Chapter 49 49

Chapter 49 49
Chapter 49 

“What happened? Is it just me, or is there really something off with the atmosphere between Miss Sonia and Sir Fabian today?” Tania asked, eyeing the couple. They all noticed Sonia frowning and Fabian looking like his face couldn't be painted—it was expressionless, unreadable.

“Did Mommy and Daddy Fabian have a fight?” France asked, pausing mid-bite of his potato chips. This was new to him—he had never seen his mom and dad fight before.

The question made Vladimir uneasy. It reminded him of the constant fights between his biological parents, Mommy Sonia and Daddy Victor.

France glanced at Vladimir and immediately saw the worry creeping in on his face.

“Don’t worry. Daddy's soft when it comes to Mommy Sonia. He won’t be able to resist her,” France said calmly. Vladimir looked at him and asked if that was true. France simply smiled in response.

France then reached for a can of juice on the table and stepped up on the chair before handing it over to Sonia.

“Mommy, can you open this for me?” France asked sweetly.

Sonia instinctively took the can but struggled with the tab because of her long nails. She had just been styled earlier, making it harder to grip anything properly.

Fabian noticed the moment and scooted his chair closer to Sonia, took the juice from her hand, and—keeping his expression stoic—opened the can for their daughter.

“Stop messing around, France. Your mom's in a dress,” Fabian lightly scolded, and without thinking, he grabbed a tissue and carefully wiped Sonia’s fingers.

Sonia tried to stop herself from smiling. Fabian suddenly paused—seemingly realizing that he was supposed to be mad.

He quickly dropped the tissue, cleared his throat, and pushed his chair back. But before leaving, he slid the wet wipes and tissue container closer to Sonia’s side.

France turned to Vladimir with a smile.

“Told you, Dad’s soft,” he said with a teasing grin as he returned to his seat.

Tania and Jomari, sitting at the next table working on some paperwork, chuckled at the scene.

Soon after, everyone was called for script reading. Fabian and Sonia entered the meeting room together. Fabian went in first but didn’t proceed to his seat—he stood by the door, waiting for Sonia to enter before joining her. Some of the newer artists in the room couldn’t help but giggle and whisper.

A few of them were visibly shocked when Sonia introduced herself and was revealed as the lead actress.

“What’s the meaning of this? Sonia’s been gone for years, and she just snags a big lead role like that? Is this favoritism again?” one muttered.

The whispers started circulating. But instead of being affected, Sonia stayed calm and took her seat.

“If any of you have issues with the casting, maybe you should take it up with the casting directors,” Fabian said sharply, taking the seat directly in front of Sonia.

“And since you’ve got so much to say… think you can handle playing Alice’s character?” Fabian added, glancing directly at four newcomers who had just entered and were part of the earlier gossip.

The four girls swallowed nervously. Their expressions softened, and the smugness quickly disappeared. Amara rolled her eyes, watching how the bullies suddenly turned into sheep after Fabian defended his wife.

—

The script reading went smoothly. As expected, those four girls were cast as Alice’s friends in the drama.

“Miss Sonia, have you read through all parts of the script? Is there a particular scene you’d like to act out here?” one of the directors asked.

I stood up immediately and lightly tapped Fabian on the shoulder. He stood as well.

I glanced at him. He still looked like he wasn’t in the mood and was likely still jealous about what had happened earlier. I had one scene in mind, but I decided to change it at the last minute. This one could let me win him over and show the directors our chemistry.

I handed him my script. Fabian paused for a moment. I don’t know if I was just imagining it, but I saw the corner of his lips lift slightly before he cleared his throat.

“Alright, I’m ready,” Fabian said coolly.

I dropped the script and suddenly, I was the one feeling nervous. This is crazy.

I cleared my throat, watching Fabian as he grabbed a bottle of water.

“What is it you really want, Alice? Are you ever going to stop haunting me?”

Fabian’s voice was hard, his jaw tight, his glare intense. He pointed the bottle at my throat—the prop standing in for a knife in this scene.

At this point, Florencio (Fabian’s character) was brainwashed and had no memory of Alice being his wife.

“You really don’t remember me? Florencio, it’s me—Alice!” I said, voice laced with heartbreak. I reached out to hold Fabian’s wrist, but he pulled away sharply.

“You’re not my wife. Stay away from me!” Fabian shouted, clutching his head as if in pain. His performance was gripping—no wonder he always won Best Actor awards.

“Florencio!” I cried.

Fabian pushed me, and I staggered toward the table. I almost hit it, but I trusted him completely. Before I could fall, Fabian pulled me by the waist, pressing me gently against the table’s edge. He now stood in front of me, eyes locked on mine.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Fabian said, voice heavy with sadness and pain.

“I don’t know you. I don’t remember you. Why can’t you just accept that and leave me alone?” he added.

I leaned back slightly, hands behind me on the table for support. My gaze softened—I looked at him with real affection, not just as Alice, but as me. Sonia. Loving him.

“I love you, Florencio.”

Fabian paused. I placed my hand on his neck and kissed him gently on the lips.

He froze for a moment, then his lips parted, and he kissed me back. His expression turned darker—eyes burning with longing—and before I knew it, I was lying on the table. That snapped me back to reality. We were in the middle of a room full of people!

“Ow!”

I accidentally bit Fabian’s lip a little and pulled back, blushing furiously.

I stayed seated on the table, glancing around. Everyone in the room was wide-eyed, jaws hanging open.

I covered my face with my hands. Was that still acting? Especially the last part?

“Whew! That almost turned into a live show,” someone whispered, fanning themselves.

A few cast members chuckled, and some directors looked thrilled with the performance.

“I think this project will go smoothly. Our main characters have a 100% compatibility rate. No doubt the drama’s viewership will skyrocket worldwide,” said one of the directors, beaming.

I smiled at the compliment and looked at Fabian. He just pursed his lips, seemingly indifferent to all the praise. It was like he didn’t care what they said—he looked like he just wanted to take me home.

I shook my head. He always acted like this in private. But today, there was something different—like a possessive kid licking a candy just so no one else would take it.

Wait… am I the candy? I thought, remembering the kiss.

Fabian suddenly burst out laughing. I turned toward him, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s so funny?”

He leaned closer and grinned.

“You’re easy to read.”

My face flushed.

“Let’s continue that thought later tonight,” he whispered.

“Fabian Martinez!” I exclaimed, cheeks burning with embarrassment. I called him by his full name, but he only laughed harder.

He stood up and said he was heading out to meet with his manager. He told me to wait in the tent.

Before leaving, he kissed me on the forehead and reminded our kids not to run around or misbehave.

Once Fabian left, I turned to look at our children who were busy looking around the site.

“Mom, can we have fried chicken for dinner?” France suddenly asked.

“I want some too! With lots of gravy!” Vladimir added, raising one hand eagerly.

I chuckled and said, “Alright. I’ll cook at home so you can eat as much as you want.”

I tried to remember if we still had chicken in the fridge. Probably—we mostly cooked fish and vegetables lately.

“Okay, but make sure you eat lots of fruits too,” I reminded them.

The two raised their hands in unison. “Yes, Mommy!”

“Sonia, someone left this for you.”

I turned and saw Lance holding out a sunflower bouquet.

“Who’s it from?” I asked, taking the flowers. There was a small card, but no name.

“I’m not sure. Someone handed it to your bodyguard outside, and I took it to bring inside. Maybe it’s from one of your fans?” Lance said, peeking at the card.

Most fan gifts were teddy bears or roses. A sunflower bouquet was definitely unusual.

“This is the first time I’ve received sunflowers,” I muttered, feeling a strange sense of unease.

Lance laughed. “Maybe it’s from Fabian?”

“Mom’s favorite is lily, and there’s no way Dad doesn’t know that. He orders flowers for her every day and puts them in their room,” France chimed in, inspecting the bouquet.

I placed the flowers on the table and asked my assistant to find a vase for them and set them in the middle. Maybe I’m just overthinking it, I told myself.

“What are you looking for?” France asked Vladimir, who was peering under the table.

“My mini fan. I can’t find it,” he answered.

“Here, use mine for now. It’s not that hot anyway.”

France handed over his fan from his bag.

I looked at Vladimir and said gently, “Honey, next time make sure your things are organized so you don’t misplace them.”

Vladimir nodded apologetically. “Sorry, Mommy.”