LOGINThe applause for Sandro Valderama’s announcement had long faded, but the air in the grand ballroom remained thick with tension. It was as if an invisible wave had crashed through the hall, leaving behind a wake of whispers, curious glances, and sharp, judgmental eyes all fixed on the woman standing beside the most powerful man in the room.Aria.The girl who used to be a ghost at these social gatherings, the one who blended into the shadows of the Rivera family, was now the sun around which everyone orbited. She stood perfectly still, her fingers lightly gripping the stem of a crystal flute. On the outside, she was the picture of elite composure, as if she had been born into this world of silk and scandals.But inside, she felt the crushing weight of every stare. She knew they were wondering. She knew they were doubting. Most of all, she knew they were waiting for her to trip over the hem of her designer gown.Across the room, Chloe Rivera felt like she was breathing glass. Her grip o
The night sky over the city was a deep, velvet indigo, but the Valderama Grand Hotel outshone every star. It stood like a golden palace, bathed in floodlights that made the glass exterior shimmer like liquid wealth. Outside, the rhythmic purr of high-end engines filled the air as a parade of Maybachs, Bentleys, and Ferraris crawled toward the red carpet. This was the annual Valderama Charity Gala—the single most exclusive event in the country’s social calendar. It was a place where reputations were built, and where the "small people" were never invited.Inside the grand ballroom, the atmosphere was suffocatingly opulent. A world-class classical orchestra played from a hidden balcony, their music weaving through the scent of expensive lilies and aged scotch. Men in bespoke tuxedos and women in gowns that cost more than a suburban house moved like chess pieces across the floor, exchanging gold-embossed business cards and rehearsed laughter.In a prominent corner, near a massive gilded m
The heavy silence in Sandro’s office was suddenly shattered. The double mahogany doors swung open with a violent force, and the click-clack of expensive designer heels echoed against the marble floor.A woman entered, smelling of Chanel No. 5 and entitlement. She was stunning—the kind of beauty that graced the covers of every high-fashion magazine. It was Isabelle Monteverde, the world-renowned supermodel who had been linked to Sandro in every tabloid for the past year. Her eyes, framed by perfectly winged eyeliner, scanned the room before landing on Aria.Her expression shifted instantly from a practiced pout to pure, unadulterated disgust.“Sandro, darling! Is it true?” Isabelle’s voice was high-pitched and sharp, like glass scraping against a chalkboard. “Jace told me you were busy, but I didn't think you were busy with... this. Who is this... beggar in your office?”She walked closer to Aria, circling her like a predator inspecting a piece of roadkill. She looked at Aria’s thinnin
The clock on the wall of a nearby convenience store struck 8:00 AM.Aria stood at the foot of the Valderama Tower, a structure so massive it felt like it was piercing the very fabric of the sky. It was a masterpiece of glass and reinforced steel, reflecting the morning sun with a blinding, diamond-like brilliance. To the rest of the world, this building was a landmark of national pride; to Aria, it looked like a fortress—impenetrable, cold, and dangerously high.She smoothed down her clothes for the tenth time. She was wearing her best outfit—a simple white blouse and a black pencil skirt. Although she had spent the night drying them with a stolen hairdryer in a cheap transit lounge, the fabric was clearly old and thinning at the seams. Compared to the high-fashion executives walking past her in their charcoal grey suits and Italian silk, she looked like a ghost from a different world.But as she touched the heavy, solid gold card in her pocket, her spine straightened. Hindi na ako pw
Ang bawat patak ng ulan ay tila karayom na tumutusok sa balat ni Aria. Basang-basa na ang kaniyang uniporme, at ang kaniyang maleta ay tila bumibigat sa bawat hakbang. Naglalakad siya sa gilid ng highway, hindi alam kung saan pupunta. Ang kaniyang phone ay low battery na, at wala siyang kahit isang sentimo sa bulsa.No home, no degree, no family, and a heart that was more shattered than the wine bottle on her apartment floor.“Ma... bakit mo ako iniwan?” she whispered into the howling wind. Her voice was thin, easily swallowed by the storm.The weight of the betrayal finally broke her. Aria collapsed on the muddy side of the road, her knees hitting the wet pavement with a dull thud. She sobbed, her tears mixing with the rainwater, as the flood started to rise around her ankles. At that point, she just wanted to disappear. Gusto na lang niyang maglaho. In a city of millions, who would even look for a girl who had been erased from her own life?Suddenly, a blinding, clinical white light
The sun rose over the city skyline, but for Aria, it was the darkest morning of her life. Hindi sa opisina ng architecture firm siya nagtungo. Instead, she found herself walking toward the University’s Administration Building, her legs feeling like lead. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot—namumugto sa magdamag na pag-iyak. Her mind was a chaotic mess, parang isang magulong sinulid na hindi na kayang kalasin.Every step she took toward the Dean’s office felt like a walk toward her own execution.When she pushed the heavy mahogany door open, she realized the "trial" was already in session. Sitting comfortably on the leather chairs were Chloe and her mother, Mrs. Elena Rivera—Aria’s stepmother. They looked impeccable, dressed in designer clothes, as if they weren't in the middle of destroying someone’s life. They both offered a thin, victorious smile the moment Aria entered.“Dean, heto na po ang original sketches ko,” Chloe said with a voice so sweet it was sickening. She placed a thic







