Kabanata 4: Make-over

Nakatitig si Frances sa higanteng walk-in closet na mas malaki pa sa buong apartment niya sa Cubao. Dalawang floor-to-ceiling mirror panels ang nagre-reflect sa kaguluhang nangyayari sa paligid niya.

Habang nakasandal si Rafael sa hamba ng pinto—naka-cross ang ankles at naka-cross ang braso sa dibdib habang pinapanood siya na parang pusa na nag-aabang ng daga—tatlong Italian fashion stylists at dalawang makeup artists ang mabilis na nag-aaligid kay Frances. Para siyang mamahaling mannequin na binibihisan para sa isang royal execution.

“Bossing, teka lang talaga!” sigaw ni Frances habang buong-puwersang hinihila pabalik ang oversized neon pink hoodie niya mula sa kamay ng isang stylist.

“Bakit kailangan i-confiscate ’to? Dito nakatago ang kaluluwa at social security number ko! At bakit may corset?! Kakakain ko lang ng apat na rounds ng pork belly kagabi, puputok ’yang mga zipper niyo!”

Isang mabagal at nakakapasong ngiti ang gumuhit sa mga labi ni Rafael habang pinagmamasdan ang hysterical niyang pagpupumiglas. Nanatiling kalmado ang tindig nito, completely amused by the sheer chaos she brought into his orderly world.

“Because a Tagalog-speaking, boba-drinking girl in pastel Crocs does not look like the future Boss’s woman, tesoro,” Rafael answered smoothly, his voice deep and effortless. He took a measured sip from his black coffee, eyes locked directly onto hers. “Tonight is the Valderama Gala. Every boss, council member, and rival syndicate leader will be watching. If you look weak, they will test you.”

“Eh paano kung gusto ko lang maging mahina, mag-sharon ng shanghai, at umuwi sa Cubao?!” apela ni Frances habang dahan-dahang isinusuot sa kanya ang isang emerald green silk gown—the exact shade of deep forest green na biglang nagpalutang sa gatas niyang balat.

Ibinaba ni Rafael ang tasa sa marble side table.

In motion, he was entirely lethal. Bawat hakbang nito palapit ay mabagal at tahimik, sending an immediate adrenaline surge straight to Frances’s system. Gusto niyang umatras, pero parang natunaw ang lakas sa binti niya nang tumigil ito sa mismong likuran niya.

“Out,” Rafael commanded softly to the stylists.

Walang tanong-tanong na yumuko ang staff at nagmamadaling lumabas, gently clicking the heavy double doors shut.

Naiwan silang dalawa sa gitna ng silid, surrounded by mirrors.

Lumapit pa lalo si Rafael hanggang sa maramdaman ni Frances ang radiating heat mula sa dibdib nito sa kanyang hubad na likod. Dahan-dahan nitong hinawakan ang zipper ng gown.

Nang dumampi ang magaspang at bahagyang malamig na dulo ng mga daliri ni Rafael sa balat sa may base ng kanyang spine, parang may kuryenteng gumapang pataas sa buong katawan ni Frances. A sharp, involuntary shiver ran down her back, and she sucked in a harsh breath.

“Rafael...” bulong niya, her voice wavering in a sudden mix of panic and unexpected electric tension.

“Breathe, Francesca,” he murmured.

Slowly, deliberately, his knuckles brushed against the valley of her spine habang itinataas ang zipper hanggang sa leeg. Hindi ito nagmamadali; bawat dampi ng balat sa balat ay parang calculated torture na nagpabilis sa kabog ng dibdib niya.

Nang ma-secure ang clasp, hindi lumayo si Rafael. Instead, he placed both hands firmly on her bare waist, his thumbs pressing into the soft curve of her hips as he drew her flush against his chest.

Napatitig si Frances sa reflection nila sa floor-to-ceiling mirror.

Nawala ang stressed na software developer na sanay sa puyatan at instant noodles. In her place stood a dangerously breathtaking woman. The emerald silk molded to every contour of her waist and hips, falling like liquid down to the floor. Ang buhok niya ay naka-artfully undone updo na nag-iiwan ng exposed neck, habang ang smokey eyeliner at deep wine-colored lipstick ay nagbigay ng matalim at seductive na aura sa dating inosente niyang mukha.

At sa likod niya, si Rafael—impeccably dangerous in a bespoke black tuxedo, the obsidian cufflinks catching the light, his dark eyes staring at her reflection like a man claiming what was rightfully his.

“See?” Rafael purred close to her ear, his low voice vibrating straight through her chest. “A queen fit for El Fuego.”

Napalunok si Frances, her throat completely dry. The friction of his broad frame against her back, the scent of expensive sandalwood and crisp citrus, at ang init ng palad nito sa bewang niya were doing very unholy things to her heart rate.

Pinilit niyang hilahin pabalik ang dila niya bago pa tuluyang mag-malfunction ang utak niya.

“Bossing...” bulong niya, slightly breathless pero pinipilit ang trademark nitong tapang. “Baka naman pwede pa ring mag-Crocs sa ilalim nito? Floor-length naman ’to eh. Walang makakahalata na naka-pink rubber clogs ako, promise. Aesthetic on the outside, orthopedic comfort on the inside.”

A low, genuine rumble of laughter vibrated from Rafael’s chest against her back—hindi ang malamig at sarcastic na tawa kanina, kundi isang tunog na nagpatalon sa tiyan ni Frances.

“No Crocs, Francesca,” he murmured, leaning down until his lips lightly grazed the sensitive spot right beneath her jawline, lingering just long enough to make her toes curl. “High heels only. If you fall, I have you.”

Biglang uminit ang buong pisngi ni Frances. “Sabi mo ’yan ah. Kapag ako sumubsob sa carpet, kasama kang babagsak.”

Pagkalipas ng dalawang oras, nakatayo na sila sa tapat ng napakalaking carved mahogany double doors ng Grand Ballroom sa Bonifacio Global City.

Sa kabilang side ng p***o, dinig ang elegante ngunit mabigat na tugtog ng isang live string quartet, kasabay ng mababang ugong ng boses ng mga pinakamakapangyarihang tao sa underworld.

Napahigpit ang kapit ng mga daliri ni Frances sa braso ni Rafael na nakakawit sa kanya. Beneath the tailored wool of his suit jacket, she could feel the steel-hard muscle of his arm—and the distinct, unmistakable outline of a concealed holster beneath his shoulder.

Nilingon niya si Rafael, medyo namumutla sa kabila ng blush-on niya. “Rafael... seryosong tanong. Anong sasabihin ko kapag may nagtanong kung paano tayo nagkakilala? Sasabihin ko ba na nabihag mo ang puso ko habang binubugbog mo ’yung smuggler sa warehouse?”

Rafael paused, turning his head down toward her. His dark, impenetrable eyes swept over her anxious face, and for a split second, the merciless cartel boss softened into something strikingly tender. He reached over with his free hand, covering her cold fingers where they gripped his bicep.

“Tell them the truth,” he instructed softly, his thumb tracing a soothing line across the back of her hand.

“Which is?”

“Tell them you walked into my world, looked me in the eye, and didn’t run,” bulong ni Rafael, his gaze dropping to her dark lips before rising back to lock onto hers with breathtaking intensity. “Tell them you’re the only person reckless enough to demand takeout from a man with a gun to your head.”

Napanganga si Frances bago napairap, though her heart did a dangerous flip inside her ribs. “Ang galing mong gawing romantic ’yung severe lack of survival instincts ko, Bossing. Naghahanap lang talaga ako ng unli-cheese dip.”

“Then play your part, tesoro,” Rafael whispered, his fingers tightening possessively over hers. “And let them wonder how you tamed a monster.”

Bago pa makapagreklamo si Frances sa dramatic script nito, the massive double doors swung open.

A flood of blinding chandelier light and clinking champagne flutes spilled outward. Instantly, the murmur of the crowd died down.

Dozens of heavily armed guards disguised in black-tie tuxedos, corrupt foreign diplomats, old-money oligarchs, and ruthless syndicate bosses turned their heads simultaneously toward the grand entrance. A suffocating wave of scrutiny washed over them.

Lahat ng mata ay nakapako kay Rafael Valderama—at sa misteryosang babaeng nakasuot ng emerald silk na nakakawit sa braso nito.

Bumigat ang hangin, heavy with danger and quiet hostility.

Without missing a beat, Rafael slid his hand down from her fingers to rest firmly on the small of Frances’s back, pulling her flush against his side with effortless, protective dominance.

He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, ensuring every single rival boss in the room saw the intimacy of the gesture.

“Smile, my fiancé,” Rafael murmured against her skin, his tone dark and smooth as velvet while his gaze swept over the sea of predators like a monarch surveying his domain. “Tonight, we own the room.”

Frances felt the goosebumps chase across her arms, matching the cold, thrilling electricity running through her veins.

Tumingin siya sa mga mukha ng mga taong nakapaligid—mga matang handang pumatay sa isang maling kumpas—at saka sumulyap sa lalaking nakatayo sa tabi niya, matigas, malamig sa mundo, pero may init sa bawat hawak sa kanya.

Inangat ni Frances ang kanyang baba.

Pumorma sa kanyang mga labi ang isang napakatamis, nakakasilaw, at perpektong ngiti—ang klase ng ngiti na magpapaisip sa buong sindikato kung baliw ba siya o sadyang mas mapanganib pa sa lalaking may-ari sa kanya.

“Ayusin mo ’yang hawak mo sa akin, Rafael,” Frances whispered sweetly through her dazzling, unbothered smile, her fingers digging lightly into the fabric of his sleeve. “Dahil kapag may nag-hamon sa akin dito... ikaw mismo ang ipang-hahampas ko sa kanila para magka-silbi ’yang six-foot-two mong katawan.”

A flash of raw, genuine heat lit up in Rafael’s eyes as a sharp, wicked smirk crossed his lips.

“I look forward to it, tesoro.”