Chapter 3 Red Marker

Click.

The sound was almost imperceptible, but deadly in meaning.

From the rooftop across the street, the lens of a long-range camera snapped one more photo. The target: a private penthouse balcony where two silhouettes stood close—too close.

One male.

One female.

The man unmistakably Gabriel Buenavista.

The woman? Unknown—yet soon to become the most searched name in the country.

The email was sent seconds later.

Subject: Buenavista s Ghost Wife.

The next morning…

“CHINA. WAKE UP.”

She shot up, breathless. Gabriel’s voice echoed through her condo. Panic surged through her veins. "Anong—?"

But he was already pulling back the curtains, pacing fast, phone pressed to his ear.

“They leaked it,” he said darkly. “Someone saw us last night. Balcony. It’s on two gossip sites already. The photo is blurred but... you're in it.”

China’s throat dried. “Do they know it's me?”

“Not yet. But they will.”

She grabbed her phone, fingers trembling. True enough, a headline blinked at her:

“Who is the Mystery Woman Behind Gabriel Buenavista?”

Subheadline: Power CEO caught in intimate photo with unknown female in his condo. Rumors of a secret affair spark firestorm among investors and social circles.

She couldn’t breathe.

“They think I’m... a mistress?” Her voice cracked.

“You’re my wife,” Gabriel growled. “They just don’t know it yet.”

An hour later, at Buenavista Corp Headquarters...

The office was buzzing like a disturbed hive. Journalists swarmed outside the building gates. Employees murmured as China stepped out of the car, flanked by Gabriel’s private guards. Some stared. Some snickered. Some pitied her.

It was only a matter of time before someone connected the dots.

And when they did, hell would break loose.

Gabriel summoned an emergency board meeting.

Everyone sat around the U-shaped table—executives, legal counsel, public relations, even a few foreign stakeholders via video call.

Gabriel entered, tall and composed, with a scowl that could cut steel.

But China wasn’t beside him.

He had asked her to wait in the private lounge. “Let me handle this,” he said. “This is my war.”

She wanted to scream. It’s our war.

Inside the boardroom, a storm brewed.

“You brought scandal into the company,” hissed Mr. Hao, a senior partner. “We’ve worked decades building Buenavista’s image. And now you’re sneaking around with some unknown—”

Gabriel’s voice sliced through the room. “Watch your words.”

“Then answer us clearly,” said another. “Who is the woman?”

Silence.

“Are the rumors true?” asked one of the foreign board members. “Is she your mistress?”

Gabriel slowly stood, his jaw clenched.

“She’s not a mistress.”

“Then what is she?”

Silence again.

He looked at the window. Then at the flashing phones under the table. They were recording this.

And for the first time in years, Gabriel Buenavista—the man known for ruthlessness, control, and absolute power—hesitated.

Meanwhile, in the lounge…

China sat, watching the live feed from the security monitors.

Her heart dropped.

He wasn’t denying her.

But he wasn’t defending her either.

Later that day...

China stared blankly out the penthouse window. She had shut off her phone. She couldn't read one more comment. She couldn’t handle one more message with a screenshot.

— Is this you, Chin?

— Girl, spill! Are you the boss's mistress?

— You played us all.

— Gold digger vibes.

Even her old classmates were DMing her out of nowhere. Some congratulating. Most mocking.

Then came a message from an unknown number.

“Tell me what Gabriel paid you. I can double it to walk away.”

Her fingers tightened around the phone.

Who the hell was that?

Gabriel arrived late that night.

He didn’t speak at first. Just removed his coat and sat on the edge of her bed like the weight of the world was sitting on his back.

“Tell me the truth,” China said quietly. “Did you hesitate because I’m not good enough to be defended?”

He didn’t move. “I hesitated… because saying the truth out loud puts a target on your back.”

“There’s already a target.”

“I know,” he whispered. “And I’m going to erase it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet.”

That was what scared her the most.

The following morning, Gabriel s PR team went into overdrive. He released an official statement:

> “The woman in the photo is a close and trusted associate. All rumors beyond that are malicious and false.”

China’s blood turned to ice.

“Trusted associate,” she whispered, reading it again.

Not wife.

Not even partner.

Just... an associate.

That night, she didn’t wait for him to come home.

She packed a single suitcase and left.

Three days passed.

No calls.

No messages.

No flowers.

Until one morning, a car stopped in front of the small unit she had rented temporarily. She expected a delivery, maybe a guard.

But it was Gabriel.

He stood at the gate like a man who hadn’t slept. His eyes sunken. Shirt wrinkled. Something in his hand.

“Let me in,” he said.

“I’d rather not,” she replied through the screen.

He held up the object. A photo.

Her heart stopped.

It was their wedding photo.

A blurry candid taken by the boat captain who officiated. She remembered that night. The wind. The kiss. The raw honesty.

Gabriel pressed the photo to the gate.

“They’re going to find this eventually,” he said. “And when they do... I’ll have no choice but to tell the world.”

“Then why wait?”

“Because once I tell them... your life ends, China.”

She didn’t understand.

“Do you know who owns the media that posted the photo of us?”

She shook her head.

“My father’s second wife.”

China froze.

“She owns Chiu-News Group, under an alias. She’s been hunting for weakness in my empire for years. And now, she’s using you.”

“And you think keeping me a secret will stop her?”

“I think exposing you too early will destroy you before I can protect you.”

China stared at him. Then quietly asked, “Do you regret marrying me?”

He looked at her with eyes that almost broke.

“No,” he said. “I regret not doing it sooner.”

Napabunting hininga siya.Baliw talaga ang puso niya at di niya matitiis ang topak na to.

She let him in.

And that night, they made love again—not out of lust, but from raw desperation. Two souls clinging to each other while the world sharpened its knives.

The next day...

A letter arrived at Gabriel s office.

No sender. No seal. Just a plain envelope.

Inside?

A photo of China walking home from the grocery.

A red marker circled her face.

And one line typed in block letters:

“PUT HER BACK WHERE SHE BELONGS. OR WE WILL.”