Chapter 6: The Face I Couldn’t Forget

Lucas POV

The image of that Filipina wouldn’t leave my mind.

Even inside my father’s lawyer’s office — with papers scattered, coffee steaming, and people rushing past — she was all I could see.

Her startled eyes.

That quick, nervous glance before she bolted out of the lobby.

What was she even doing there?

And why did she run the moment she saw me?

It’s not like I did anything wrong, right?

Okay, maybe I was a little drunk that night…

But as far as I remember, we ended on good terms.

“Actually, I already sent those employee documents to the immigration office,” the lawyer was saying, his voice snapping me back to the present. “I’m just waiting for the approval.”

“That lady,” I said abruptly, cutting him off.

He blinked, confused. “S-sir?”

I leaned back on the leather chair and crossed one leg over the other. “I saw two Asian women earlier. In the lobby. What were they doing here? As far as I remember, we’ve never had Asian employees in this firm.”

He froze — eyes darting, lips twitching.

“Ah, those Filipinas,” he stammered. “Well, um—it’s nothing, sir. They just came to ask for some, uh, legal advice.”

My brow arched. “Legal advice? Since when did you start offering consultations here in my father’s law firm?”

His face turned pale. “N-no, sir. Someone just referred them — an old colleague, a close friend — but I swear, I didn’t take them in officially.”

“Are you sure?” My tone sharpened. “Because if I find out you’re handling any private transactions outside of my father’s business, you already know what happens next.”

He swallowed. “Of course, sir. I know. This firm is exclusively for the Daniel Group of Companies. I wouldn’t cross that line.”

I gave him a thin smile. “Good. Because if there’s one thing I hate more than incompetence…” I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice. “It’s snakes in the company.”

His throat bobbed again.

And right then, my suspicion only deepened.

I wasn’t satisfied. Not even close.

Before leaving, I stopped by the reception.

“Mind if I take a look at today’s logbook?” I asked casually, flashing a polite smile.

The receptionist hesitated for half a second, then handed it over.

My fingers flipped through the pages until I found what I was looking for — two names scribbled neatly at the bottom:

Jessie Monterra

and

Dalia Reyes.

Each name had a phone number beside it.

I didn’t know who I was looking for, so I took both.

Once I was in my car, I dialed one of the numbers.

A few rings later, a soft, feminine voice answered.

“Hello? Good morning. This is Dalia speaking.”

My pulse spiked.

That voice… I knew it.

“Good morning,” I said, keeping my tone professional. “I’m calling from Daniels & Co. Law Firm. May I confirm if this is Ms. Dalia Reyes?”

“Yes, sir. That’s me. Is this about the visa I’m filing for?”

Visa?

“Uh, yes,” I replied carefully. “Actually, I just wanted to confirm the exact service you’re availing with our team.”

A frustrated sigh followed, then a faint mutter in Tagalog:

“Ano ba ’yan, ginagago ba ako nito?”

My jaw tightened. Oh, I understood that perfectly.

“Excuse me?” I asked, my tone sharper than intended.

“Oh! I-I mean, yes,” she stammered quickly, “I want to fix my visa status. I thought we already cleared that up. I even gave the down payment, right? Don’t tell me you haven’t received it yet?”

Damn it.

She thought I was him — the guy scamming her using the firm’s name.

I exhaled slowly, choosing to play along. “Ah, right. Sorry, I haven’t checked my account yet. Anyway, can we meet? I’d like to discuss this further, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, sir,” she said, her tone softening. “Just tell me where.”

“Good. I’ll send you the location.”

“Okay.”

Then she hung up.

For a moment, I just sat there — phone still pressed to my ear, her voice echoing in my head.

Dalia Reyes.

I couldn’t quite understand myself, but aside from wanting to uncover our lawyer’s possible scam,

I also felt a strange excitement at the thought of meeting her.

—

I picked Starbucks coffee shop for our meeting.

Because why not?

Honestly I didn’t have the time or energy to look for some fancy restaurant.

Plus, it was the nearest place I knew that didn’t require reservations or a necktie.

As I sat there, pretending to look calm, I caught myself… smiling for no reason.

Weird.

I’ve met a lot of women before — countless, actually — but this one felt different.

Was I… excited?

Nah.

Nervous?

For what?

I kept telling myself it was just curiosity.

Pure, harmless curiosity about one of my employees possibly scamming the company.

That’s all.

Okay fine — maybe I did want to see her.

But only to check how she’s doing.

You know, after that running-from-the-police episode.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” the sarcastic voice in my head teased.

“Yeah, right. You’re just checking if she got home safe?”

“Of course!” I argued with myself.

Right. Of course.

Damn it. What was wrong with me?

I was in the middle of that mental argument when the coffee shop door swung open.

And there she was.

Rushing in, bag in hand, looking around like she’d accidentally entered the wrong movie set.

I was about to wave at her —

but froze.

Because wow.

I already knew she was pretty, but seeing her up close?

Different story.

She didn’t even look fully Filipina — more like part Korean or Chinese, maybe because of those soft, slanted eye and cute button nose.Her ebony-black hair bounced with every step,while her small, heart-shaped face peeked out from behind those strands,And those pouty little lips? Yeah… let’s just say they made it very hard to pretend I wasn’t staring.

Her skin was fair and smooth, and her petite frame looked effortlessly confident in a crop top and leggings.

Everything in the right shape and place.

And by shape, I meant really good shape.

Nope. Stop. Don’t even go there.

“Get a grip, man,” I muttered under my breath, straightening up in my seat.

I wasn’t here for that.

Then she turned — and our eyes met.