CHAPTER 1

AFTER SIX YEARS...

      CHARITY was on the dance floor of a nightclub, swaying wildly to the pounding rhythm. She paid no mind to the sweat dripping from her forehead or her hair messily sticking to her face.

     "Whoo!" she shouted, punctuating the moment with a headbang.

      Who would’ve thought that the woman dancing like her life depended on it had lost her job that very day? For Charity, the dance floor was a sanctuary—a place to throw her frustrations into the void.

        "I'm sorry, Charity. The restaurant has been struggling for several months now, and I really need to let some of my people go. Sadly, you're one of them."

        It was as if Mr. Oca's words echoed once again in her ears. This made her seem even wilder on the dance floor, as if trying to ease her sadness over losing her job.

     “Girl, sit down! I’m out of breath!” Milet, her friend, called out over the music.

       Milet had insisted on treating her to a night out—a luxury Charity could never afford herself. The club’s drinks alone would’ve devoured her already-empty wallet.

       Reluctantly, Charity left the dance floor and joined Milet at their table when dizziness set in.

     “My feet are killing me,” she groaned, collapsing into her seat. Both women looked like they’d been through a brawl, their hair disheveled from hours of dancing.

      “Whose feet wouldn’t hurt? Look at those heels of yours—they could double as weapons!” Milet teased.

       Charity laughed, shaking her head. Weapons? They were only six-inch stilettos, just enough to add a little height to her petite 4’11” frame. Her height had always been a sore spot for her, but at least the heels helped.

      “I need to freshen up,” she said, getting up from the table.

       Before leaving, she bent down to remove her stilettos. With the alcohol clouding her balance, it was safer to walk barefoot than risk a fall. She wobbled slightly as she walked down the dimly lit hallway toward the restroom. Her vision was a little blurry, but she pushed forward. Suddenly, she collided with something hard.

      “Ouch!” she yelped, stumbling backward. She squinted up at the person she’d bumped into. Was she really so small that this person hadn’t even noticed her?

       The faint lighting made it hard to make out his features, but one thing was clear—he was tall. A sharp, woodsy cologne lingered in the air, as though daring her to breathe too deeply.

      “You’re not even going to apologize, huh?” Charity snapped, her irritation fueled by the alcohol. “What? Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?”

       The man didn’t respond. He just stood there, his gaze fixed on her like she was some insignificant insect. Charity’s frustration boiled over.

      “Hey!” She jabbed his chest, surprised at how solid it felt. “Say something! Apologize, you moron!”

       Still, he remained silent. Before Charity could react further, two men in black suits appeared out of nowhere, approaching her. They were about to grab her arms and escort her out of the club when the man she had bumped into finally spoke.

      “Don’t. Let her go.”

       His voice was deep, cold, and commanding. It sent a chill down Charity's spine. The men immediately stepped back, retreating behind him like obedient shadows.

      “Charity!” Milet’s voice cut through the tension as she rushed toward them. Though Charity couldn’t clearly make out her friend’s face, the fear in her voice was unmistakable —something she couldn’t understand.

       Milet grabbed her arm tightly, throwing nervous glances at the man. Charity confused by her friend’s behavior, felt as if Milet had just encountered a tiger in human form.

      “I apologize for whatever my friend did, Mr. Silvestre,” Milet said, bowing slightly.

     “Hey, I didn’t do anything! okay? He’s the one who bumped into me!” Charity huffed, crossing her arms defensively.

       Milet pinched her arm sharply. “Shut up,” she hissed under her breath.

       The man walked past them without a word. Charity caught another whiff of his intoxicating cologne, momentarily distracting her.

     “Wait—” she started, but Milet quickly covered her mouth.

     “What’s your problem?!” Charity demanded once Milet removed her hand.

       Milet glared at her, exasperated. “Charity! Of all the people in this club, you had to bump into him?”

      “What’s so special about that guy?” Charity asked, frowning as she rubbed her temple.

        Milet dragged her to a quieter corner outside the club.

      “Listen to me: if you ever see that man again, avoid him at all costs. He’s part of the Mafia. He’s involved in all sorts of illegal activities. He’s dangerous, Charity—a monster! You’re lucky you didn’t provoke him.”

      “Mafia?” Charity repeated, stunned.

      “Yes! He frequents nightclubs, but I didn’t expect to see him here. Just stay out of his way if you ever see him again,” Milet warned, pulling her toward the exit.

        Charity winced. “But I didn’t even get a clear look at his face. My vision was blurry!”

       “It doesn’t matter! Let’s go—I’ll take you home,” Milet insisted, hurrying her to the waiting area.

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LATER THAT NIGHT.

     “HERE, borrow this.” Milet handed her three thousand pesos as they stood outside Charity’s apartment.

    “What’s this for?”

    “Seriously? You’re jobless now, and I know you’re broke. Use it to look for a new job.”

      Tears welled in Charity’s eyes at her friend’s kindness. Compared to her own misfortunes, Milet’s life seemed so much easier. Why did it feel like the universe dumped all its bad luck on her?

     “No drama, okay? Go inside. I’m leaving now,” Milet said, brushing off Charity’s gratitude.

     “Thank you, Milet. One day, I’ll pay you back.”

     “Yeah, yeah. See you. Bye!”

      Charity waited until Milet got into a tricycle before stepping into her apartment. But as she closed the door, a strange sensation washed over her—like someone was watching her from the shadows. She glanced back toward the street but saw nothing.

      “Must be the alcohol,” she muttered, locking the door behind her.

       Outside, headlights flickered to life as a sleek black car emerged from the shadows, disappearing into the night without a sound.