Cassandra literally jumped out of her bed, pillows and all. "Dammit!" she snapped her head at the direction of the door which was banging just a few seconds ago. "What?" she groaned.

"Open the door," Philip's authoritative voice said from the other side. Cassandra's eyes narrowed. She knew he was always bossy, but that side of him was quite forgotten when they were in their honeymoon and now that they were back—and at his territory—he was worse.

"I'm still having a hangover from my dream!" she shouted as she swung the door open.

"What dream are you talking about?" He seemed surprised that she was still in her sleeping outfit which was an oversized shirt and a pair of boxers.

"The one where I was burying you in the woods after cutting your throat," she said, pursing her lips, her eyes unwavering.

"You were sleeping?" he ignored her last statement and stared at her incredulously.

She stared at him sarcastically. "No, I was just messing with you...of course I was sleeping!"

"It's already ten in the morning and you haven't fixed breakfast yet."

His statement made her freeze. "It's ten?"

Philip looked at her intensely, his freshly shaven face showing signs of impending outburst. "Yes, and there are still the dishes you promised to wash yesterday but chose to forget. And then there's the lawn—"

"Okay! I get it!" she slammed the door at his face.

"I'm not done talking!" his voice was muffled by the heavy door.

"I heard enough! And I'm getting ready!" She hurriedly changed her clothes. She better get breakfast ready so he'd shut up. Then she'd do the dishes before she left. The lawn would have to wait for tomorrow. Ah, yes, tomorrow will be Tuesday so he'll end up with the lawn.

Once properly dressed, she stormed out of her room and bumped against her husband who must have caught the morning glory all for himself because he smelled just wonderful and looked—well, angry, obviously—stunningly fresh and handsome. "What?" She immediately stepped away before she could think of having him for breakfast instead of the planned ham and eggs.

He looked down at her outfit. She was wearing a black shirt and a pair of dark pants. "Are you going out? I thought I said you can't go out today?"

"Am I prisoner here?" she arched her eyebrow.

"No, but the chores are in the contract and you should follow them."

"You and I both know there is no contract so stop talking about it! And who fool would ever think of including stupid things like household chores in a contract?" she asked incredulously. "Oh, yeah, it's you."

"I took you for my wife for a reason..." he said coldly, stepping closer so their chests were only inches apart, "and I need order inside my house. It's only fair that while you stay here, we divide the work."

"Whatever you think you are doing for taking me as your wife, I don't really care because as far as I know, no one here is wise enough to trust me with their stupid secrets, my father included!" She circled around him.

"Cassandra," he called behind her.

"Don't worry, babe, I won't get out of that blasted front door!" she shouted. He was unbelievable and despicable! He was not going out of this house because he worked here and he expected her to do the same? Was it because of his secret with her father?

She stomped down the stairs to the kitchen.

"You can go out only during your free days," he said behind her rather gently. "Or after you do all of your work."

"Yeah, whatever..." she opened the freezer to get some eggs. "I understand your urge to control everything around you and it includes me, right? Because for you I'm just a thing you want to run around over your palm."

"That's not what I'm trying to do," his voice was etched with irritation once again.

She whirled around to face him. "Then what was the agreement with my father all about? Why are you helping him? Is it part of your philanthropic projects? Or is it when you decided to help my dad, you thought at the last minute, 'Oh, I would like to have a wife to do my bidding!' and so you asked for me?" She slammed the door of the refrigerator and finished, "Well, news flash: You got the wrong wife."

"This is just for six more months while we fix things and with your stay here, I want you to respect my decisions—if not as a wife, as my companion here."

"Ugh!" Cassandra cried out. "I want to try to understand and act like an adult here, Philip, but you are making it impossible. You guys are leaving me in the dark and now you expect me to blindly follow. Just...leave me alone, okay? I still have to process the thought that I will be a full-fledged housewife M-W-F and S." When he simply stared, his jaw tight, she added, "What? You want to tell me the whole story or what?"

He stared at her for a long time before walking out of the kitchen and into his study.

She fixed some eggs and ham. She cared less because she was planning a great lunch with Harrison later.

Thinking of Harrison, a lot of thoughts came to her mind and one of them was how she'd tell him everything.

But again, that was not the problem she had to worry at the moment because she had to get out of the house first without Philip noticing. Of course she could just walk out the door, but her husband's office was overlooking the front lawn, so it was out of the question. And knowing her husband, he would never let her out with all the work she had to do first. And she had seen the chart he gave her. It was worse than any homework she ever did in high school.

When she was done cooking, she mustered a smile as she made her way to his office and knocked. She had to be nice for even just a few minutes.

"Come in," her husband's cold voice called from inside the room.

Cassandra opened the door a crack but did not go in. She felt uncomfortable getting inside his office. She didn't know why, but his office was like his most personal space and she didn't feel like invading it. At the very least, she still had the decency to respect his space. "Breakfast is up."

*****

Philip was bewildered at her smiling look and the fact that she did not enter the office was even more startling for him.

He nodded. "I'll be right there."

Cassandra forced a tiny smile and said, "Okay!" and closed the door.

After a few seconds, Philip caught up with her in the hall. "Are you okay?" She was acting weird. Again.

"Yes, of course." She answered without turning around to look at him.

When they reached the kitchen, Philip frowned. "Ham and eggs. I shouldn't be surprised."

"Just eat," she sat on her chair and attacked her food.

Philip did the same, but with a suspicious look on his face as he continued to stare at her.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, why won't I be?"

His face turned incredulous. "Just a few minutes ago, you were talking about murdering me and burying my body in the woods."

"I don't stay mad that long." She waved off.

Philip did not believe her. As someone who had faced different individuals from all forms of life in the business, he could easily read what she must be feeling at the moment.

She was being rebellious because she felt betrayed. She would try to outsmart him by doing exactly the opposite of what he wanted.

Her father should have told her everything, he thought. He could tell her but he did not know what Kurt Anders might be inclined to do if he did. And he did not want to risk Cassandra doing anything that might cause Henry's operations to fail.

All Philip could do for now is the very same thing he promised her father: keep her safe.

After their breakfast, Philip said, "Mom's coming over with my grandparents for dinner." He looked at her doubtfully. "Is it possible that you can fix something meatier?"

She shrugged and said, "Yes, of course."

"Okay..." Philip's voice was etched with so much doubt now. "They're arriving by seven."

"No problem." She got up and started clearing the table.

He stared at her for a moment, his face curiously suspicious. He got up and walked back to his office, totally at a loss.

He may think he had her all figured out, but he could still not predict everything she might do.

She is not planning to escape, is she?

*****

Cassandra blew out the breath she had been holding and hastily washed all the dishes. When she was done, she ran back to her room, locked the door, and checked her phone.

"Shit," she muttered when she read Harrison's text: I'm on my way.

She grabbed her boots and bag and walked inside the bathroom. Her heart hammering wildly now, she stood there looking at the big glass window beside the tub.

"This is it," she murmured as she opened the window and looked down. It was the only window in her room that had the safest landing below. It was quite a jump, but it was safer than the window outside.

Cassandra carefully maneuvered herself into a sitting position, her legs dangling out the window. Next, she hunched lower to let her head and upper body out and she held her breath before she closed her eyes and made the leap.

*****

"How long?" Philip nearly roared at the phone.

"Why do you keep asking, Philip?" Henry Bell asked. "We agreed six months, didn't we?"

"A shorter time than that will be much appreciated."

"Oh, then please remind me who stumbled into such a big mess?" was his friend's sarcastic retort.

"The guy who is giving you your fucking work, that is who."

Henry chuckled at the other end of the line. "Six months, Philip. You keep her, we make Anders happy. Anders being happy means me completing my job. It is that simple, my friend. Anders did a pretty good bargain. Live with it."

"She is starting to ask questions, Henry."

"Now you get a glimpse of my life. Live with it."

He replaced the phone over the receiver without as much of a goodbye and closed his eyes. Pinching the sides of his nose, he urged himself to breathe.

Six months.

However could he live with her for six more months?

*****

Cassandra ran, her left leg limping. She did not land perfectly, but at least her limbs were still intact. She glanced over her shoulder at Philip's now distant house and prayed that he wouldn't notice she was gone just yet. When it was out of site, she finally stopped and bent with her hands on her knees, breathing heavily. She needed to exercise more often if she was going to stay with Philip for the next six months.

Once her breathing was back to normal, she took her phone and dialed Harrison. As the call connected, she saw a white SUV appear from the bend on the road ahead of her.

"Hey! I see you!" Harrison's voice said when he answered. "Hang on," he disconnected just as the white SUV stopped in front of her and the window of the passenger seat opened.

Cassandra smiled at the familiar blonde guy who was already beaming at her from ear to ear.

"Climb on!" Harrison's deep happy voice said. She walked to the back door and climbed in.

*****

"You have to tell me what's happening with you," Harrison's pale green eyes looked at her seriously. His boyish look always amazed Cassandra ever since because it had always made people want to trust him. Not that they shouldn't, of course. His cool attitude polished his personality perfectly. And though he's not as tall as Dennis or Philip, Cassandra knew women dig him—especially when they find out he's a doctor. "Cass," he urged once again.

They were outside at the terrace of a restaurant back in the city having lunch.

"I'm married." She hadn't honestly figured out how to tell him so she decided to say it out front. "The article you saw on the news was me."

Doubt initially crept up his face, then disbelief and then his mouth slightly opened. "You have to be kidding me."

"No, I'm not. I'm really legally married." She used to play jokes on him years ago and she regretted it now. It was hard to make people believe you when you were finally telling the truth.

"When?"

"About two and a half weeks?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Some strands of his straight blonde hair fell in front of his eyes as he leaned forward to look at her intently, studying her eyes to see if she was actually serious.

"I never intended to."

Hurt flashed across his features and he said, "Why?" Now, she could tell he finally believed her.

"Because it's not like any marriage," she said slowly.

"Explain," he stated seriously, his eyes boring into hers.

Cassandra took a deep breath and narrated her whole story. When she was done, Harrison was already on his feet, his face angry. It was the first time she saw his face flush with so much fury and Harrison rarely had his emotions to the extremes.

With narrowed eyes, he sat back in his chair and said, "Why the hell did you agree?"

"I just had to, Harry. Dad asked for my help and this is how I am supposed to be helping him or myself as what he said," she explained in a neutral voice. "And," she stopped him before he could say another word, "it's just for another six months. So don't worry, I can handle this."

"You should have called me," he reached out to hold her hand. "I could have helped. Is your dad in trouble?"

Cassandra shook her head. "No, you couldn't have. The deal was already made even before they told me and yes, I think he is in trouble but I don't know the details. They won't tell me."

Harrison looked at her seriously for a long time and then that smile she knew very well crept up his face. "So..." he leaned back against his chair. "How's married life?" he teased.

Cassandra couldn't hide her smile. He was trying to make light of things as he always did. "It is hell," she answered in the same teasing manner.

"Seriously?"

"Nah...it's fun but of course, it's not like any normal marriage."

"How could it be fun?"

"Philip and I fight a lot over small things and I enjoy it most of the time."

Her friend laughed. "Because you always win?"

"Most of the time, yes."

Then he frowned. "But he doesn't do anything stupid, right? Nothing to be alarmed of?"

"No, of course not. He's quite the gentleman. I think his true role in this stupid arrangement is to keep me safe from whatever trouble he and my dad are in. And he's doing a pretty good job keeping me safe, I guess." She didn't know why she was defending Philip all of a sudden.

"I missed you, Cass." His sudden change of subject almost confused her.

She cleared her throat and said, "Yeah, me too."

Harrison sighed, shaking his head at whatever he was thinking. "You know, you should have accepted my proposal a year ago. If you did, you won't be married to a stranger," he said it teasingly.

"He's not really a stranger anymore." God, she should stop defending her stupid, arrogant husband.

"Are you sure? He could be doing something while you're gone."

"He's working."

"Then why did you have to meet me a long distance away from your home?"

"I...needed a walk," she reasoned.

"Cass, is he keeping you inside his home against your will?" another flash of anger crossed Harrison's face. "Is this what you mean by 'keeping you safe'?"

"What? No, of course not!" She was not going to tell Harrison about the problems she was having with Philip. He was already mad as it was. "Let's not talk about me and my transient marriage. Tell me about you. What have you been doing? Dating someone?" she pointed her fork at him.

"No, no someone..." he looked at her meaningfully. "I've been waiting for you to reconsider and I guess I have to wait for another six months." He gave her a boyish grin that made his pale green eyes glitter.

Cassandra sighed. "Harry, my answer a year ago stands firm."

"You told me you were not ready. If you'll not be ready six months later, I can wait some more time. I know Dennis will understand...hell, he was the one who told me to—"

"Let's not talk about Dennis, please."

"What? Why? It's been two years, Cass. God, the man's probably not coming back."

"Don't say that. He was your friend. He is still your friend."

"Yeah, I know that. But that does not change the fact that I still hold a grudge over his sudden decision to leave you a day before your wedding. You've forgiven him, but you can't still get over him." He could have received a blow from her if he said it a year or two ago, but now, she was not anymore as affected.

"I can't ever forgive myself for what I did to him, you know that. I don't know if I still love him, all I know is that I'm not fully ready yet."

"That's why you never went to see him?"

"Maybe."

"But you've married Philip Straydog."

Her eyes squinted at him. She knew he was doing it deliberately. "It's Strindberg."

"Whatever."

"And it's different with him, okay?"

"Does he know about Dennis?"

"No, I don't think he does." It just occurred to her that Philip may have had an idea. Maybe her father told him? But she had made her parents promise never to talk about Dennis with anyone, including her, a long time ago.

"Are you going to tell him?"

"No. We'll be separated in six months. There's no need to tell him anything." She brushed away the little unease, that slight pang when she uttered the word 'separated'.

"If you say so..." Harrison shrugged and attacked his already cold steak. Their mood was already spoiled, much to her own fault.

"Still enjoying Doctors Without Borders?" she asked after a while.

His face seemed to glow as he said, "We're having progress in our own ways. And yes, I still enjoy it."

"I'm glad to hear that. These people you're helping are lucky to have you around to help them."

His answer was interrupted by the sudden ring of her phone. Cassandra knew where the call was coming from before she saw the screen. She punched the tapped the button and continued eating.

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

"Nah...it's just Philip."

Harrison frowned. "Emergency? Does he know you're with me?"

The only emergency that can happen is when he gets near me, Cassandra said to herself. "No, he might be checking up on me. His family's coming over later so..." she trailed off. She did not bother to answer his last question.

Harrison just nodded and her phone rang again, followed by a text message that said: ANSWER THE DAMN PHONE.

"I think I should get this after all," she excused herself and walked way out of earshot and answered the phone.

"Where the hell are you?" Philip's angry voice demanded. "How the hell did you get out?"

"I'm shopping," she lied. And you can check my bathroom window to know how I got out, she added mentally.

"Shopping..." his voice was tinted with different colors of doubt now, "for what?"

"Groceries—for later." She mentally patted her back in congratulations for her quick mind.

"Where?"

"Uhh... the store, of course!" she made it sure her voice sounded like she found his question stupid.

"What grocery store?"

"The one I'm at right now..." she cringed.

"Cassandra..." his voice sounded dangerous now.

She blurted out the first name of the grocery store she could think of.