Novels by Darkchoco

CHAPTER 8: The Lion's Den​Kung ang penthouse ni Atticus ay mukhang Apple Store, ang ancestral house ng mga Valderama ay mukhang setting ng horror movie. 'Yung tipong may lalabas na white lady sa bawat kanto.​"Relax," Atticus said, squeezing my hand as the heavy iron gates creaked open.​"Relax?!" I hissed back. "Atticus, mukhang haunted house 'to! May vampire ba ang Lolo mo?"​"He's not a vampire. He's a Chairman. Which is worse," Atticus replied dryly.​The limousine drove up a long, winding driveway lined with ancient acacia trees. At the end stood a massive Spanish-style mansion made of stone and dark wood. Vines crawled up the walls like veins.​Bumaba kami ng sasakyan. Agad kaming sinalubong ng isang linya ng uniformed staff.​"Welcome home, Señorito Atticus. Welcome, Ma'am Celestina," sabay-sabay nilang bati.​Napahawak ako sa braso ni Atticus. "Grabe, parang Downton Abbey lang."​"Just smile and don't trip," bulong niya.​We walked through the massive double doors. The air in

CHAPTER 7: Operation: Bahay-Bahayan​Living with Atticus Valderama was like living inside an Apple Store.​Everything was white, gray, or glass. Everything was sleek. And most importantly, everything was silent.​Bawal ang kalat. Bawal ang maingay. Bawal huminga nang malakas (joke lang ‘yung last part, pero feeling ko malapit na ring isama sa rules).​It had been twenty-four hours since I moved in. And I was already losing my mind.​"Ano ba namang buhay 'to," bulong ko sa sarili ko habang nakahiga sa sofa ng living room. "Mayaman nga, bawal naman kumain ng Chippy sa co

CHAPTER 6: Trending Worldwide If Cinderella had a fairy godmother, I had a billionaire with a vengeance complex. And instead of a pumpkin carriage, I had a bulletproof limousine cruising down EDSA. Tahimik sa loob ng sasakyan. The only sound was the soft hum of the engine and the distant city noise outside the tinted windows. Nakasandal ako sa leather seat, staring blankly at the diamond necklace resting on my chest. Mabigat siya. Not just physically, but metaphorically. It felt like a collar. A very expensive, very shiny collar that screamed, “Property of Valderama.” "Stop fidgeting," Atticus said from beside me. Hindi ko siya nilingon. He was busy scrolling on his tablet, probably checking stock markets or buying another country. Since the "announcement" on stage thirty minutes ago, hindi na niya ako kinausap. The warmth, the possessive arm around my waist, the soft “You look beautiful”—lahat ‘yon, naglaho na parang bula pagbaba namin ng stage. Back to business. "Attic

"Beauty is pain," sabi nila. Pero mali sila. Beauty is expensive. And terrifying. And apparently, it involves a woman named Madame Leona pulling my hair so tight I could feel my brain stretching."Chin up, darling! Don't slouch!" Madame Leona barked, slapping my shoulder lightly.Nasa loob kami ng isang private dressing room sa penthouse ni Atticus. It had been three days since "The Deal." Three days of spa treatments, dental cleaning (masakit, bes), waxing sessions (sobrang sakit, bes), and walking lessons (bakit kailangan mag-aral maglakad?!).Atticus wasn't kidding about the transformation. He didn't just want me to look rich; he wanted me to look untouchable."We are done," Madame Leona announced, stepping back to admire her work.I slowly opened my eyes and looked at the full-length mirror.Napatakip ako sa bibig ko.The woman staring back at me wasn't Tin. She wasn't the housewife who wore loose t-shirts and messy buns. She wasn't the girl who cried in a 7-Eleven.She was... bre

Sumakay na ako sa maraming sasakyan sa tanang buhay ko—tricycle, jeep, bus, Grab, at yung lumang Toyota Vios ni Jason na laging sira ang aircon.Pero iba ‘to.I was sitting inside a Bentley. Not just any Bentley—a black, gleaming beast that probably cost more than the entire subdivision Jason lived in. The seats were made of cream leather so soft I felt guilty sitting on them with my dusty pants. Ang bango. Amoy tagumpay."Ma'am, water?" the driver, Manong Bert (he introduced himself politely), asked while handing me a bottle of Evian. Not Absolute. Not Wilkins. Evian."Salamat po," I whispered, clutching the bottle like it was holy water.Binigyan niya rin ako ng sandwich container. Gourmet ham and cheese on brioche. I devoured it in three bites. Bahala na kung mukha akong patay-gutom. Technically, I was patay-gutom.After thirty minutes of gliding through traffic (seriously, traffic didn't seem to exist for this car), we entered the basement parking of a towering glass skyscraper in

They say the truth will set you free. But first, it will piss you off.Nakaupo ako sa dining chair, staring at the cold bowl of sinigang I cooked yesterday afternoon. The soup had solidified into a greasy, orange mess. Parang utak ko. Sabaw.It was 7:00 AM. Hindi ako natulog. Not even a wink.My eyes felt like sandpaper. My body ached from curling up on the sofa waiting for a husband who was busy warming another woman’s bed.Ang tanga mo, Tin, I told myself for the hundredth time.Beside the bowl of sinigang was the smashed cake box. Beside that was the Rolex. I stared at the expensive watch. Three hundred thousand pesos. That was my entire savings account. That was supposed to be for our future baby, or a down payment for a car that didn't break down every Tuesday.Pero anong ginawa ko? Binili ko ng relo para sa lalaking tinawag akong "convenient."Suddenly, the front door clicked.My spine straightened. Instinctively, I wanted to run to him, ask him if he was okay, ask him if he had