But drama isn’t always found in enemies; sometimes, it’s found in the mirror.
As the weeks passed, Clara began to withdraw. She felt like an ornament. When Sebastian was “Baste,” she was his strength, his hands, his caretaker. Now that he was Sebastian, he was the sun, and she was just a moon reflecting his light.
One night, she found him in his private gym, lifting weights with a ferocity that bordered on pain.
“Why do you still work so hard at it?” she asked. “The suit is gone. You’ve already won.”
Sebastian dropped the weights with a thunderous clang. He turned to her, sweat slicking his chest, his eyes dark. “Because I can still feel it, Clara. I can still feel the weight. I can still hear the laughter of people like Vanessa. I spent three years being a ‘pig’ to see who would stay, but the truth is, I became that person. I’m afraid that if I stop, the mask will become my reality again.”
Clara realized then that Sebastian’s disguise hadn’t just been a test for others—it was a prison for him. He was obsessed with perfection because he was terrified of being rejected again.
“You’re still wearing a suit, Sebastian,” she said softly, walking to him and placing her hand over his pounding heart. “This muscle, this face… it’s just another disguise to keep people from hurting you. You don’t have to be a billionaire or a monster or a god for me. I liked the man who needed me.”
The climax of their drama came when Sebastian’s company faced a hostile takeover orchestrated by Vanessa’s family and a group of disgruntled investors who felt “deceived” by his charade. They sued him, claiming his psychological state made him unfit to lead.
The court case was a circus. They brought in psychiatrists to argue that his “fat suit” was a sign of a fractured mind.
Clara took the stand.
“They call it a delusion,” the opposing lawyer sneered at her. “Tell us, Mrs. Montemayor, isn’t it true your husband forced you into a marriage under false pretenses? Isn’t it true he is a manipulator who enjoys wearing masks?”
Clara looked at Sebastian. He looked vulnerable, his hands gripping the mahogany table.
“He didn’t force me to love him,” Clara said, her voice echoing in the courtroom. “The world is full of people who pretend to be kind while being monsters. Sebastian is the only man I know who pretended to be a monster just to see if kindness still existed. If that’s a sickness, then I hope it’s contagious.”
The lawsuit was dismissed. But the victory felt hollow until they returned home.
Epilogue: The Soul’s Reflection
A year after their anniversary, there was no grand party.
Clara and Sebastian sat in a small garden they had planted themselves. There were no servants, no masks, and no debts. Sebastian had stepped down as CEO, handing the reins to a trusted board, choosing instead to run a foundation that provided reconstructive surgery for burn victims and those with physical scars—people who, like his “Baste” persona, were ignored by the world.
Clara was no longer the “servant girl.” She was a partner.
“Do you ever miss him?” Sebastian asked, leaning his head against her shoulder as the sun set. “The big guy? The one you had to feed?”
Clara laughed, a sound of pure gold. “Sometimes. He was very good at cuddling.”
Sebastian smiled, and for the first time, it wasn’t a “handsome” smile or a “monstrous” smile. It was just a man’s smile.
“I realized something, Clara,” he whispered. “The world dreams of the man I am now. But I only ever dreamed of the woman who would love the man I was then.”
In the end, the “Pig Billionaire” didn’t just find a wife; he found a mirror that showed him he was enough, with or without the skin. And Clara? She learned that the greatest wealth wasn’t the 50 million pesos that paid her father’s debt—it was the heart she had found hidden beneath a mountain of lies.
