MISTAKEN BRIDE IDENTITY

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

LYKA’S POV

Here I am, sitting in front of Kyla who’s been pacing non-stop in front of me. Since she was discharged from the hospital, she’s been back to her usual hyper self—and is now acting like a drill sergeant giving me lectures.

Honestly, her words are all jumbled in my head.

“Stop!” I interrupted, throwing both hands in the air.

“What now?” she asked, confused.

I handed her the brand-new phone that auntie Helen had just bought me. I needed props, after all.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Save all your hobbies in the memo. You type them—I'm too lazy,” I said, frowning.

She rolled her eyes but started typing, copying from a handwritten list. After a few minutes, she was done and handed me the phone.

“Fast typist,” I commented.

“Of course! Now, this is the exciting part,” she said with a gleam in her eyes.

She opened a folder dramatically like she was about to reveal national secrets.

“Your groom is Kyran Liam Eidenberg, twenty-nine years old, CEO of Airvoice Company headquartered in Italy—he owns it, by the way. He has a branch here in the Philippines, which he also manages. He’s half Italian, half Filipino. A billionaire, highly influential in business circles, stands 5'10”, and became a widower early when his wife passed away giving birth to their daughter, Ashley, who is now one year old.”

She paused.

“That’s all?” I asked.

“Oh wait—he’s insanely handsome. Total bachelor vibes. But without the luxury suits, he looks like a dreamy boy-next-door.”

I bit my lower lip. I suddenly felt so small. The world really has no shortage of Greek gods, huh? Bahala na si Superman.

“Let’s go, Lyka! Time to practice!”

I groaned as I slipped on the high heels. I walked like a baby deer on ice—awkward and off-balance.

“Lyka! Walk straight! Chin up! Walk with poise!” Kyla coached.

“Okay, okay!”

I tried fixing my posture but couldn’t concentrate properly. I was too nervous—even if I haven’t met the guy yet.

“What’s that for?” I asked, pointing to a stack of thick books.

“If you keep messing up, I’ll balance these on your head!”

“WHAT?!”

“Are you deaf?”

I rolled my eyes. “If I didn’t love you, I would’ve backed out by now.”

“Well, I love you too, so behave!”

Ugh. I finally fixed my walk, my outfit, and even allowed her to do my makeup. Piece of cake—kinda.

“Wow! You’re amazing!” she praised.

I stuck my tongue out at her playfully before changing back into comfy clothes. I’m now living in their beach house here in Davao while preparing for the big switch.

“Your engagement party is this Saturday,” she reminded me, “and after the wedding, you’ll be living in Tagaytay. Kyran owns a huge mansion there.”

I suddenly felt like running away.

“I’m so sorry for putting you in this situation,” she said, tearing up.

I shook my head. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you—or to Tito and auntie. I don’t want to bring shame to the family.”

She hugged me tightly.

“Can we stop crying already?”

She nodded and smiled.

“You’re so chubby now,” I teased.

She gave me a playful scowl.

Ugh! How am I going to survive this?

THAT night, auntie Helen decided to dress me up. I was left alone in the guest room. I stood in front of the full-length mirror, still dressed in one of Kyla’s designer gowns. I couldn’t recognize the girl staring back at me. The makeup, the heels, the elegance—it wasn’t me. But it had to be.

My phone buzzed. A message from auntie Helen.

“We’ll pick you up tomorrow at 9 AM sharp for your engagement prep. Be ready.”

I gulped. Ready? I don’t think I ever will be.

Game on, Lyka. Let the masquerade begin.

DAYS PASSED by unnoticed. Here I am now inside the house, nervously waiting. Today’s the day I’ll finally meet the man I’m supposed to marry. Auntie Helen told me Kyran would pick me up personally, but he’ll ride in a different car with his staff.

“Just be yourself, darling,” Mommy Helen said gently. Mommy. I have to get used to calling auntie Helen Mommy now since I’m pretending to be Kyla. I gave her a small smile.

“Sis, don’t act like you’re attracted to him. Pretend you’re totally unaffected by his insane good looks,” Kyla whispered while giggling, then left me standing there.

I just raised a brow at her and tried to breathe slowly.

“Ma’am, Sir Kyran has arrived,” the maid announced.

I quickly composed myself and fixed my posture on the couch. Moments later, a man in a tailored suit—who I assumed was Kyran’s butler—walked in… followed by him.

And oh my God! This man is a walking Greek god. I almost forgot how to breathe.

“Hello, Mrs. Willson,” Kyran greeted politely.

Even his voice—it’s deep and rich like a lead vocalist from some famous rock band.

“You should start calling me Mommy,” Mommy Helen corrected sweetly.

“Of course! Hello Kyla, nice meeting you—finally,” Kyran turned to me.

He smiled, but I could tell it was forced. Still, I gave him my widest smile, even though my knees were shaking and my palms were drenched in sweat.

“Nice to meet you too, Kyran,” I replied, barely holding it together.

“So, shall we?” he offered, extending his hand.

I nodded and allowed him to guide me out of the house. The moment his skin touched mine, it was like a jolt of electricity surged through my body. I had never felt this kind of… whatever this was. My sweat was practically pouring now.

We both got into a limousine and sat across from each other. As we drove, I could feel his intense stare like a blade on my skin. He was studying me—really studying me. His earlier gentle aura shifted into something more... powerful. Predatory.

Was he trying to intimidate me? I tried to meet his gaze with equal force, pretending to be confident. I couldn’t back down now. Not when everything’s on the line.

I turned my eyes to the window to avoid cracking under the tension.

“Stop the car,” I said firmly.

He blinked, clearly surprised by my sudden command. But he complied.

“Wait a second,” I added and stepped out of the limo dramatically, crossing the street with quick steps.

“Mike!” I called out.

“Big sister!” the little boy lit up when he saw me.

He rushed toward me and hugged me tightly. I didn’t care that he was dirty or sweaty—I hugged him back like I’d been starving for warmth.

“What are you doing here on the street?” I asked, worried.

“Mom and I moved after you left,” he said, voice small.

I sighed and pulled out ten thousand pesos from my wallet.

“Go home now. Here’s my new number. Don’t tell mother we saw each other, okay?”

He nodded quickly. “Bye, big sister!” he chirped and kissed me on the cheek before running off.

Suddenly, a group of street kids came up to me, asking for spare change.

“Here, here’s a thousand—split it fairly!” I told them with a wink.

“Thank you, miss!” they chorused.

Smiling, I crossed the street again and climbed back into the car like nothing happened.

Kyran stared at me with eyes full of confusion. I shrugged and looked away, pretending not to notice.

KYRAN’S POV

I looked at her in disbelief. She stepped out of the car without hesitation just to talk to those street kids. I watched her hug that dirty little boy like he was family. She didn’t even flinch when the others asked her for money. She's kind. Generous. Brave. There's a softness in her that felt... foreign to me.

Maybe Mama made the right choice. I haven’t even read her file yet, but I can tell—there’s more to this woman than meets the eye.

WHEN we arrived at the venue, I got out first and helped her out of the car. Her hand was still sweaty. I squeezed it gently, trying to steady her nerves. She didn’t react, only smiled widely as we walked in together.

Everyone’s eyes were on us. We made our way to the center table and sat side by side. I tried to play the role of the charming fiancé, but honestly? I was bored out of my mind.

“And now, let’s call the couple for their first dance,” the emcee said enthusiastically.

I stood and reached for her hand. She followed me to the dance floor. We began to move to the slow music, our bodies barely touching. She was light on her feet, elegant, graceful—and silent. Still not talking to me.

I leaned in a little, close enough to smell the light floral perfume she wore. There was tension in her shoulders. She was pretending, just like me. But what was she hiding? Why does she act so detached?

Everyone joined us on the floor soon after. We danced quietly, lost in our own thoughts. I didn’t know whether I felt intrigued or annoyed. Maybe both.

An hour later, the party ended. Everyone came over to greet us, congratulate us, and wish us luck on our wedding.

But my fiancée? She just kept smiling, like a well-trained mannequin. She didn’t speak. Not to them. Not to me.

She was weird.

Weird… and interesting.

We left early. The car ride home was silent. Uncomfortable.

When we reached her house, I got out first and opened the door for her.

“Nice meeting you again, Kyran. See you at the wedding,” she said sweetly—and kissed me lightly on the cheek.

I blinked. What?

“See you at the wedding too…” I muttered, confused.

I stood there, watching her disappear into the house. That small kiss on the cheek? It wasn’t romantic. It was calculated. Like she was following some kind of script. This woman… is a puzzle.

And I intend to solve her…