LOGINThe night felt heavier than before. Kryzelle stood by the window of her apartment, staring down at the glowing streets of Makati. Cars moved like scattered stars below, unaware of the storm about to unfold above them. Her reflection stared back at her in the glass—uncertain, exposed, and trembling beneath a calm she no longer trusted. Behind her, Zander leaned against the bed, his presence filling the room without effort. Silence stretched between them, thick but not uncomfortable—just loaded. “You’re shaking,” he said quietly. She hadn’t noticed until he crossed the room and stood behind her. His hands hovered at her waist, not touching, waiting for permission. “I don’t know how to stop,” she admitted. He rested his palms gently on her hips, grounding her. “Then don’t. Let me hold you through it.” She exhaled slowly and leaned back into his chest. His warmth seeped into her, steady and unyielding. The moment felt intimate in a way words couldn’t describe—two people standing at
Kryzelle paced in her apartment, her hands clutching the strap of her bag as if it were a lifeline. The city outside hummed like a distant heartbeat, oblivious to the storm raging within her. Every passing second tightened the knot in her chest. “Zander, I…” she began, then stopped. Words failed her. Zander was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes dark with a protective intensity she had never seen before. His presence was grounding, yet it carried a weight that made her shiver. “You don’t have to explain everything,” he said softly. “But I need to know what I’m stepping into.” She met his gaze, panic threatening to break through. “It’s… it’s complicated.” He stepped closer, closing the distance. “Everything that matters is complicated. You don’t get to shut me out.” She swallowed hard, memories flooding back—the whispered threats, the late-night calls, Ethan’s smug smirk, the secrets she had buried deep inside her heart. “It’s Ethan,” she said finally. “He knows s
The streets of Makati were alive with neon and headlights, but Kryzelle felt like the city had disappeared. Her fingers clenched the strap of her bag as she walked, each step measured, each breath shallow. Zander walked beside her in silence. He didn’t need to say anything; his presence alone steadied her. “You know,” he finally said, voice low, “he’s been in your past for a reason.” She glanced at him, startled. “Why does it always sound like you know too much?” “I’ve been paying attention,” he replied simply. “To you.” Her stomach twisted. Stop thinking about that. She had rehearsed everything she would say to Ethan tonight, but now… she couldn’t even form a coherent thought. Zander’s gaze softened. “You’re scared.” “I am,” she admitted, quietly. “Good,” he said. “Because I’m angry.” She turned to him sharply. “Angry? At me?” “No,” he said firmly. “At him. At the fact that he thinks he still has control over you. And at myself for not being there sooner.” Kryzelle’s heart
Zander didn’t raise his voice. That was what scared Kryzelle the most. He stood by the window, phone still in his hand, his back rigid as the city stretched beneath him. Morning light painted the room gold, yet the tension between them felt sharp, cold. “You’re not meeting him alone,” he repeated, slower this time. Kryzelle wrapped her arms around herself. “You don’t understand.” “Then help me,” Zander said quietly. “Because right now, all I see is a man who thinks he still owns pieces of you.” That hit too close. “He doesn’t,” she said, her voice shaking. “Not anymore.” “Then why does he have leverage?” Silence. Zander turned to face her. There was no anger in his eyes—only concern mixed with something darker. Fear. “You trusted me enough to let me stay last night,” he said. “But you’re still shutting me out.” Kryzelle looked away. “Last night was a mistake.” His jaw clenched. “Was it?” She hated how easily he could unravel her. Before she could answer, her phone buzze
The café lights flickered back to life a second later. But something in Kryzelle didn’t. Her fingers remained frozen around her phone, the echo of Ethan’s voice still ringing in her ears. You know what happens if he finds out. She swallowed hard. “Kryzelle,” Zander said again, closer now. “What secret?” She forced herself to breathe. Once. Twice. “I… I need to go home,” she said finally, her voice unsteady. “Please.” Zander didn’t push. He simply nodded, already reaching for his jacket. “I’m walking you.” “That’s not—” “Not optional,” he said gently, but firmly. The Makati streets felt unusually quiet that night. Kryzelle hugged her bag closer to her chest as they walked, the city lights blurring past her vision. Zander kept pace beside her, close enough to be reassuring, far enough not to overwhelm. “You don’t have to explain anything,” he said after a moment. “Not if you’re not ready.” She laughed weakly. “You make it sound so easy.” “Nothing about tonight was easy,” he
Kryzelle felt the air change the moment she saw him. Her fingers tightened around the counter’s edge as the man standing near the register turned fully toward her. He looked exactly as she remembered—same sharp jaw, same confident posture, same unsettling familiarity that made her chest feel too tight. “Hi, Kryzelle,” he said, smiling as if they had parted on good terms. “Long time.” Her heart thudded painfully. “Ethan,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. “What are you doing here?” Behind him, she sensed movement. Zander had risen from his seat. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The tension in his posture was unmistakable—alert, guarded, eyes sharp as they flicked between Kryzelle and the stranger who clearly didn’t belong. Ethan followed her gaze and turned slightly, noticing Zander for the first time. “Oh,” he said, amused. “You have company.” Zander stepped closer, positioning himself just enough that Kryzelle could feel his presence beside her. Not t







