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Ang unang beses na nakita ko si Sebastian Romano, hindi ko alam kung headline na ba iyon o simula ng pagkawasak ko. Jackpot ba na natagpuan ko sya dahil isa itong malaki at maingay na balitang isisiwalat ko. Ngunit buhay ko ang nakataya rito.
Nasa loob ako ng lumang bar sa dulo ng Pier 9. Isang lugar na amoy alak, usok, at mga sikreto na hindi kailanman isusulat sa dyaryo. Hindi dapat ako nandoon. Pero iyon ang problema sa trabaho ko bilang isang journalist reporter, lagi akong napupunta sa mga lugar na bawal, delikado, at puno ng kasinungalingan. Kabado man, natatakot, kailangan kong maging matapang because this is the field and nature of work I chose. Ito yung pinag-aralan ko ng ilang taon and this is my dream. My passion. Ang magbalita, magpalaganap ng katotohanan. “Isla Carter,” bulong ko sa sarili ko, mahigpit na hawak ang maliit kong notebook. Isang tanong lang. Isang quote lang. Tapos lumabas ka na. Pero hindi iyon ang nangyari. Tahimik ang bar, parang huminto ang oras, nang pumasok siya. Hindi siya sumigaw. Hindi rin siya nag-utos. Pero ramdam ko—lahat ng mata ay sa kanya napunta. Matangkad, naka-itim na suit na parang hinabi para sa katawan niya, at may presensyang kayang patahimikin ang isang buong silid. Sebastian Romano. Ang lalaking pangalan pa lang ay sapat na para matakot ang buong lungsod. Crime boss. Shadow ruler. Isang pangalan na paulit-ulit kong nakikita sa mga anonymous tips, police whispers, at mga kaso na biglang nawawala. At ngayon, nasa iisang kwarto kami. Nagtagpo ang mga mata namin, sandali lang, pero sapat para mawalan ako ng hininga. Hindi malamig ang tingin niya. Hindi rin galit. Para bang… sinusukat niya ako. Tinitimbang kung worth it ba akong pansinin, o kung isa lang akong pagkakamaling madaling burahin. Lumapit siya. Isa. Dalawang hakbang. Tumigil sa harap ko. “You’re not supposed to be here,” malamig niyang sabi. Mababa ang boses niya, kalmado pero may babalang nakatago sa bawat salita. Pinilit kong huwag manginig. “I’m a journalist,” sagot ko. “I go where the truth is.” Umangat ang isang sulok ng labi niya, parang ngiti—pero walang init. “The truth,” ulit niya. “Is a dangerous thing to chase, cara. I suggest to be more careful, specially around me. Around the Romanos." I just smiled and nods at him. Doon ko unang naramdaman ang kakaibang kabog sa dibdib ko. Hindi dahil sa takot lang pkundi dahil may bahagi sa akin na gustong manatili. Gustong intindihin ang lalaking ito na puno ng dilim at kapangyarihan. Hindi ko pa alam noon na ang bawat salitang isusulat ko, bawat hakbang na gagawin ko, ay papalapit sa kanya. I am not sure about what I am doing or kung ano itong pinasok ko. Hindi ko pa alam na ang lalaking dapat kong ilantad ay siya ring lalaking magnanakaw ng puso ko. At sa mundong pinaghaharian ng kasinungalingan at dugo, iisa lang ang tanong: Kapag dumating ang araw na kailangan kong pumili—pipiliin ko ba ang byline… o ang puso ko? —Isla CarterI stared at the screen for a long time before I clicked Publish.Hindi dahil kulang ang ebidensya.Hindi dahil may mali sa kwento.Kung tutuusin, ito na ang pinakamatibay kong piece in years.Sebastian Romano. Connections. Money trails. Names people pretended not to know.Everything lined up too cleanly to ignore. What stopped me was simpler than that.Him.I remembered the way he chose restraint when he didn’t have to. The way he spoke to me like I was a person, not a pawn. The way he said he’d wait without asking me to give anything back.“Trabaho lang ‘to,” bulong ko sa sarili ko.I wasn’t betraying him. I was doing what I’d always done.Truth over comfort.Truth over feelings.My finger hovered over the mouse.Once this goes live, there’s no undo. Huminga ako nang malalim, then clicked.Publish.The page refreshed. The headline went live. Notifications started pouring in almost instantly. Alerts, messages, reactions I didn’t bother opening yet.I leaned back in my chair, heart pou
Isla’s POVI woke up annoyed. Not because something bad happened, but because nothing did.Same ceiling.Same apartment. Same city noise outside my window. Pero may something off, like my chest hadn’t caught up with my brain yet. I kept replaying last night, and no matter how I framed it, the same thing stood out.He stopped.Sebastian Romano could’ve taken more. He didn’t. And somehow, that stuck with me more than if he had. I reached for my phone without thinking.No message.I told myself that was good.Healthy.Responsible.Still, my grip tightened a little before I put it down.I went through my morning routine on autopilot. Coffee I barely drank, headlines I skimmed instead of read. My own article stared back at me on the screen, his name bold and unbothered.Sebastian Romano.Mafia boss.Man I should be dissecting, not remembering.At the newsroom, people were careful around me. Not suspicious or curious. Like they were waiting for me to either double down or disappear. My ed
Sebastian’s POVI’ve kissed women before.In my world, intimacy is easy. Clean. Transactional. No promises, no consequences that last past sunrise. It’s always been controlled, mine, theirs, or borrowed for the night.What I felt standing in front of Isla Carter was none of that. We were walking without purpose, the city thinning out around us until the noise softened into something almost honest. No guards. No drivers. Just streetlights and the space she allowed me to occupy.That mattered.“You’re still here,” she said, like she was testing gravity.“I said I would be,” I replied.I meant it in the most dangerous way possible.She stopped. I stopped immediately, instinct, not strategy. When she turned to face me, I saw it in her eyes: not fear, not curiosity.Calculation.She was weighing the risk.I knew that look. I’d worn it my entire life.“You don’t get to play serious with me,” she said.“I’m not playing,” I answered.That was the truth, stripped bare.No leverage.No continge
Isla’s POV I didn’t trust the calm. After everything, after the article, the fallout, the way Sebastian chose to stay instead of disappear and the quiet felt suspicious. Parang bago ang bagyo. Parang may hinihintay na sumabog. Still, there he was. Consistent. Predictable in the most unsettling way. Hindi na siya basta anino sa gilid ng paningin ko. Hindi na rin siya panakot sa inbox ko. Sebastian Romano had become a presence, steady, unavoidable, irritatingly respectful. That scared me more than the threats ever did. We were sitting in the café again. Same place. Same hour. Different air between us. “You’re thinking too loudly,” he said, eyes on his coffee. “Occupational hazard,” sagot ko. “Journalists think for a living.” “And yet you’re here,” he replied. I raised an eyebrow. “You invited yourself into my routine. Don’t rewrite it.” A ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth. “Fair.” I watched him for a moment, really watched. No suits today. Just a dark shirt, sleeves ro
Pursuing Isla Carter required a different rulebook.Flowers and grand gestures worked on women who wanted to be impressed. Isla wanted none of that. She wanted space, clarity, control, things men like me were never supposed to offer.So I offered consistency.I stopped sending gifts.Instead, I showed restraint.I made sure she got to work safely without knowing how. I made sure the men circling her apartment weren’t mine alone. Media, rivals, opportunists, but that none of them ever got close enough to breathe the same air.“Boss,” Matteo said one night as we watched security feeds from a distance. “Parang baliktad ata ‘to. Usually kapag gusto mo ang babae—”“—you take,” I finished. “I know.”“Pero ngayon, parang ikaw pa ang nag-a-adjust.”“Yes.”He shook his head. “Delikado ka na talaga.”I didn’t deny it.Isla didn’t answer my messages for three days. Not even to tell me to stop.That was intentional. Silence, in her language, wasn’t surrender but it was recalibration.On the four
Sebastian’s POVMidnight came and went. The city didn’t explode the way people imagine it does when a name like mine hits the page. No sirens. No fires in the streets. Just a quiet shift like tectonic plates grinding beneath polished marble floors.That’s how real damage starts.By 12:07 a.m., my phone was already ringing.By 12:12, three alliances were reconsidering their loyalties.By 12:19, one man who used to call me brother stopped answering altogether.I let it all happen.Because the first thing I did before calls, before damage control, before blood was checked on Isla.“Boss,” Matteo said as he entered my office, face tight. “Sumabog na.”“I know,” I replied, eyes still on the screen.Isla’s apartment.Lights on.Curtains open.She was pacing.“She published,” Matteo continued. “Buong pangalan. Buong koneksyon.”“Yes.”He hesitated. “Anong gagawin natin?”I stood, slipped on my jacket. “I court her.”Matteo blinked. “Boss… inexpose ka na sa mundo. Hindi ba dapat—”“I didn’t s







