My Toyboy 1
My Toyboy 1
"Want to go another round?" the man whispered, his voice a deep, sultry melody that wrapped around Cynthia Jones like velvet, tinged with a flicker of unfulfilled desire.
Cynthia's gaze fell to the floor, where the remnants of their passion lay scattered—her delicate lace lingerie tangled with his tailored suit, the torn fabric of her dress crumpled in disarray, and a pair of high heels positioned like forgotten tokens beneath the couch.
"No, I'm tired," she murmured, feigning nonchalance. He had stamina—she had nearly cried out for mercy only moments ago. Yet, her fingers, betraying her resolve, began to trace the solid contours of his abs, marveling at the warmth of his body.
He captured her hand, his voice a tantalizing mix of temptation and challenge. "Don't tease me. I might lose control."
Cynthia laughed, making her enchanting face more vibrant. Her luminous eyes sparkled like stars, and her lips, bold and crimson, promised more than just playful banter. Cascading blonde waves framed her sun-kissed skin, accentuating the beauty mark that adorned the corner of her eye, lending her an almost ethereal allure.
The man stared at her intensely, consumed by an overwhelming urge to pounce on her again.
"Come on! If I can't touch you anymore, I'll miss it more than you know," she teased, that infectious grin illuminating her face.
Instantly, the man froze. The temperature in the room plummeted as his expression hardened. "What do you mean?" Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.
Cynthia tossed aside the thin blanket, rose to her feet, and swiftly dressed before she retrieved a check from her bag and approached him. "Honey, here's five million dollars as compensation, and
you can keep the villa too."
The check slipped into his palm like a quiet ultimatum. However, his response was a volatile mix of confusion and anger.
"Cynthia, are you trying to break up with me?" His voice dropped low, barely concealing the storm brewing beneath the surface.
Cynthia remained composed, her hand lifting his chin tenderly as she pressed a swift kiss against his lips. "My husband is back, so I can't keep playing this game. Let's call it quits."
The man's expression darkened, shadows flickering across his face—a mixture of hurt and rage.
"Sweetie, if you ever need anything in the future, just give me a call," Cynthia whispered, planting another soft kiss on his perfect lips.
Then she turned, bag in hand, and left the room. Just a few steps away, a crash shattered the quiet behind her, but she didn't look back. Instead, a resigned smile graced her lips.
She had kept him as a secret lover for three years, what had felt real had only ever been a mirage —an illusion of affection that never quite held its ground. Still, she knew the suddenness of this breakup might be hard for him.
After exiting the villa, Cynthia drove straight to the airport. Filip Yates, her husband—who had spent the last three years overseas entwined with another—was returning, succumbing at last to the unyielding pressure of family.
"Cynthia, even though we've known each other forever and dated for two years, I don't have any feelings for you."
"I only love Lilian. If it weren't for my grandfather's pressure, I wouldn't have married you at all."
"I won't touch you. That's my promise to Lilian."
"The only thing I can give you is the title of Mrs. Yates. If you can't stand being alone, feel free to find a boyfriend. I won't interfere, and of course, you can't interfere in my relationship with Lilian."
These were the exact words Filip had uttered on their wedding night, and even after three years, the echoes of that night remained fresh, haunting Cynthia with every syllable.
The Jones and Yates families shared a strong bond that had lasted three generations. The heads of each family were best friends, and when it came to Cynthia's generation, the Jones family had a daughter while the Yates family had a son. From the moment they were born, their parents had planned for them to be engaged.
To support their relationship, Cynthia and Filip were practically inseparable as kids. They spent holidays together, switching between each other's homes. As they got into college, their friendship naturally turned into a romance—until Lilian Sheppard came along.
Cynthia didn't realize it, but she had inadvertently pushed Filip into Lilian's arms.
Lilian had been their high school classmate—a shy girl from a humble background who excelled academically. She was the only student at their elite school to get direct admission. Like a small rabbit dropped into a lion's den, she often faced bullying from entitled classmates.
Cynthia hadn't hesitated to defend her, even getting into fights when necessary. It was during those tough times that they grew close, becoming best friends. Fate led them both to the same university afterward.
As Cynthia's high school best friend, Lilian naturally became friendly with Filip too, but at that point, there was no romantic spark.
During the summer break of their sophomore year, Cynthia and Filip signed up for a summer camp organized by their school. Just before they were set to leave, Cynthia twisted her ankle and decided to give her spot to Lilian.
At first, Filip didn't want to go either, but Cynthia encouraged him to join, worried that Lilian might face bullying again. Ironically, looking out for each other led their relationship to blossom.
Just as Cynthia was going through the darkest time—when Shirley, the real daughter of the Jones family, returned—Filip broke up with her to declare his feelings for Lilian.
Heartbroken, Cynthia made a drastic decision—she attempted to take her own life. Thankfully, she survived, and it set off a series of unexpected twists in her situation.
Filip's parents, were devastated to see Cynthia suffer so much. After all, they had considered her their daughter-in-law since childhood. And Matthew, Filip's grandfather, even forced Filip to marry Cynthia by threatening him with family shares.
But just two months later, Filip applied for an exchange program at Yela University and left for Amiroca with Lilian, and that was three long years ago...
*****
The car pulled up to the airport, and Cynthia quickly snapped back to reality. Today, Matthew had asked her to pick up Filip. She checked her watch—she was right on time. Looking up, she spotted Filip wheeling a suitcase out of the terminal.
Dressed in a crisp white shirt and black slacks, he looked as handsome as ever, radiating sophistication that turned heads. But the moment he spotted Cynthia, his expression soured.
Cynthia stepped out of the car, a bright smile on her face. "Hey, hubby! Long time no see. Hope you're doing well," she called, and her voice—honed from her days in broadcasting—flowed
smoothly with a flirtatious tone. Even passersby couldn't help but glance over, enviously eyeing Filip beside her.
But Filip's frown deepened as he studied her. She was stunning today, as if she'd dressed up just for him.
Cynthia looked different from three years ago. Back then, she had a fresh-faced innocence, but now? She was glamorous and confident, her waves of hair cascading over her designer outfit, exuding luxury and elegance.
"Don't call me that," Filip said coldly, his eyes shifting to Lilian.
She wore a loose white cotton dress and hadn't put on any makeup, but her naturally shy and innocent features made her look surprisingly sweet. She clung to Filip's arm with one hand, while her other hand rested protectively over her slightly rounded belly—a gesture that was hard to overlook.
Cynthia raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk creeping onto her lips. "Are you pregnant, Lilian?"