MISTAKEN BRIDE IDENTITY

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

LYKA'S POV

It was already nighttime by the time we got home. And, just as expected, my furious stepmother greeted us at the gate—looking like a pig being dragged to the s*******r.

“You—you little—” She froze mid-sentence when she realized it wasn’t me in front of her.

Kyla stood tall and graceful. She looked like a model—light makeup, an elegant outfit, and heels that could kill. The moment my stepmother saw who it was, her whole attitude shifted like lightning.

“Oh! Kyla, sweetie! What a surprise! So nice of you to visit,” she said with a wide, fake smile that couldn’t have been more obvious.

Kyla just rolled her eyes. I almost burst out laughing but quickly stepped aside, hiding behind her. If I had been the first one she saw, I would’ve gotten an earful—or worse, a handful of hair.

“Please don’t scold Lyka,” Kyla said softly. “I was the one who took her out.”

Even Kyla hated putting on an act. She couldn’t look my stepmother in the eyes either.

“Well, I—” My stepmother began, but Kyla immediately handed her a five thousand peso bill.

I instinctively massaged my forehead. Why is it that money always shuts people up?

“Oh, Kyla, thank you so much!” my stepmother beamed and instantly turned around, disappearing inside.

“You didn’t have to give her money,” I muttered. “Now she’ll be worse.”

“You know me,” Kyla said. “I can’t stand watching that woman treat you like crap.”

She pulled out more cash from her purse.

“Kyla, stop. Seriously,” I said, trying to push it away.

“It’s not from me—it’s from my dad,” she explained. “He found out that witch drained the pension fund your dad left behind. He actually cut her off. Here—this is the new ATM card and pin. It’s in your name now. I tested it—works just fine.”

I was speechless. So I just hugged her tight.

“Be careful, okay? Call me if something happens,” she said.

I nodded.

“You know… about what we talked about.”

I was referring to her boyfriend situation.

“Yes, big sister! Ciao!” she grinned and hopped into the car, waving as it drove off.

“Bye!” I called after her.

I smiled—then winced.

“Ow!” I cried out as the paper bags I was carrying fell on my foot. Only then did I realize I was lugging around thirty bags. Thirty!

I brought everything inside, stuffed them in my room, then grabbed three bags and headed out to hand them to my stepmother.

“These are for my brothers.”

“Well, it’s good that you finally thought of buying your siblings something,” she said.

“They’re kind to me—unlike you,” I mumbled.

“What was that?!”

“Huh? Oh! I said Kyla bought those,” I quickly lied.

“Oh really? Well, tell her thanks.”

“Don’t worry—it’s the last time,” I muttered again.

“What?!”

“I said… let’s eat.”

I turned around and headed back to my room. Once inside, I laid out everything Kyla bought me. I stood there with my hands on my hips, pacing.

Where the heck am I gonna put all these clothes?

I finally dragged out my suitcase and started folding everything neatly inside. Then I decided to lay on my old mat again, hugging one of the dresses that Kyla gave me. A soft, silky thing I’d never wear unless it was for something… life-changing.

Then an idea sparked in my head. A crazy, terrifying, possibly brilliant idea.

What if I switched places with Kyla for a day? What if… I became her?

I laughed to myself. Impossible. Crazy. Or was it?

I sighed and sat back again, putting the dress in my drawer. After organizing my things, I stepped out of my room—only to freeze at the sound of my name.

I quickly ducked behind the wall and listened. My stepmother had a visitor. A man I didn’t recognize.

“When are you going to pay me back, Meriam?!” the man shouted.

“I don’t have the money yet,” she snapped. “But the daughter of my second husband—she’s pretty. You can make money off her!”

My hand flew to my mouth. My heart pounded. I ran back to my room, shut the door, and locked it.

“You heartless woman,” I whispered, trembling.

I began packing immediately. I had to get out. Now.

“Big sister?”

I turned around. It was my younger stepbrother. I pulled him into my room and locked the door.

“You’re leaving?” he asked.

I nodded, and tears began rolling down my cheeks.

“I have to. If I stay here, your mom’s going to sell me.”

He nodded back, eyes serious.

“I’ll help you tonight. I’ll sleep in the living room so I can sneak out easily.”

I hugged him tight. Thank God he didn’t take the evilness after his mom.

AN HOUR passed. My stepmother was finally asleep. I shook my brother awake. He got up and quickly went outside to call a cab, and when it returned, we quietly hauled my bags outside. Before I left, I handed him some cash.

“This is my number. Call me if you need anything. And if Kyla drops by, tell her to call me, okay?”

He was crying now. I hugged him one last time before climbing into the taxi.

“Sir, would you mind going somewhere far?” I asked the driver.

“Not at all, ma’am. Where to?”

“To Samal Island, please.”

GOOD grief. My butt was numb from the long ride.

I finally asked to be dropped off at a small hotel on the island. I was just about to walk in when bam! I bumped into a tree—wait, a person. It felt like hitting a wall. I literally landed on the floor.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I looked up and saw a tall guy—maybe around 5'10 ft. Compared to me who's 5'7 ft. I suddenly felt… tiny.

“Miss?” he asked again, nudging me.

“Huh? Uh, yeah,” I stammered.

He was… gorgeous. Ugh.

“Okay,” was all he said before walking away.

What the—he didn’t even apologize?! Rude?! Ugh. Hot guy, zero manners. No thanks.

I rolled my eyes and walked into the hotel to check in. They gave me a key right away and I took the elevator to the third floor. The moment I entered my room, I collapsed onto the bed. So soft. I could only afford one night here. Tomorrow, I’d start hunting for a cheap apartment.

Then a sudden knock came through my door. I jumped up and opened the door. A red-faced bellboy stood there, sweating like crazy. I straightened up, trying to act all proper.

“Oh, sorry about all the bags. They’re… kinda heavy, you know,” I said in a fake British accent.

Pfft. Cringe. The British accent really doesn’t suit me. We’re in the Philippines, for crying out loud. People are so extra sometimes.

“It’s my job, ma’am,” he said politely.

I just smiled and opened the door wider so he could bring everything in. With the amount of clothes and shoes I had, the poor guy looked ready to faint. I tipped him generously, then flopped back onto my bed.

Where would I even start looking for an apartment tomorrow? Screw it. I’ll leave it to fate.

I stretched my arms and yawned. The room was cozy, the AC was humming, and for the first time in forever, I felt… safe.

But my stomach? Yeah, not so much. It was screaming.

“Ugh, fine,” I groaned, dragging myself up. I grabbed my sling bag and decided to find something to eat nearby.

The moment I stepped outside, the island air hit me—warm, salty, and comforting. I pulled my hoodie over my head, kept my head down, and started walking along the narrow street lined with beach cafés and stalls.

I stopped by a small food hut and ordered pancit and lumpia. I was halfway through my second bite when—THUD.

Someone bumped into me again, making my fork fly from my hand and hit the ground. My pancit almost followed.

“Seriously?!” I snapped, already annoyed.

“Oh. You again.” a deep, calm voice said above me.

I looked up. It was him. Mr. Tall and Rude. He was wearing a simple white shirt now, paired with black joggers. Hair a little messy, jawline sharp enough to cut through traffic.

“You're stalking me, aren’t you?” I raised a brow.

He blinked. “You bumped into me this time.”

“I was standing still!”

“You were in the way.”

“Wow. Rude and blind. What a combo,” I muttered.

A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes, but it was gone in a second.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?” I asked, confused.

He bent down, picked up my fallen fork, and handed it to the food stall lady. “For saving your pancit. You almost face planted into it.”

“I’d rather fall into my pancit than talk to you.”

He smirked. Finally—an actual reaction. That smug smile annoyed me more than his bump.

“Are you always this feisty?” he asked, clearly entertained now.

“Only when I run into human speed bumps.”

He chuckled—low and short—but it made the air around us shift. He’s got a nice laugh. Ugh, stop it, Lyka.

“I’m Zach,” he finally said.

“Good for you.”

“Your turn.”

“No thanks.”

“You don’t have a name?”

“I do. I just don’t give it to strangers who don’t say sorry.”

“Oof. Fair.”

He held his hands up in surrender, then stepped back.

“Well then, Not-Lyka, enjoy your dinner,” he said with a wink before turning away.

Wait. Did he just—

I froze.

How the hell did he know my name?

I whipped around to ask—but he was already gone, swallowed by the crowd.

What the—was he guessing? Did he overhear someone? Or was I in serious trouble?

I stood there, chopsticks in hand, eyes scanning the road like some spy thriller heroine. Oh no. This trip just got a whole lot more complicated.

KYRAN'S POV

"Ma, please! Cut it out, okay? I'm hanging up now." I ended the call and let out a heavy sigh.

We always argue about the same thing—she wants me to get married again. I just can't put myself through that mess right now. Marrying someone I barely know feels like a job, and not the fun kind. It's stressful. My daughter is all I need to be happy, and I have no plans of falling in love again.

I stepped out of the limousine and straightened my coat.

"Welcome, Sir. Table for how many?" The waiter greeted me.

"For two," I replied.

"Master Kyran?" My butler's voice called from behind me.

"Yes?" I asked, confused.

He looked visibly distressed.

"Lady Ashley was rushed to the hospital. She might've eaten something bad."

“s**t!” I cursed under my breath, panic gripping my chest. I immediately rushed out of the hotel.

"Cancel all my appointments today!" I barked.

I grabbed the keys to another car and jumped in, flooring the gas.

I practically flew to the hospital. Once inside, I went straight to the information desk and asked for my daughter’s room. As soon as I got the number, I dashed for the stairs—no time for elevators. When I reached her room, I burst in and found my mother sitting by her bed.

"Why are you panting?" she asked, brows furrowed.

I shook my head and went straight to Ashley.

"How is she, Ma?"

"She’s doing better now, son."

My fists clenched in frustration. "What’s the point of having two maids if this still happened?"

I love my daughter more than anything. I can’t afford to lose her.

"Kyran, calm down—"

"No," I snapped, brushing off my mom’s attempt to soothe me.

I called home and spoke to the head maid. “Fire those two. I don’t want to see their faces again.” I hung up.

Back in the room, my mother was cradling Ashley. I walked over and gently took my daughter in my arms.

"How are you, baby? Feeling better now?" I cooed.

She smiled at me, and relief washed over me.

"Son… maybe now’s the time to accept what I’ve been telling you. Ashley is growing up so fast. She needs a mother who’ll take care of her. Don’t take it the wrong way—but you can’t do this alone forever."

I sighed, defeated. “Then choose someone who’ll love her the way I do.”

She smiled and kissed my cheek, clearly pleased I finally gave in. I just hope I won’t regret this later.