Chapter 3

Newton’s third law never made more sense to me than it did now. “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

Everything felt like that lately. For every good news… life slapped me with bad news twice as hard.

My parents packed their things. Sold what they could. They were heading back to the province, leaving me behind. The house? Sold too.

I didn’t want to leave. But without them… this house wasn’t home anymore. Staying would only make me lonelier.

Dad hugged me tightly. His voice cracked. “Take care of yourself, son. If you ever have a problem… call me, okay?”

I smiled weakly, burying my head against his chest. “Can I call if I burn the rice?”

He laughed, his eyes glassy. “Of course, you can, son.” His arms tightened around me. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks. Dad had always been my biggest supporter. Even when Anya and I were spoiled brats growing up, he never let us feel we lacked anything.

It sucked, starting from scratch. But this is my reality now.

“I’ll send my first salary to help with the debt,” I promised.

Dad shook his head. “No, son. I can handle this. Once I sell the business, I can pay off what we owe.”

Mom gently patted his shoulder. “Let her help, Romy. It will ease our burden. Don’t be too proud.”

“It’s not her responsibility, Joy.”

“It is now,” I cut in before they started arguing. “You’re my responsibility. Let me make up for everything.”

Dad sighed, clearly torn. “Just… eat on time, okay? Don’t skip meals.”

I hugged them both, clinging to that last moment of feeling safe. Life felt a lot easier when they were around. But I was an adult now. It was time to step up.

“We’re not leaving yet?” Anya whined from inside the car.

I rolled my eyes. “Aren’t you going to miss me?”

“Nope. Why would I?”

I reached through the window and tugged her hair playfully. She squealed and slapped my hand away.

I waved one last time as the car pulled out of the driveway. I blinked… and just like that… they were gone.

I stood there, alone in front of our house, watching the car disappear down the street. My knees felt weak.

How was I supposed to survive living alone? Nobody taught me that part. But life doesn’t wait. You have to figure it out yourself… ready or not.

Monday ,  First Day of Work

Nervous. Excited. Sleep-deprived. That summed up my mood.

I barely slept last night. My parents leaving still weighed on me, and I couldn’t stop thinking about work… my coworkers… and Jazper.

Has he forgiven me?

I didn’t want to be late on my first day. I wanted a clean record. But when did I see the MRT line?

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.

It looked like half of Manila was there.

I bolted outside to catch a taxi. Traffic was heavy, but at least we were moving. That hope shattered when we hit Guadalupe. The cars weren’t even crawling.

I checked the time. Thirty minutes to eight.

Panic rising, I shoved money into the driver’s hand and jumped out. I tried booking a motorcycle online. Within minutes? Fully booked.

Come on… I was losing hope fast.

That’s when a big motorbike pulled up beside me. The rider hopped off, dressed in full gear.

Confused, I froze as he casually grabbed my bag.

Before I could protest, he pulled off his helmet.

My eyes widened. His face… sharp features… fair skin… flushed cheeks. Foreign-looking. Definitely… rich-looking.

What the hell?

The man smiled, flashing a deep dimple on his left cheek. “Need a ride? Looks like you’re having a hard time out here.”

My defense system kicked in fast. I crossed my arms. “I’m not… some pick-up girl.”

He chuckled, not offended at all. “I didn’t say that. I just thought you looked… stranded. I’ve been there.”

I studied his face carefully. He didn’t look like a criminal. God, his face was too handsome to be one. But still…

“See that?” He pointed to the pole behind me. I turned and spotted the CCTV camera.

“I’ll even throw a peace sign if you want evidence,” he added, smirking. “In case you think I’m a handsome kidnapper.”

I almost rolled my eyes. “Why are you offering to help?”

“Because I know how this feels.” He shrugged. “Traffic. Late. Panic attack. Same boat. If you don’t want to ride, I’ll go.”

He slipped his helmet back on and climbed onto the motorcycle. The engine rumbled as he reached for the keys.

“Wait!” I called, holding up my hand. “I’ll pay you, okay? Fair deal.”

He laughed, the sound light and teasing. “No need. Do I look like I’m desperate for cash?”

“I don’t accept charity.” I raised my chin. “If I ride, I pay.”

He shook his head, amused. “You’re tiny, but your pride’s huge.”

“Tiny?!” I gasped, glaring at him.

He just started the engine, ignoring my outrage.

“Hey, wait!” I grabbed his bicep, instinct taking over. His arm was solid under my hand.

His brow arched. “Yes, baby girl? Can’t resist me now?”

I yanked my hand back. “Cut it with the ‘baby girl’ crap. And stop showing off your muscles.”

He snorted. “Don’t speak English too much, little nosebleed. I might faint.”

Cocky, handsome, and irritating. I rolled my eyes. “I hope everything bleeds.”

“Feisty,” he muttered, clearly entertained.

“Helmet?” I asked, pointing.

He reached into the compartment and tossed me a spare. My heart pounded as I climbed onto the big bike. It was my first time riding one this close to a stranger.

But the ride was smooth. The wind rushed past, my nerves slowly calming. I pointed out where I needed to stop, and he pulled over without a problem.

Alive. Safe. He wasn’t some crazy criminal after all.

“You work here too?” he asked, glancing up at the Gibson’s Corporation building.

I nodded, pulling off the helmet, but my eyes stayed on him.

“Yeah… I do. Why? Are you stalking me now?”

The man looked up at the towering building in front of us as I pulled off the helmet and handed it to him.

“You work here?” he asked casually.

“Yeah… why? You know someone inside?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.” He took the helmet from my hand, eyes glinting with amusement. “Need someone to pick you up later?”

I shook my head firmly. “No, thanks. I don’t know you.”

His dimple showed as he grinned. “You still need to pay me.”

I raised a brow. “I’m not paying with my body if that’s what you mean.”

He laughed, biting his lip. “Whoa, easy there. That’s not what I said. You’re fast… in more ways than one.”

Before I could answer, a loud honk startled us both. A sleek black Mercedes Benz pulled up behind the motorcycle. I couldn’t see inside; the morning sun was glaring straight into my eyes.

I fumbled in my wallet and pulled out a five-hundred peso bill, shoving it toward him.

“You serious?” he asked, eyeing the bill. “I thought it was your number.”

“Move,” came a deep, flat voice.

My stomach twisted. I straightened up, recognizing that cold tone instantly.

“Mr.Gibson… good morning, sir.” I forced a nervous smile.

Jazper didn’t even glance at me. His sharp eyes were fixed on the biker like he was sizing him up… or planning his funeral.

“Move your bike,” Jazper repeated, his voice calm but threatening. “Or I’ll ban it from this property.”

My heart pounded. Romeo wasn’t lying,  our boss had an anger problem… and I was now stuck between him and the guy who just given me a ride.

The biker raised his hands in surrender. “Chill, man. I’m leaving.” He paused, smirking. “Let’s say goodbye properly, ”

Jazper was already walking toward the building, tossing his car keys to the concierge without a word. The whole entrance went quiet. People stopped mid-step like royalty had just arrived.

I turned back to the biker, panicking.

“Who’s that guy?” he asked, genuinely confused. “Looks like he’s on his period.”

“Shh!” I hissed, eyes wide. “Don’t say that,  he’ll hear you!”

The biker tilted his head. “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

I fidgeted, adjusting my clothes. “Because if I don’t leave now, I’m late. And if I’m late again… I might get fired this time.”

I shoved the cash into his hand. “Here’s your change. Thanks for the ride!”

Then I bolted toward the building like my life depended on it,  which, honestly, it probably did.