"ARE you ready, Charity?" I looked at my cousin Luke who emerged from the front door of my father's villa.

I stood up from the couch I'm sitting on and slightly rolled my eyes at him.

"You're late." I told him.

He chuckled. "By only five minutes." He took off his sunglasses as he strides towards me. I was welcomed by his green eyes a shade darker than mine. My eye color was one of the things I inherited from the Alinsky genes.

I was half Greek, half-Filipino. My mother was pure Filipina, while my father was Greek. But it was only six years ago when I finally met my father. For eighteen years, my mother raised me by herself in the Philippines.

According to the story my mother has told me, she met my father when she was still working as an assistant chef in a crew ship. She fell in love with my father the moment they met. But their relationship only lasted for a few months. My mother left my father when she learned that he was cheating on her. She resigned from her job and went back to the Philippines without knowing that she was pregnant with me.

My mother was an only child and both her parents were already dead, so she practically raised me all by herself.

I had a good relationship with my mother. She was my best friend and partner in crime. I was devastated when she left me. She was the only family I hasd...

I was seventeen when we discovered that she was sick. She was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer. Her doctor told us it was already too late for her because the cancer had already spread to her organs. And just a year later, she died.

It was only before my mother passed away when she told me the truth about my father—that I was the daughter of a Greek business magnate, Heros Alinsky. She then apologized for keeping it to me.

Just three months after my mother's death, a Greek national with eyes the same color as mine appeared on my apartment's door. He introduced herself as my father.

According to him, my mother penned him a letter before her health deteriorated. Together with that letter was my picture and my address.

My father apologized for being absent in my life. We talked and I learned that he didn't really cheat on my mother. He and my mother's break-up was just all a misunderstanding.

Heros Alinsky, just like what my mother has told me, was a very kind man. His wife already passed away and he was now living with his son—my half brother Conrad.

My father convinced me to go with him to Greece. And because he was the only family left of me, I left the Philippines with him and started a new life in a foreign country.

In an instant, my life changed. From being a simple college student in the Philippines, I became Charity Navarro-Alinsky, daughter of one of the richest Greek tycoons. My father enrolled me in an exclusive university in Greece, and I picked up the same course I took up in the Philippines—Finance Management. Now I was handling one of my father's businesses together with my brother Conrad.

"How long will you be staying there?"

Luke asked me as he looked at my luggage. I decided to bring only one piece of luggage with me.

"A month or two, I think." Luke offered to drive me to the airport since Conrad was in Italy for a business trip.

When my father introduced me to his family, the whole Alinsky clan accepted me wholeheartedly. They treated me as their own. I have seven cousins from my father's side, and among them, I was closest to Luke. Maybe it was because he was also my brother Conrad's best friend.

"That long? Damn. I wish I could go with you."

He took my luggage with him. I followed him as he went to his car. He opened the compartment and put my suitcase there.

Luke got jealous when Conrad and I went to Boracay last year. He even told me he would tag along with me the next time I go to the Philippines. Too bad, he couldn't go with me right now because he needed to follow Conrad to Italy tomorrow.

"Just don't forget to bring back dried mangoes or I'll forget we're cousins," he continued.

I almost laughed at what he said. I gave him dried mangoes from the balikbayan box my best friend Mariel sent me last year. Since then, Luke fell in love with that native snack. I remembered the time we searched almost all the Filipino grocery stores in Greece just to look for dried mangoes.

"Fine. I'll send you five boxes the moment I step my foot there. Satisfied?"

"Only five? Make it ten, Cha."

I laughed at him. "Fine. You dried mango addict." Who would've thought that this green-eyed gorgeous man was addicted to dried mangoes?

He grinned then playfully patted my head. "Get in."

I rolled my eyes at him as I entered the front seat of his car. He and Conrad always loved to pat my head like I'm sort of a child. They liked teasing me for my height.

Both he and my brother were six footers. Everyone in the Alinskys have supermodel heights. And me? I was only five three. I blamed it on my mother's genes.

"Take care, Cha." Luke gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek as he dropped me off in the airport. "Enjoy your vacation."

I smiled at him and gently tapped his shoulder. "See you in three months, Luke."

I grabbed my luggage as I headed inside the departure area.

"Welcome, Ma'am," the flight attendant said as I thanked her for assisting me to the first class section of the plane.

Damn. I muttered to myself when I found out my seat was next to the window. I settled on my seat, closed the window beside me, took out the bonamine tablet I bought at the airport cafeteria and popped it in my mouth. I always hate flying. Not only was I afraid of heights, I also have motion sickness. Riding a plane was always a dreadful experience for me.

I remembered when I first rode a plane, I almost puked my stomach out in nervousness. Thank God my father took care of me the whole thirteen hour of our flight to Greece.

I closed my eyes and leaned my back on the seat. A couple of minutes passed, when I felt someone occupying the seat next to me. Then I heard the captain's voice asking everyone to prepare for the take-off.

I started to feel nervous. I took a deep breath and as I felt the slight shaking of the plane.

I grabbed onto my seat and while trying to calm myself. "Come on, Charity." I whispered to myself while trying my best to calm my nerves. "You've done this before."

I kept on mumbling to myself for a couple of seconds until the plane slowly steadied. I let out a deep breath and finally opened my eyes. I wiped the beads of sweat on my forehead.

"Do you need anything, Sir?" I noticed a flight attendant standing near me. He was asking the passenger sitting next to me.

There was a partition between the two seats so I couldn't see the man occupying the seat next to me. This is what I want about sitting in business class. I could have my own privacy.

"Can I have a glass of wine?"

The stranger's voice was deep and manly. It sounded good to the ears. I pursed my lips. I wondered if his face matched his voice.

I watched as the flight attendant disappeared and then came back with a food cart. She served the man beside me a glass of Pinot Noir.

My father has a winery business so I was familiar with wines.

"Thank you." I heard the voice once again and this time, my forehead creased a little. That voice was kind of familiar. I felt like I heard it before. I lightly shook my head. I only knew a few men in my life so that was impossible.

"You're welcome, Sir." I noticed how the flight attendant kept on glancing at the man sitting next to me as she turned to me.

Oh? Based on her face, I guessed the man next to me was really good looking.

"Hi, ma'am, do you need anything?"

I suddenly felt nauseous. Damn. I gave the attendant a small smile despite the uneasiness that's slowly consuming me. "Just a glass of water, please."

I maintained a straight face as I watched her place a glass of water on my table. "Thank you."

I held on to my glass and slowly sipped from it while trying to calm my nerves. Damn. Why do I always have to experience this whenever I'm flying?

I winced when I felt my stomach grumble. This was my fault for forgetting to take the medicine when I was still in the waiting area an hour ago.

When my condition didn't get any better, I finally stood up and made my way to the restroom.

I looked at myself in the mirror in front of me. My face was pale and void of any color. I combed my long straight hair with my fingers and opened the faucet. I sprinkled some water on my face.

Damn. I held on to the sink as I felt my stomach rumble. I felt like a bunch of butterflies suddenly invaded my stomach. I drew a deep breath as I continued to calm myself.

I didn't know how long I stayed in the bathroom when I heard the knock on the door.

I ran my fingers through my hair one more time before I unlocked the door.

What the…

A familiar man was standing on the doorway. He was wearing a white long sleeved shirt and a black slacks. His shirt was folded up to his elbows. He was tall and well built. In fact, he was towering over me.

Then my eyes went to his face. Those deep brown eyes with long lashes and thick brows, straight nose, naturally red lips and squared jaw. And that slightly wavy hair that completed his perfect look.

When was the last time I saw him? Right. Six years ago. Right before I left the Philippines.

I blinked my eyes. Was this really him in front of me right now? Was I not hallucinating?

I shut my eyes for a few seconds before I opened them again. And he was still here. Standing elegantly in front of me. Oh. God. He was real. I was not dreaming right? He was really in front of me. Inches away from me. What was he doing here? Did he have business he attended here in Greece?

Alexander Villarama. He was once the man of my dreams. I met him when I was still in the Philippines. We attended the same university before—St. Claire University. Alexander or Xander—the name he was known for—was one of the campus heartthrobs in our college. He was rich, smart, athletic and nice. Half of the female population wanted a piece of him.

"Miss, are you okay?" he asked me with that familiar voice.

I parted my lips when I realized something. The voice of the man seated next to me. It was Xander. He was the owner of that voice. That's why it was familiar.

I continued to stare at him. His forehead was creased; concern evident on it. Our eyes met. But there was no recognition in them. Of course, he didn't remember me.

During my stay in St. Claire, I only got to talk to him twice. I had a huge crush on him, but I didn't have the confidence to talk to him.

I was a different girl six years ago. I was shy… and timid. A typical wallflower.

I blinked my eyes and cleared my throat. "I'm… okay." I suddenly felt the loud beating of my heart inside my chest. I couldn't believe that after six long years, he still has the same effect on me.

"Are you sure?" He studied my face. "You look pale."

I bit the inside of my cheeks. He was still the same.

I remembered the first time I talked to him. It was raining that night, and he gave me his umbrella. It was love at first sight for me.

"I'm—" I stopped when I felt another twist on my stomach. Oh, shit. Shit! My hand automatically flew to my mouth.

But then Xander held me in the arm. "Miss…"

Then the next thing I knew, his white shirt was covered with vomit. I just puked on him. Shit!