Marked Confidential

Cassandra Sy prided herself on her professionalism.

She was efficient and meticulous and never let emotions interfere with work. She had built an empire with relentless focus, making a name for herself as a force to be reckoned with in the industry. No distractions, no unnecessary indulgences, just precision and control.

So it was absolutely unacceptable that she was currently gripping her phone like it had personally betrayed her.

Cassandra’s phone buzzed again. She barely glanced at it, but when she saw the name flash on the screen, her eye twitched.

My Wife, My Problem ❤️

She exhaled sharply. Again?

She was certain the last time she checked, it was just Adrielle. C lean, professional and safe. But, of course, her wife had other plans. When did she even change it?

Her fingers hovered over the edit button, debating whether to change it back, but another notification popped up. This time, it was a link.

A TikTok link.

Cassandra frowned. What now?

Against her better judgment, she tapped it. And immediately wished she hadn’t.

Instead of a text. Instead of an emoji filled complaint. Instead of something manageable..

What she got was war.

Adrielle, lips slightly parted, expression smug, eyes locked onto the camera. The lighting was perfect and the angle, lethal. There was no movement, no unnecessary theatrics just her, exuding the kind of effortless magnetism that had driven Cassandra insane for years.

The video was silent. And that was the problem. Cassandra didn’t know what music was playing, only that it was doing something to her.

Her throat felt dry. Why was she sweating?

A cough from the other side of the table snapped her back to reality. The client.

Cassandra blinked, straightening in her seat. Had she reacted? Did she just visibly short circuit in front of one of their most important accounts?

"Are you alright, Cassandra?" the woman asked, tilting her head with an amused smile. Too amused.

Beside her, Liv had already turned her head, staring.

And then nudge. A firm, knowing kick under the table.

That little traitor knows.

Cassandra cleared her throat, locking her phone and setting it face down like it hadn’t just attempted to kill her. Professionalism. Control. Focus.

"I’m fine," she replied smoothly. "Just—something urgent. Excuse me for a moment."

She barely gave them time to respond before she pushed back her chair and strode toward the nearest hallway, phone already in hand.

Meanwhile, Liv was having the time of her life.

She had seen it all. The widening of Cassandra’s eyes, the slight parting of her lips, the visible short circuiting of the Cassandra Sy.

A rare sight. A beautiful sight.

Then came the best part: the immediate excuse to leave.

Oh, Adrielle definitely did something.

Liv watched as Cassandra all but power-walked to the hallway, barely holding it together. Then, as discreetly as possible, she leaned toward the client with an apologetic smile.

"Mind if I step out for a moment? Just a quick check-in."

The client barely looked up from her phone. "Of course. Take your time."

Perfect.

Liv took exactly zero seconds to hesitate before standing and casually following Cassandra at a safe distance.

By the time she turned the corner, Cassandra was bracing herself against the wall, staring at her phone like it held the meaning of life.

Liv silently took out her own phone.

The moment Cassandra pressed play, Liv hit record. Then, she heard it.

"Say my name, say my name~"

Oh. OH.

Liv had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from cackling.

Because Cassandra, the Cassandra Sy, feared by many, was currently gripping her phone like it was a live grenade. Her jaw had gone slack. Her entire soul had left her body.

Liv was thriving.

Then, the moment Cassandra sucked in a sharp breath, Liv immediately texted Adrielle:

Mission success. Target has been neutralized. Immediate extraction not needed, she’s already dead.

Adrielle’s response was instant.

Good. Send me the footage.

Back at home, Adrielle grinned.

Attached: (1) Video.

She clicked it immediately.

And there, frozen, looking like she had just experienced a crisis of faith—was her wife.

Adrielle cackled. You’re so dead, Moja.

She was already waiting for Cassandra’s inevitable counterattack. But for now? She’d enjoy her victory. And replay that video one more time.

Cassandra, meanwhile, had other plans. She barely skidded to a stop in the hallway, bracing herself against the wall as she unlocked her phone with a vengeance. Her fingers flew across the screen, typing out the only appropriate response.

Cassandra: DELETE IT.

Her breathing was uneven. She was a woman of control. A professional. And yet, here she was, barely holding onto her sanity because of one stupid video.

A few seconds passed. No response. Then, her phone buzzed again. Another link.

Cassandra glared at the screen. She shouldn’t open it. She knew she shouldn’t. But she did. And immediately wished she hadn’t.

The video started.

A slow, rhythmic whistle filled the air smooth and effortless, the kind that carried an unfair amount of confidence.

Then—Adrielle.

Dressed in black satin. The dress clung to her in all the right places, the fabric catching just enough light to highlight the high slit on her left side. Effortlessly elegant. Ridiculously stunning.

She walked forward a few slow, measured steps towards the camera. Then, with a practiced ease, she raised a hand, fingers threading through her hair before pushing it back. A glance to the side. A subtle check.

Then—a twirl.

The satin flowed with her, the movement sharp, precise, intoxicating. And just as Cassandra’s brain fully processed what she was witnessing, the video cut.

Cassandra stopped breathing. For a full two seconds, there was nothing. No thoughts. No logic. Just destruction.

Her grip on the phone was tight enough to crack something.

Her pulse? Ruined.

Her schedule? Destroyed.

Her sanity? Gone.

And before she could stop herself..

Cassandra: What do you want?

The response was immediate.

Adrielle: Just making sure you don’t forget what’s waiting for you at home, Cass. 😘

Cassandra was going to lose it. Her meeting was in ten minutes. Her brain was already elsewhere. And worst of all? Adrielle knew exactly what she was doing.

Later that night.

Adrielle had just finished setting the candles glowing, wine opened to breathe, and every little detail taken care of when the front door slammed open.

Adrielle barely had time to turn before Cassandra stormed in, looking dangerous.

Oh.

Adrielle swallowed. Hard. She had expected Cassandra to be flustered, maybe even sputtering.

What she had not expected was this. Hair slightly tousled from the rush, breathing uneven, eyes dark with intent.

Cassandra shut the door behind her without breaking eye contact. Adrielle was about to make a snarky remark about traffic laws and reckless driving when Cassandra took a slow, deliberate step forward.

Oh.

Adrielle backed up instinctively. Her calves hit the dining chair. She was in trouble. Cassandra tilted her head, her voice low. "You think you're funny, huh?"

Adrielle did think she was funny. At least, she had. Past tense. Now? She was re-evaluating her life choices.

Cassandra took another step, her gaze locked in. Adrielle sucked in a breath, pulse skyrocketing.

"Cat got your tongue?" Cassandra mused, fingers grazing the table. "Or did you forget how words work?"

Adrielle swallowed.And then, at the very last second—

She smirked.

"Make me."

Cassandra didn’t need to be told twice.

The moment the words left Adrielle’s mouth, Cassandra was already closing the distance, one hand bracing against the edge of the table, the other curling around Adrielle’s wrist.

Adrielle barely had time to react before Cassandra was right there, her presence overwhelming, her gaze locked in like a calculated threat.

Adrielle's smirk faltered, but only slightly. She had started this game. And she wasn't about to back down.

Cassandra leaned in, voice low, dangerous. "Say that again."

Adrielle held her ground, lifting her chin just enough to keep the balance of power teetering between them. "Make me."

Cassandra exhaled sharply, half amusement, half something much, much darker.

Adrielle was good at pushing buttons. She knew exactly which ones to press, how hard to press them, and just how far she could go before Cassandra snapped.

And right now? She had pushed too far.

Cassandra's fingers tightened around Adrielle’s wrist, her thumb brushing slow, deliberate circles against her pulse point. The touch was deceptively gentle, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air.

Adrielle's heart stuttered.

The air between them was charged, heavy with anticipation, thick with something neither of them had the patience to name.

Cassandra's eyes flickered down just for a second, but Adrielle caught it.

Her dress.

The slit.

The very thing that had ruined Cassandra’s focus all day.

Adrielle’s smirk returned. "Distracted, Cass?"

Cassandra let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "You really don’t know when to quit, do you?"

And then, with a swift, calculated motion, she pulled.

Adrielle let out a startled gasp as Cassandra yanked her forward, their bodies colliding, heat radiating between them.

A sharp intake of breath.

A pause.

And then—

"Dinner’s getting cold," Adrielle murmured, though her voice had lost its usual confidence.

Cassandra tilted her head. "I don’t care."

Silence.

Then—

Adrielle laughed. Low, warm, teasing. "You’re ridiculous."

Cassandra smirked. "And whose fault is that?"

Adrielle didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Instead, she closed the distance herself.

And just like that—

Game over.

Cassandra knew she had to play this right. Adrielle, still in peak pettiness mode, was lounging on their couch, wrapped in Cassandra’s hoodie, flipping through a magazine with zero intention of acknowledging her wife’s presence.

It was the kind of silent treatment that wasn’t really silent just pointed.

Cassandra exhaled, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching her. Adrielle was predictable in the best way. She knew her wife was waiting.

Waiting for Cassandra to say something.
Waiting for Cassandra to make up for working on their anniversary.

She tapped her fingers against her mug, debating her approach. Then, deciding, she grabbed her coffee and crossed the room, settling onto the couch beside Adrielle.

"Come with me."

Adrielle didn’t even glance up. "Hmph. Where?"

"Siargao."

A flicker of interest quickly masked. Adrielle turned a page, feigning indifference. "Work?" she asked flatly.

"It’s an important meeting," Cassandra admitted.

Adrielle hummed. Still not looking at her. "So you’re asking me to come on a work trip?" she said, voice light but laced with judgment.

Cassandra smiled softly. Leaned back against the couch, letting their shoulders brush just enough to test the waters. "I’m asking you to come with me."

Adrielle’s fingers stilled against the magazine. A breath. Just a little deeper than before. Cassandra caught it. Shifted closer.

"A few days. Just us. No distractions and no meetings once it’s done. Just you, me… and the ocean."

Adrielle finally turned her head, eyes searching. "Hmm… tempting."

"I already packed your favorite bikini," Cassandra murmured, amused.

Adrielle’s brows lifted. Caught. Then, a slow, dramatic sigh. "You’re impossible."

"I know."

Adrielle closed her magazine with a soft thud. "And you’re making up for missing our anniversary?"

Cassandra tucked a loose strand of hair behind Adrielle’s ear, her fingers lingering against her cheek. "I always do."

A beat.

Then, Adrielle melted. Just a little. Just enough.

"Fine," she huffed, nudging her forehead against Cassandra’s. "But I’m still mad."

Cassandra chuckled. "I know."

Adrielle narrowed her eyes. "You better spoil me."

Cassandra smiled. "Always."

And just like that, she won.

The sky was painted in deep hues of orange and violet as the sun dipped below the horizon, the sound of gentle waves filling the air. The private villa tucked away in a secluded part of Siargao was just as breathtaking as it had been years ago. The place where Cassandra had proposed. The same place where Adrielle had counterproposed right after, because of course she had.

Cassandra stretched her legs out on the sunbed, watching as Adrielle waded into the private infinity pool, the ocean stretching endlessly beyond it. The setting was perfect, quiet, secluded, and breathtaking.

Adrielle turned back, smirking. “You look relaxed. I assume that means you finally accept that I was right to sulk?”

Cassandra rolled her eyes, sipping her drink. “You were being dramatic.”

“I was being neglected,” Adrielle corrected, placing both hands on the edge of the pool. “Our fourth anniversary, and you spent the day working.”

Cassandra sighed. “It was one meeting—”

“It was a six-course meal of betrayal.”

“Adrielle—”

“But since I am a forgiving wife, I will allow you to make it up to me. In fact…” Adrielle waded closer, resting her arms on the pool’s edge, golden eyes gleaming. “I’ve been thinking. Do you know what our past anniversaries all have in common?”

Cassandra leaned back, wary. “A loving wife and a patient wife?”

Adrielle snorted. “Disaster.”

Cassandra knew she shouldn’t take the bait, but— “What disaster?”

“Oh? You want a recap?” Adrielle’s grin was dangerous. “Let’s start with Year One when you got drunk and sang My Heart Will Go On at full volume.”

Cassandra groaned. “That’s an exaggeration.”

Adrielle raised a brow. “Liv has the video.”

“…I will sue her for defamation.”

“And then, Year Two—oh, this was my favorite,” Adrielle sighed dramatically. “You somehow booked us a haunted villa.”

“It was not haunted,” Cassandra shot back. “It was a budget-friendly beachfront rental—”

“The lights flickered, there were weird noises, and something whispered my name at 2 AM, Cassandra.”

Cassandra sipped her drink. “Maybe it was the wind.”

Adrielle narrowed her eyes. “Maybe it was your final warning before I left you there alone.”

Cassandra chuckled, but before she could steer the conversation elsewhere, Adrielle straightened. “Oh! And then there was Year Three—”

“We are focusing on the present,” Cassandra interrupted swiftly.

Adrielle gasped in mock offense. “You mean you don’t want to talk about how you accidentally double booked a corporate retreat on our anniversary, and we ended up spending the weekend with your business partners?”

Cassandra muttered, “They were lovely people…”

Adrielle tilted her head. “We had to share a villa with five senior executives, and one of them sleep-talked about quarterly reports.”

Cassandra sighed. “Okay. Fine. The past three years were not… ideal.”

Adrielle hummed, expectant. “And?”

Cassandra set her glass down, standing up. “And… I’m making up for it.”

She walked over to the small table set under the soft glow of lanterns and picked up a sleek black box and a paper bag. Instead of returning to her sunbed, she picked up their towel and made her way to the edge of the pool, sitting down and dipping her feet into the cool water. The contrast between the warmth of the evening air and the gentle waves brushing her skin was oddly grounding.

She handed the box to Adrielle. "Open it."

Adrielle raised an eyebrow but unwrapped it, revealing a delicate gold necklace with a tiny charm shaped like their Siargao villa. She examined it with interest before giving Cassandra a knowing look.

"You sentimental fool," Adrielle murmured, rubbing her thumb over the charm.

Cassandra smirked. "Four years ago, I proposed to you right here. I wanted you to have a reminder. A place that’s just ours."

Adrielle swallowed hard, pretending the warmth in her chest wasn’t completely melting her resolve. "You really love me, huh?"

Cassandra scoffed. "Unfortunately."

Adrielle rolled her eyes but grinned, about to put the necklace on herself when Cassandra stopped her.

"Here," Cassandra said, shifting closer. "Let me."

Adrielle turned, gathering her wet hair to the side as Cassandra unclasped the chain and leaned in, fastening it around her neck. Her fingers brushed against Adrielle’s skin, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The quiet rustle of the waves, the distant hum of cicadas, and the warmth of Cassandra’s touch all seemed to still time itself.

Cassandra lingered for just a second longer before letting her hands drop. "There. Perfect."

After Cassandra puts the necklace on Adrielle, she pulled herself out of the pool while Cassandra handed her the towel. Adrielle smirks and reaches under the sunbed, pulling out a sleek, custom-made leather case. She places it on Cassandra’s lap with a triumphant grin.

"Your turn," Adrielle says.

Cassandra raises a brow but unties the ribbon, flipping open the case. Inside sits a luxurious, limited edition fountain pen—matte black with gold accents, engraved with Cassandra’s initials.

Cassandra blinks. "A pen?"

Adrielle leans forward, her smirk deepening. "Not just any pen. It’s a custom Montblanc, designed specifically for the most intense business negotiations." She winks. "Figured if you’re going to sign terrifyingly expensive contracts, you should at least look good doing it."

Cassandra huffs a laugh, running her fingers over the engraving. "Alright, I’ll admit. It’s sleek."

"But wait, there’s more." Adrielle reaches into the case and pulls out a folded sheet of high quality parchment paper, handing it over. "Before you say I’m being sentimental, this is purely for balance. You got me something heartfelt, so…"

Cassandra unfolds the paper and snorts.

At the top, written in Adrielle’s elegant script, is a handwritten IOU contract.

Official Agreement

I, Adrielle Elise Hidalgo, hereby grant Cassandra Min Sy one (1) free pass to drag me away from work under any circumstance, no questions asked.

Fine print:

• Does not include meetings with the board of directors (I am not getting fired for love, Cass).
  
  
• Does not include family gatherings where I am actively dodging chismosas.
  
  
• Does not include situations where I am already dragging you away first.
  
  
• Must be used wisely (preferably before I find a loophole and void it).
  
  

Signed,
Adrielle Elise Hidalgo-Sy

Cassandra shakes her head, biting back a grin. "A legally binding contract, huh?"

Adrielle tilts her chin up proudly. "I knew you’d appreciate the effort."

Cassandra taps the parchment. "And if I decide to use this tomorrow?"

Adrielle shrugs. "Then I guess we’ll just have to see where you take me."

Cassandra glances at the pen, then at the contract, before looking back at her wife, smiling, golden-eyed, absolutely impossible.

She shakes her head, laughing. "Best mistake I’ve ever made."

After Cassandra finishes reading the contract, Adrielle grins and pulls out a sleek, customized music box but instead of a classic tune, there’s a tiny engraved button inside.

Cassandra raises an eyebrow. “High-tech music box?”

Adrielle smirks. “Press it.”

Cassandra does and immediately, a familiar voice fills the air.

"Hey, love. It’s me. Obviously." Adrielle’s recorded voice plays, laced with amusement. "This is your personal audio diary, curated by yours truly. A collection of moments, thoughts, and random things I never want you to forget."

Cassandra blinks, then listens as snippets of Adrielle’s voice continue:

"December 14 – You beat me at chess for the first time. I am convinced you cheated."

"March 3 – You were up at 2 AM working again, so I started playing sad songs just to guilt-trip you into sleeping. It worked. You’re welcome."

"June 21 – You looked really good in that suit today. I almost made us late because I got distracted."

"September 10 – You told me you loved me in your sleep. Twice. I have evidence."

The messages are a mix of soft confessions, playful teasing, and random little moments Adrielle had secretly recorded over time. Some are heartfelt, some are ridiculous, but all of them are so Adrielle.

Cassandra’s lips parted slightly, her fingers brushing over the small device. “You… recorded all of these?”

Adrielle tilts her head. “You’re always busy. I figured if there were days you needed a reminder, you could just press play and hear me.”

Cassandra swallows. “That’s…” She exhales. "That’s unfairly sweet."

Adrielle grins. “I know.”

Cassandra huffs a soft laugh, shaking her head as she tugs Adrielle closer. “You’re impossible.”

Adrielle leans in, whispering against her lips, “But you love me for it.”

Cassandra sighs, feigning defeat then kisses her.

Adrielle pulls after and touched the charm lightly, her lips curling into a small smile before she turned back around. “Now, what’s this?”

She pushed the paper bag toward Cassandra, eyes glinting with anticipation. Cassandra leaned back, watching as Adrielle carefully opened it.

Inside was a photo album, but not the polished, aesthetic kind. Instead, it was filled with candid photos of Adrielle caught in the most chaotic moments. Each photo had a handwritten caption in Cassandra’s neat script.

At first, Adrielle laughed at the ridiculous ones. Her, drooling in her sleep on her laptop, "CEO, but make it exhausted."; her, aggressively gesturing mid rant, "Thinks she’s intimidating. (She’s not.)"; her, stuffing food into her mouth like she hadn’t eaten in days, "CEO or starving college student? Hard to tell."; her, glaring at Cassandra with the intensity of a thousand burning suns, "Angry wife. Cute though.". 

But as she flipped further, the laughter quieted. Because the next pages weren’t just chaotic snapshots. They were moments Adrielle hadn’t even realized Cassandra had captured. Her mid laugh during a lazy morning coffee run, fully immersed in a book, sketching absentmindedly in her work studio.

And beside each photo, in Cassandra’s sharp but careful handwriting, were little notes:

August 5 - You spent the whole afternoon sketching. You didn’t notice me staring, but you looked so focused. It was unfairly attractive.

September 18 - You got annoyed at the neighbor’s karaoke session and sang louder just to drown them out. You were off-key. It was adorable.

Adrielle felt a lump in her throat. She swallowed. “You—”

Cassandra shifted, suddenly looking uncharacteristically shy. “I wanted to give you something that says I see you. Every day. Even when I’m busy, even when I get caught up in work—I see you.”

Adrielle stared at her, then at the journal. She closed it gently and took a breath. “I love it.”

Cassandra smirked. “I know.”

Adrielle swatted her arm. “You just had to ruin the moment.”

Cassandra chuckled, then pulled out one last envelope, slipping it into Adrielle’s hand.

Adrielle unfolded it, her eyes widening. "A week in Santorini?"

Cassandra’s smirk deepened. "Uninterrupted. No work calls. Just us."

Adrielle stared at her, then grinned. "So you’re finally learning."

Cassandra sighed. "No. I’m just tired of being terrorized by my own wife."

Adrielle kissed her, laughing against her lips. "Well, get used to it, love. You’re stuck with me."

Cassandra tightened her grip around Adrielle’s waist, smirking. "Best mistake I’ve ever made."

And as the sun set over Siargao, reflecting golden hues on the water, Cassandra realized...

Yeah. This year, she got it right.