II: The Price of Promise

Leona Reyes walked out of the Santiago corporate building and into the humid Makati afternoon, the city’s noise a sharp assault on her ears. Every car horn, every shout of a street vendor felt like a personal insult, a raw, grating sound that was the complete opposite of her home. It was a world she didn't belong in, a world of concrete and cold air, of men in suits who saw land not as life, but as a commodity. And she had just signed a contract making her the wife of one of them.

Asawa. The word felt bitter on her tongue, an ancient curse.

She ignored the driver who was waiting by a sleek black SUV. “Huwag,” she said, her voice clipped, eyes fixed on the street. "Just tell Don Antonio that I'll arrange my own ride." She needed to breathe, to feel something real again. The suffocating weight of that office, the oppressive cold of the air conditioning, and the memory of Julian Santiago’s cool, detached gaze had left her feeling like she was drowning. She needed to escape, to feel the sun on her skin and the ground beneath her feet.

The shame was a physical thing, a tight knot in her chest that felt like a betrayal of her very soul. She had fought her grandfather’s decision with every fiber of her being. She had argued, pleaded, and even threatened to cut all ties. “It’s a strategic alliance,” Lolo Arturo, the head of their family’s foundation, had told her, his voice weary but firm. “The logging company is gaining ground. We need their resources, Leona. And their political connections.”

He was talking about the notorious Reyes family rivals, a powerful conglomerate that was slowly encroaching on their land through corrupt local officials. Their money was drying up, and they were losing the fight to protect the very rainforest they had sworn to preserve. The Santiago family had promised a complete cessation of all logging activities in the area Leona protected, along with a massive endowment for her foundation, the very lifeblood of her conservation work. On paper, it was a fair trade. In her heart, it felt like a total surrender. She was selling herself to save the very thing she loved. What a joke. A deal with the devil, sealed with a pen.

She found a small, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop and sank into a chair by the window, watching the city go by. The noise of cars and people felt deafening, a stark contrast to the quiet symphony of the forest. All she wanted was to be back in Palawan. To feel the gentle rustle of the forest canopy above her, to smell the damp earth after a rain, to see the way the sunlight filtered through the leaves, like a promise. That forest wasn't just land to her; it was her home, her legacy. It was her father’s legacy.

Leona closed her eyes, and a different memory came to her. Her father, a simple man with calloused hands and a deep love for the forest, teaching her the names of every plant, every tree. He was the one who had first found the Dahon ng Buhay. He had seen its potential and had sworn her to secrecy, entrusting her with its care. "It's a gift from nature, anak," he had told her, his voice full of reverence. "We must protect it, not for us, but for all." He believed the plant held secrets that could benefit humanity, but only if its power was used responsibly. When the logging companies came, he had stood his ground. He had lost his life defending it. It wasn't an accident. It was murder. That’s what Leona believed, even if the authorities had dismissed it.

Julian Santiago represented everything her father had fought against. A man who saw the forest as a means to an end, a line on a balance sheet. He was a man who bought and sold lives with a single signature. She remembered the cold, detached way he had signed the paper, his face a perfect, emotionless mask. He hadn't even looked at her. Hindi niya man lang sinulyapan. He was just doing his part in a business transaction. And that was what infuriated her the most. He didn't see her as a woman, or as a person with a cause. He saw her as a tool. A means to an end.

A message buzzed on her phone, pulling her from her thoughts. It was her lead field researcher, a trusted friend from Palawan. Bad news. May mga bagong trespassers na nakita sa South Sector. Malapit sila sa... The message cut off, the signal lost in the remote part of the rainforest. Her heart slammed against her ribs. That sector was too close to her father's secret garden, too close to the Dahon ng Buhay. The thought of them finding it, of Julian's men getting there first, filled her with a new kind of terror.

A jolt of pure adrenaline shot through her. She didn't hesitate. She threw some bills on the table, grabbed her phone, and hailed a taxi. The anger and shame were still there, but now they were overshadowed by something more urgent: an icy dread for the place she loved more than life itself. The taxi driver, sensing her urgency, navigated the chaotic streets of Manila with ease, but to Leona, the traffic felt unbearable. Every red light, every slow car was a barrier keeping her from her home.

As she raced towards the airport, she thought of Julian. She was bound to him now, a legal contract making them one. But she knew this alliance was a lie. He wanted the plant for his family, a selfish, corporate mission. She wanted to protect the forest, her life’s work, and the memory of her father. They were on opposite sides of the same war.

This is not over, Mr. Santiago. She had told him that. Now, she would make him believe it. Their battlefield would not be a sterile office, but the wild, unpredictable heart of the Palawan rainforest. And in her world, she was the one who held all the cards. She would beat him at his own game, even if it meant she had to become a wife.