My Menacingly Handsome Husband

Chapter 1. Aria

Aria's POV

I don't know where to start this story. Maybe upward or downward? Just kidding.

All my life, I've been grounded in my own emotions and weirdness. Some people judge me because of how I behave and how I act as a woman. Sometimes, I wear gowns out of nowhere, and sometimes, I wear tattoos and gothic-themed shirts. It's not that I'm crazy. It's just how I express my mood.

“Aria, what has gotten into your head? Why are you wearing a pink dress in the middle of winter?!” a loud voice echoed through the hallways.

My overreacting mother.

“Mom, you know pink is my favorite color during this season, and besides...” I looked her up and down. “Who's freezing between us? Is it you?” I asked sarcastically.

She scoffed as if what I said had just ended the world.

“You're really an impossible brat, Aria!”

“Always been,” I answered gracefully.

I've always had what people would call a weird personality. Most of my colleagues think I'm unpredictable, uneven, and honestly a little strange. But I never cared. I believe everyone has the right to be themselves, and if being myself makes people confused, then that's their problem, not mine.

After that nonsensical argument, I sat on the couch near the fireplace, wondering what to do next.

“Oh, the young lady is here, sitting like a princess. Why don't you help your mother prepare dinner, lady?” a manly voice entered the room.

As if I care.

I wasn't in the mood to talk to him. Not when he had already decided to throw me into his native country next week.

The Philippines.

I didn't even get to attend Taylor Swift's concert.

I didn't even get to attend Sabrina Carpenter's tour.

Argh!

“Hey, I am talking to you, Aria!”

Dad's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I planted my feet on the floor and stood up before walking toward the kitchen.

“Mom, have you heard someone talking in the air?”

Mom, who was busy cooking, gave me a confused look.

“Huh?”

I simply shrugged and stepped beside her.

Then I smelled the food.

Oh.

What a delicious pasta.

One thing about me—I can ignore people, but I can't ignore food.

Before I even realized it, dinner was already served.

“So, your decision is final, Armando? Aria will fly to the Philippines next week?”

That topic again.

Dad glanced at me while I rolled my eyes.

As if his decision alone could make me willingly move to his country.

Hello?

I don't even have a boyfriend here yet.

At least let me experience heartbreak first.

“Mom, can I stay here?” I asked dramatically, activating my acting skills.

“You know we can't change your father's decision. Besides, it's good for you to finally meet your fiancé.”

“Meet my what?”

I nearly choked on my food.

Did I hear that correctly?

“Yes, Aria. You're going to meet your fiancé in the Philippines, so you'd better behave.”

I stared at them.

They stared back.

Nobody looked like they were joking.

Before I could even process what had just happened, Dad stood up and headed toward their room.

Like what in the duchess?

After that shocking dinner, I barely spoke to anyone for the next few days.

Well, partly because I was angry.

And partly because I was on my period.

Actually, mostly because I was on my period.

I spent every day trying to think of reasons not to go to the Philippines, but none of them worked.

In my twenty-four years of living, I've always been independent. I liked making my own decisions. I liked controlling my own life.

But finding out I was apparently engaged to someone I'd never met?

Just LOL.

One afternoon, Mom sat beside me while I was pretending to be productive.

“Aria, I know you're still mad at your father, but he's doing this for your future. You're already twenty-four years old. It's time for you to get a life.”

Instead of taking her words seriously, I simply stared at her.

“When did you inherit Dad's culture, Mom? You're slowly becoming Filipino like him.”

Mom smacked my shoulder.

I laughed.

A little.

Internally, though?

Fuck this life.

Fuck that fiancé.

If I ever met him, I'd either convince him that I'm not worthy of him or convince Dad that he's not worthy of me.

Let's see who wins.

Still, as much as I hated admitting it, Mom was partially right.

Very partially.

Like ten percent right.

I wasn't getting any younger.

And if I somehow reached thirty without doing anything meaningful with my life, maybe I'd just end up becoming a rich auntie who spoiled cats and complained about taxes.

Actually...

That didn't sound too bad.

“You take care, baby, okay?”

Mom clung to me while we stood at the airport.

The day had finally arrived.

Despite all my protests, all my complaints, and all my dramatic speeches, I still ended up here.

I wasn't able to fight back with enough reasons, so whether I liked it or not, I had to follow Dad's order.

Just this once.

As we walked toward the departure area, I rolled my eyes so hard I was thankful I was wearing glasses.

Otherwise, people would've known I was mentally cursing everyone around me.

“Behave when you're in the Philippines, Aria. I'll ask Ansel to pick you up once you land there. Just contact me, and he'll help you settle into our house.”

Dad spoke as if he was delivering commandments from the heavens.

I simply nodded.

Even my eyes behind my glasses were already rolling.

For the last time, I hugged Mom.

Then Dad.

Then Mom again because she's my favorite.

After saying goodbye, I dragged my luggage toward the boarding gate.

Is there any way to escape this?

Any way at all?

I didn't even get to properly say goodbye to my friends.

Everything happened too fast.

If there had been a legal way to disappear, I would've done it already.

But never mind.

I'm already here.

Might as well enjoy the ride.

And as for the Philippines?

The Philippines can take care of itself.

And whoever this mysterious fiancé was, he'd better be ready.

Because I wasn't flying all the way to the Philippines just to be claimed.