pulled off the bald wig.
Within minutes, the “Billionaire Pig” was gone.
Standing before Clara was a man in his early thirties — tall, muscular, sharp-featured, and breathtakingly handsome.
Sebastian Montemayor.
His true self.
Clara collapsed onto the bed in shock.
“W-who are you?”
Sebastian knelt before her and held her hands.
“It’s still me, Clara. Baste,” he said gently.
“B-but why? Why pretend?”
“I was exhausted,” Sebastian confessed.
“Every woman I met loved me for my looks and my money. When Vanessa betrayed me, I swore I would never marry again until I found someone who loved my soul—not my skin.”
Tears filled his eyes.
“So I wore a mask. I became a monster. I searched for a woman who could endure my smell, my weight, my anger.
And that woman was you. Tonight, you defended me. You loved me even when you thought I had nothing to give.”
“Sebastian…”
