×Fake Identity×
Imanuel Karel Arisatya. Who doesn’t know him?
Oops! The truth is… no one really does. Haha! :"))
Rich guy, with super Chinese-looking features, tall and slender like a flagpole. Basically perfect—except for one thing.
He’s deathly afraid of…
“Shoo... shoo...”
Yep, in his VIP hotel room, Karel was busy trying to chase away a dragonfly.
He was seriously terrified of that insect.
If we trace back the reason for this irrational fear—it’s because, as a child, Karel was often terrorized by being forced to deal with dragonflies.
More specifically, his belly button was the target.
It’s not hard to guess what happened next. Yup—Karel used to wet the bed, and that was his family’s messed-up way of curing it.
Having finally gotten rid of the flying creature, Karel rushed to shut his room’s window tight.
Screech!
He slid the window closed and locked it from the inside.
It was a bright morning, the air quite delightful.
Yeah… breezy but not painful, since it wasn’t accompanied by ominous thunder or sudden chills that usually made him feel randomly miserable.
But truthfully—Karel was just dramatic. Period. Hah!
Let’s continue…
Karel walked down the hotel hallway toward the elevator. His steps in sync with the clicking of his steel-toed project boots. He stopped when his phone started to ring.
Beep.
He pulled the phone from his pocket, swiping the green button to answer.
“Hello?”
Right as he answered, he pressed the down arrow beside the elevator door.
“Yes, Dad? What is it?”
Ding!
The elevator arrived. Karel stepped in and pressed the button for LG—the lower ground floor.
“.................”
“Oh, that,” he said, nodding slightly. “Yes, I do plan to check the site today. The final layout from yesterday’s discussion is ready.”
“...................”
“Alright, I’ll meet the architect directly at the construction site.”
“.................”
“Yes, Dad.”
Ding!
Karel ended the call and exited the elevator.
Still holding his phone, Karel’s gaze drifted to the receptionist desk.
A memory flashed—one he wished he could forget.
Truth be told, he’d gone a bit overboard last night with the hotel supervisor.
He made his way to the front desk before officially leaving the hotel premises.
Tap.
The sound of his boots on the tile.
“Good morning, Sir. May I help you?” the receptionist asked as Karel approached.
“Morning…” Karel glanced around a bit, then went straight to the point.
“I’d like to ask about the hotel’s supervisor. Where is she, miss?”
“Ohh, you mean Miss Staylie?”
Karel honestly didn’t remember her name. He never even bothered to check her name tag the night before.
“Maybe, yeah… Staylie-Staylie something like that.”
Hesitant, the receptionist asked him another question.
“Could you describe what she looks like, Sir?”
“Oh yeah, good point,” Karel nodded.
“She’s about 168 cm, slim figure, fair skin… and her features are kind of a mix between Malay and Pakistani, with a hint of Chinese—her eyes are narrow like mine.”
The receptionist nodded in recognition.
“Ah, yes. That’s Miss Staylie, alright.”
“Where is she now?”
“She’s off today, Sir. It’s the weekend, and she usually takes Sundays off. But she’s here on weekdays, even Saturdays.”
“Hmm… okay then. Thanks, miss,” Karel gave her a small smile.
“You’re welcome, Sir,” she replied warmly.
Thinking back to last night—why did he give her a fake identity again?
Well, Karel had his reasons. He felt suspicious of that supervisor, Staylie.
He didn’t believe she was fully capable in her role—she wasn’t even present 24/7 as someone responsible for hotel operations. That alone made him cautious.
He didn’t want to expose his real identity to someone who might mishandle it.
In the end, it was self-protection. He didn’t feel guilty at all.
It was all perfectly reasonable, considering what he’d gone through.
Karel had a dark past—he and his older sister were kidnapped as children. The trauma left a deep scar, one that took years of therapy and still hadn’t fully healed.
He had no choice but to be careful—just like last night. Hiding his real name wasn’t about being shady—it was survival.
---
#+++++#
Karel arrived at the construction site. As the lead project supervisor, it was his duty to thoroughly inspect every aspect of the development.
He started by reviewing the building sketches and layout—ensuring that everything aligned with building regulations and was ready for submission to the next approval stage.
“I’m not too sure about the roofing structure here,” Karel pointed at a section on the blueprint. “Make sure it matches the actual material we’re planning to use for the roof.”
He then walked off to inspect other parts of the site.
As a civil engineering graduate, Karel had been appointed by his father to take over the business—eventually.
His father’s real estate company was currently working with the government on a project to build affordable housing for families.
Karel was originally assigned to a company branch overseas. But due to personal reasons, he agreed to come back to Jakarta—to bury the trauma of his past and perhaps, finally begin to heal.
One day, he planned to visit his childhood home in Pakubuwono, South Jakarta—if time allowed.
He didn’t intend to stay in Jakarta long. Maybe a year or two—just enough to see the project through.
---
“Mr. Karel?”
A voice called out. It belonged to Inggit, his trusted assistant—two years older than him and by his side for the past three years.
“Yes?” Karel approached her.
“What is it?”
“Have you had breakfast yet, Sir?”
Oh. Karel had expected something important. Turned out, she was just asking about breakfast.
“No,” he shook his head lightly. “Why?”
“Perfect! I bought chicken porridge—two portions. One’s for you. Let’s eat together.” Inggit beamed.
Without waiting for a response, Inggit walked off ahead.
Karel, unable to say no, followed behind her quietly.
---
#+++++#
It was a bright, sunny Sunday—but not for Staylie.
Her day was stormy—emotionally speaking.
She was annoyed, embarrassed, angry. Everything all at once.
Just like the proverb:
“Pawn forced to the Chinese.”
Meaning: what’s been done can’t be undone.
OMG. Staylie had completely lost her grace in front of that VIP guest—who had basically turned her into a glorified maid. Ugh!
Yup. She’d been caught crawling on the hotel floor.
She was just about to reach the elevator when suddenly—
Blurb!
She could feel someone right behind her.
SOMEONE??!
Staylie snapped back to reality.
What was she even doing?
Srrreeett...
She turned her body around—still on the floor.
“Wha?!”
Her jaw dropped. She froze.
There he was—laughing silently at her.
“Miss, life must be really hard, huh? Crawling around like that? Hahaha…”
Damn you! Staylie cursed inwardly, her face turning red.
She scrambled to her feet and bolted to the elevator, smashing the down button like it owed her money.
Seconds later—
Ding!
She slipped into the elevator like a rolling wheel.
She’d been humiliated beyond belief.
Being someone’s maid was one thing—but this? This was her dignity being ripped to shreds.
---
“Strange,” said Atmadja, Staylie’s father, turning slightly to look toward her.
“Your sister actually agreed to join us for golf today…”
The woman in question sat slumped on the bench, resting her chin on her knees.
“No idea, Dad,” replied Lana, glancing at her sister too. “Maybe she’s just bored of her usual Sunday routine.”
Every Sunday, Staylie usually spoiled herself with mani-pedis—spa treatments for her hands and feet, followed by a fresh coat of polish.
But not today.
Today, she wanted air. Open skies. Sunshine—even though she normally hated getting sunburned.
Lana and Atmadja took turns swinging their golf clubs.
Meanwhile, Staylie...
Thunk!
Whacked a golf ball straight into the butt of one of the caddies she’d just hired.
“Yes!” she cheered.
She got ready to strike again—the other caddie had placed a new ball.
Grinning wide, Staylie took another swing—same butt, direct hit.
The caddies didn’t mind. They were getting paid well, after all. LOL.
But Staylie wasn’t done.
She asked the two caddies to lift her up—like in a circus act.
With her arms outstretched, her feet held a golf ball pressed between them.
She aimed... and—
Plop!
Hole-in-one.
“Woohoo! Goal!” she cheered.
The three of them clapped and jumped around, celebrating.
They carried her back to her spot the same way—circus-style. Haha!
She ended with a kiss-blowing gesture, waving her hands like a giddy little kid.
Yeah… something was definitely off with Staylie.
Hhhhaahhh...
Lana and Atmadja had been watching this madness from afar.
They blinked. Repeatedly.
Lana even rubbed her eyes.
“What’s wrong with your sister, Lana? Has she lost it?”
Atmadja shook his head, rubbing his temples.
So much shame, not even a mirror could handle it.
“No idea, Dad. Maybe her acid reflux is acting up again.”
Lana replied casually, scratching her head with a confused face.
Now, the real question was…
What the hell was their mom craving when she was pregnant with Staylie??