten, and perfect for conversations no one wanted recorded. Finally, Serena broke the silenc
The call with Seraphina lasted less than a minute. It wasn’t nearly enough. Lucian stared at the phone in his hand for several long heartbeats after the line went dead, the screen’s cold glow casting sharp, unforgiving shadows across his face. The device felt heavier than it should have, as though it carried the weight of every unanswered question still hanging between them. Around him, the operations center continued its mechanical ballet with relentless efficiency — analysts murmuring urgently into headsets, fingers flying across keyboards, digital maps updating in real time with new search parameters that led nowhere. None of it mattered. The data flowed endlessly, the teams moved with practiced urgency, the machines hummed their indifferent song, but Serena remained invisible. A ghost in a city built on illusions. He called Aiden back. This time, Aiden answered on the first ring. “I thought we were finished,” Aiden said, his voice low and steady, carrying the quiet exhaustio
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