Owned By Mistake

"What is going on here?!"

The voice of Dean Lee boomed through the office like a thunderclap. His expression darkened the moment he caught sight of Cherry and Mister Martinez, her face pale, his hand still too close to hers.

Behind him stood the university's board of directors, and in front of them all, like a towering figure of judgment, was Gilbert Ace Carter.

He wasn't supposed to be here for this. Gilbert had only come for the groundbreaking ceremony of a new building donated by Ace Carter Group of Companies. And now, here he was, witnessing something that could ruin both the university's image and Cherry's.

The color drained from Martinez's face as panic surged through him. He couldn't afford to lose his job. Not now, not when someone like Gilbert Ace Carter was watching.

Desperate, he straightened up and bowed quickly.

"I-I apologize for the misunderstanding, Mr. Lee. Miss Blaire has been pursuing me. I've rejected her several times, but she keeps insisting. I was trying to talk to her about boundaries."

Lies. Every word of it.

Cherry froze.

Her breath hitched. Her stomach twisted into knots. She stared at the man in disbelief. He was turning the blame on her, making her look like the predator.

Before she could even open her mouth to defend herself, Gilbert's cold voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"It seems the quality of your students needs serious reevaluation."

He didn't wait for a reply. He didn't look at her.

He simply turned and walked out the door, his face unreadable, his rejection clear.

Cherry's heart sank. That one comment from Gilbert crushed her more than anything Martinez could've said. He believed it. He actually believed she would stoop that low.

The other officials exchanged glances, faces hard with judgment. No one gave her a chance to speak.

"Fix this mess, Mr. Lee," said one of the directors sharply, his tone brooking no argument.

"Y-Yes, sir!" Dean Lee replied with a nervous bow.

Once the men filed out, the room was left cold and silent, just Cherry, the dean, and Martinez. Still reeling, Cherry remained rooted in place.

"What are you still doing here?" Dean Lee suddenly barked, his finger stabbing through the air. "Get out of my sight!"

Something snapped inside her.

Cherry slowly lifted her head. Her fists were clenched tight, but her voice came out steady, firm.

"Dean Lee, Mister Martinez is lying. None of what he said is true. He's the one who made advances toward me."

Dean Lee scoffed, already turning away.

"You think anyone will believe you now, Miss Blaire? After what Mr. Carter saw? You've brought disgrace to this university!"

Cherry's throat tightened. Her eyes stung, but she refused to let the tears fall.

"I know what he saw. But that wasn't the truth."

She turned to Martinez, who dared to look smug.

"I don't care if none of you believe me now. But one day, you'll see what kind of person he really is."

With all the dignity she could gather, Cherry turned and walked out.

She didn't look back.

"What are you saying, Miss Blaire? You were the first to come to me. You admitted you liked me from the start."

Mister Martinez's voice was calm, too calm for someone who had just been caught. His eyes were smug, his tone filled with mock innocence.

"You're lying!" Cherry's voice cracked with rage and disbelief. "I didn't do anything wrong,"

"Get out of my sight!" Dean Lee's voice roared, cutting her off.

Cherry froze. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. She looked from the dean to Martinez, two men in power, twisting her truth into a weapon against her.

With clenched fists and tears brimming in her eyes, Cherry turned and stormed out of the office. The hallway blurred before her, and she barely made it to the nearest restroom before collapsing against the sink.

Why is this happening to me? she thought. What did I do to deserve this?

The next morning, the university posted a formal notice regarding the "incident" between Cherry and Mister Martinez.

Disciplinary Action: Scholarship Revocation

It was like someone had punched her in the gut. Just like that, everything she had worked for in her future was ripped away.

She rushed to the dean's office, clutching the notice in trembling hands.

"Please, Dean Lee, this isn't fair," she pleaded. "You didn't even give me a chance to explain."

Dean Lee didn't even flinch. He stared at her with a rehearsed kind of indifference.

"It's not a simple violation, Miss Blaire. Our university's image was tarnished because of you. Be thankful we didn't expel you. We only revoked your scholarship. You should consider that mercy."

Mercy? That word echoed in her head like an insult.

Cherry sat alone on the farthest bench in the university courtyard, the notice crumpled in her lap. The sun was out, but her world felt dark and suffocating. She bit her lip to stop the sobs from escaping, but it was no use.

She cried until her chest hurt.

That scholarship wasn't just a ticket to her dreams, it was her survival. It was her brother's future. Without it, how could she continue?

Luke was still unconscious in the hospital. The doctor had said he needed further observation, and the medications he required were expensive; some had to be bought every day.

Her savings? Gone. Her hope? Fading.

While other girls her age posted selfies with milk tea and cake, Cherry clung to one meal a day, usually just bread from the corner bakery, washed down with water from the public tap.

She didn't have room for dreams. Only survival.

But even now, even in her darkest hour, Cherry wiped her tears and reminded herself: I can't give up. Luke still needs me.

She tried everything, every single day. But why did it always feel like the world was pushing her down harder?

Her brother's medical bills were piling up like bricks on her chest. The loan she had taken out was another rope tightening around her neck, and her mother, well, Cherry had stopped expecting anything from her. Her mother only looked out for herself.

Cherry sat hunched on a park bench under the dying afternoon sun, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. She kept everything in because there was no one to share the weight with. In this world, she was her only ally.

After crying until her head throbbed and her eyes swelled, Cherry finally stood up and decided to go back to her boarding house. She needed to wash her uniforms and reset, even just a little.

When she entered their shared room, her boardmate and close friend Abby looked up from folding laundry and gasped, "Oh my God, sis. What happened? You've been crying."

Cherry tried to brush it off with a smile, but Abby wasn't buying it.

"Cherry, talk to me."

So she told her about the university revoking her scholarship, about the false accusation, and how she had no idea what to do anymore. Her voice cracked as she spoke, but she kept going.

Abby didn't hesitate. She stood up, walked to her bag, and pulled out her wallet. Then she handed Cherry her ATM card.

"There's ten thousand in here. Use it."

Cherry's eyes widened. She immediately shook her head. "Abby, no. I can't take that. You're also supporting your family. You worked hard for this."

"I know," Abby said with a soft smile. "That's why I'm not giving it to you. I'm just lending it, okay? Pay me back when you can. Don't overthink it."

Then she pulled Cherry into a hug and gently rubbed her back.

Something inside Cherry cracked again, but this time, it wasn't from pain. It was gratitude. Overwhelming, soul-deep gratitude.

"Thank you," she whispered, voice trembling. "Thank you so much, Abby. I'll never forget this."

"Ugh, don't make me cry, sis!" Abby said with a laugh. "Like the song goes,'That's what friends are for.'"

Cherry smiled through the tears. "I'll pay it back once my loan's approved. I promise."

"No rush. Seriously," Abby replied. "Actually, if you need more income, come work with me."

Cherry blinked. "Where?"

"We're short on waitresses at the Imperial Hotel and Casino. It's just a three-hour shift,500 pesos a day plus tips. You in?"

Cherry paused, then slowly nodded. "Yes, Yes, I'm in."

It wasn't glamorous, and it wasn't easy. But it was something. And in that moment, it felt like a little lifeline had been tossed into her sinking boat.

At the very top floor of the Imperial Hotel and Casino, one of the most prestigious establishments in the country, sat a private VIP lounge reserved for the elite. It was where the wealthiest and most powerful came to unwind after long days of dominating boardrooms and headlines.

Gilbert Ace Carter sat like a king on the long leather sofa, cigarette resting between his fingers, his other hand lazily draped on the armrest. His legs were crossed, his back straight. Everything about his posture exuded quiet dominance, effortless elegance, and undeniable power.

He didn't speak much, but he didn't need to. His presence alone was magnetic.

Even the waitresses serving nearby tables couldn't help but glance at him, their eyes drifting toward the tall, sharp-jawed man in the dark tailored suit. There were many influential men in the room, but Gilbert stood apart. He didn't try to draw attention; attention followed him.

"Baby, wipe your drool," Knox joked to one of the waitresses who'd been caught staring. She blushed and quickly stepped back, bowing in embarrassment.

Beside Knox was a curvy, beautiful woman clinging to him, giggling into his shoulder.

"Look at me," Knox teased, grinning. "I'm handsome too, you know."

The woman wrapped around his arm laughed. "Don't worry, babe. For me, you're the most handsome."

Knox lifted a brow smugly and pulled her in for a kiss. "That's my girl."

He was one of Gilbert's oldest friends from college, heir to a luxury car distribution empire. Out of their group, Knox was the loudest, most playful, and by far the biggest womanizer. He never left a party without someone new on his arm.

Across from them, Eros sipped his whiskey and shook his head. "Bro, chill. Just make sure she's not underage. We're not bailing your ass out of jail."

Knox laughed, unbothered. "You know I check, man. I'm not that reckless."

Still, his hand casually slid over the girl's chest. "Besides, who could say no to this?"

Gilbert didn't comment. He was watching the room in silence, smoke curling from his lips, his mind clearly elsewhere.

He hadn't come here to drink or to flirt.

Unknowingly, he was about to run into someone who would turn his night, and his beliefs, upside down.

"Speaking of minors," Eros leaned back in his seat, swirling the whiskey in his glass as something seemed to click in his memory. "Last week, a patient came into the ER. Looked like she was barely out of high school. She was bleeding, said it was her first time."

Knox raised an eyebrow. Gilbert kept his eyes on his drink, silent.

"She was dazed. Didn't even know what was happening," Eros continued. "I asked who did it. She said it was her husband, but he shook his head. "She was way too young for that. I thought she might be a victim of abuse, but before I could question her further, she ran off. Left the ER without a word."

Gilbert's brow subtly furrowed. Something about Eros's story hit too close. That night from a week ago flashed in his mind, her tear-streaked face, the trembling, the raw pain. That girl. She had begged him to stop.

But he hadn't.

To this day, he still doesn't know who she was. She'd vanished by morning, leaving behind only the echo of her cries.

Eros's phone rang, cutting the tension. He answered quickly, then sighed. "Emergency at the hospital. I've got to go."

Gilbert gave a small nod. Knox rolled his eyes. "You really need a new life, man. All that money and you spend it inside operating rooms?"

Eros smirked as he stood. "Not all of us are content signing documents all day. Some of us do something useful."

As he turned toward the exit, the lounge door opened.

A waitress stepped inside, carrying a tray with a bottle of expensive red wine and two crystal glasses.

Cherry.

The moment she saw someone coming, she quickly stepped aside and lowered her head in respect. She didn't want to cause trouble on her first day, especially after Abby had gone through so much to recommend her for this job.

Eros paused mid-step.

He glanced at the girl. There was something familiar, her face, her posture. A flicker of recognition stirred, but before he could dwell on it, his phone rang again. He answered it and walked out, the thought fading as quickly as it came.

Cherry exhaled quietly, unaware that she had just brushed past the one man who could uncover everything she was trying to hide.

And across the room, Gilbert Ace Carter slowly lifted his eyes and fixed them on the waitress by the wine cart.

He didn't blink.

That scent. That profile. That subtle flinch when someone walked too close.

Something inside him stirred, dark, heavy, and undeniable.

He didn't know who she was yet.

But he would soon.

"Good evening, Sir. Here's your drink," Cherry said softly, placing the bottle of expensive wine and a glass filled with ice on the table with careful hands. Every movement she made was practiced and cautious, she couldn't afford to make a mistake, not on her first day.

Gilbert didn't usually bother responding to service staff. Compliments, greetings, they all blurred together. But the moment he heard that voice, his head snapped up on instinct.

His eyes locked onto the waitress.

She was wearing the hotel's signature uniform, a white long-sleeved blouse tucked into a black skirt that ended a few inches above her knees. The blouse was a little loose, but as she moved, it clung to the curve of her waist. Her long legs and delicate features added a soft contrast to the sharpness of the outfit. It should've looked flirtatious, but somehow, she wore it with an innocence that disarmed the room.

Gilbert stared. Unmoving. Expression unreadable.

Cherry looked up as she poured the wine, and nearly dropped the bottle.

Her breath caught in her throat. Why is he here?

A wave of panic surged through her chest. She quickly looked down, heart hammering in her ribcage. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to run, but her feet stayed planted. Her hand trembled slightly as she filled the glasses, doing everything she could to avoid Gilbert's gaze.

She didn't want to mess this up. Not this job. Not tonight.

After she finished pouring, she bowed slightly, ready to turn away, but a sharp voice halted her.

"Hey. Stop right there, little girl."

She froze.

Her eyes flicked toward the man who'd spoken. Mr. Evans. She spotted his nameplate on his lapel and forced a small, polite smile.

"Your name is Cherry?" he asked, eyes sweeping over her as if inspecting merchandise.

Cherry gave a slow, respectful nod. "Yes, sir."

"Then pour some wine into this glass," he said, lifting his empty glass with a smirk.

For a moment, Cherry didn't move. She was still recovering from the shock of seeing Gilbert. The delay didn't go unnoticed.

Knox scoffed loudly. "Are you deaf? What are you standing there for? Pour the damn wine like you were told."

Cherry's hand tensed around the bottle, her stomach twisting in embarrassment. She reached for the glass, her eyes still avoiding Gilbert's, but she could feel him watching her.

And it wasn't just the stare of a curious customer.

It was colder.

Sharper.

As if he were trying to remember her.

Or, as if he already had.

At that moment, every man in the lounge turned his attention to Cherry.

She didn't have to say a word. Just standing there in that crisp uniform, eyes lowered, shoulders slightly hunched, she radiated something the others didn't, purity. Something untainted. And in a place like that, where indulgence was currency and boundaries blurred by the hour, her presence was jarring.

It made them all look.

The other waitresses had long since adapted to the rhythm of the lounge, some were openly flirtatious, others knew how to disappear into the background until they were summoned. Many of them were already seated beside guests, glasses in hand, legs crossed just right, waiting to be chosen for the night.

But Cherry,

Cherry only poured wine.

She didn't giggle. Didn't lean in close. Didn't seek attention.

Which, ironically, drew even more of it.

Eyes followed her every move as she shifted slightly, hands still wrapped around the neck of the wine bottle. Her lashes lowered as if she could block out the weight of the stares. But the truth was, she felt it. She felt everything, especially his eyes.

Gilbert Ace Carter.

Still watching her.

Still silent.

There was something dangerous in that stillness. He hadn't said a word since she'd entered. Not even when Knox barked at her. But Cherry knew that silence wasn't calm. It was a calculation.

Does he recognize me?

Did he already know I was here?

Her pulse quickened. She dared not lift her head, afraid of what she might see in his expression. Pity? Disgust? Worse, recognition.

And yet, she remained rooted.

Because she couldn't afford to run anymore.