Chapter 7: A STAGE OF GLASS

The gala was a storm of glitter and expectation. Chandeliers dripped light across the ballroom, gowns shimmered like liquid silk, and every conversation was sharpened with power. For most, it was a celebration. For Isabella Alcaraz Veyra, it was a trial, a challenge, a chance for proving — not only to her husband but also to herself.

Ang mga nagdaang araw ay halos wala nang naging pahinga si Isabella. Kinuha ni Leon ang isa sa pinakamagaling na consultant sa Manila, si Mrs. Santiago, at tinuruan nito si Isabella kung paano maglakad, huminto, at kung paano niya gagamitin ang katahimikan niya bilang proteksyon at panlaban. Oras ang binilang para turuan rin si Bella ng postura, diksyon ng pananalita, at kung paano siya huminga nang malalim sa mga pagkakataong nate-tense siya — hanggang sa manakit na lang ang lalamunan at ulo niya dahil sa pagod. Pero ang naging resulta naman nito ay ang pagkakakilanlan ni Bella sa kanyang sarili — kung paano niya dalhin ang sarili, ang kapangyarihan ng sariling mga salita, o ng kanyang katahimikan.

“You’re not here to survive,” Mrs. Santiago reminded her again and again. “You’re here to dominate without seeming like you’re trying.”

Sa mga panahong iyon, pinapanood siya ni Leon. Hindi naman nakikialam — he was too busy for that — pero kada matapos ang isang session, nakatayo ito sa may bukana ng pintuan na parang isang paalala, nakatitig kay Bella na walang kahit anong reaksyon. Minsan nagsasalita ito ng ilan niyang suhestyon, pero kadalasan ay tahimik lang itong nakatitig sa kanila. Para kay Bella, ang presensya ni Leon ay parang aninong hindi mawala-wala — na kahit anong gawin niya, hindi niya ito maitaboy. He always made Bella tense up — ultimately, his presence.

At ngayong gabi, ang lahat ng ginugol nila sa oras sa session — ang pawis at pagod ni Bella — pwedeng maging tagumpay o mapunta sa wala.

When the car rolled to a stop at the Sofitel Grand Ballroom, Bella’s hands trembled in her lap. Leon reached for her — not gently, not cruelly, simply inevitable — and she placed her fingers in his. The flash of cameras blinded her as they stepped out, questions raining down like bullets.

“Mr. Veyra, any word on the merger?”

“Mrs. Veyra, what do you say about the rumors—?”

Leon cut through the chaos effortlessly, his hand at the small of her back. To the world, he looked the perfect husband. To Bella, he was both shield and warden.

Sa loob, namamayani ang mga elitista ng Manila — mga politiko, business tycoons, mga mayayaman at matatandang pamilya na halos nakaukit na sa buto ng siyudad ang kanilang mga pangalan. Halos lahat ng mga mata ay napunta kay Leon nang pumasok siya. Ramdam ni Bella ang bigat ng mga tingin na halos tumagos sa kanya. She knew it — those were the stares of people waiting for her to stumble, hinihintay siyang madapa, magkamali, mabigo. Pero alam ni Bella sa kaloob-looban niya na that is not happening– hindi niya iyon hahayaang mangyari.

The program unfolded with practiced luxury: a string quartet, champagne, polite speeches about philanthropy and progress. Bella sipped sparingly, her mind a taut string.

Then came her turn.

“Mrs. Isabella Veyra,” the emcee announced. “Our newest face in the Veyra legacy, who wishes to share a few words.”

Her pulse thundered as she rose. She felt the brush of Leon’s gaze on her back — steady as a command.

The podium loomed, the microphone gleaming. For a heartbeat, all she heard was her own breathing. Then she remembered Mrs. Santiago’s final words: Own the silence before you own the room.

She let the quiet stretch. Eyes leaned in, conversations stilled. Then she spoke.

“It’s true,” simula niya, mahina pero malinaw, “that standing here tonight feels… daunting. The Veyra name carries weight—history, power, and expectation.” Huminto siya at hinayaan na maglakbay ang kanyang paningin sa buong hall. “But weight is not something I fear. I was raised to carry it.”

A murmur of approval stirred. She pressed on, careful, deliberate.

“I did not grow up in boardrooms. I grew up in the halls of the Alcaraz estate, where storms tested us more often than sunshine did. My family has known whispers, mistakes, even ruin. Some of you know this. Some of you count on it.”

The words sharpened, her tone steel beneath silk — like an arrow made of air, more deadly than steel.

Isang boses ang nangibabaw mula sa kaliwang bahagi ng hall — malakas na sapat para masira ang katahimikan sa mga nakikinig kay Bella.

“Resilience is admirable, Mrs. Veyra. But what of your family? Rumor has it the Alcaraz household is crumbling. How do you expect to stand beside Mr. Veyra when your own name is in ruins?”

Gasps. Murmurs. The trap was set.

Nanikip ang dibdib ni Bella sa kanyang narinig, pero imbis na lumubog siya sa podium, mas lalo niyang tinaasan ang noo at ngumiti nang tipid. Sinalubong niya ang mata ng lalaking nagsalita at hinayaan na umikot ang kanyang paningin sa buong hall, na para bang nag-iisip pa kung kailangan bang sagutin ang katanungan ng lalaki o hindi.

Nang magsalita siya, siya ay mahinahon — na para bang wala lang sa kanya ang epekto.

“It’s true. My family has faced storms. But let me ask this—what is a name worth if it has never been tested? What pride is there in a legacy untouched by hardship, if no one has ever learned to rebuild it?”

A clapback. She showed a playful smile, and then the room stilled.

Bella’s lips curved faintly. “The Alcaraz name may have stumbled, but we have not fallen. And as for standing beside Mr. Veyra—” her eyes flicked briefly toward Leon, holding steady—“power isn’t proven by hiding from ruin. It’s proven by rising from it. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is something I know how to do better than most.”

Namayani ang katahimikan nang ilang segundo bago ang masigabong palakpakan — malakas, masigabo. Ang lalaking sumubok sa kanya ay napayuko na lamang.

Bella dipped her head once, elegant, controlled, before stepping back.

Akala ni Bella, doon na matatapos ang problema.

As she returned to her seat, a woman approached her in passing — poised, elegant, her black gown as sharp as her eyes. Bella recognized her instantly: the same director from Leon’s board, the one who had warned her days ago.

“Impressive speech,” the woman murmured, her smile polite but edged. “But remember, Mrs. Veyra — applause fades quickly. One strong moment doesn’t mean they’ll accept you tomorrow. You’ll need more than a clever retort to hold this family’s respect.”

Napahinga nang malalim si Bella, pero pinilit niyang maging composed. “Respect isn’t given,” malumanay niyang sagot. “In our world, it’s taken. And I intend to take it.”

For the first time, the woman’s expression flickered — surprise, then a glint of interest. She inclined her head and moved on, leaving Bella standing taller than before.

From across the room, Leon’s gaze tracked the exchange. He said nothing, but the faint curl at the corner of his mouth told her he had noticed everything.

The rest of the evening blurred: more speeches, more toasts, more music. Bella smiled, she moved gracefully, she played the part. But under it all, a current of something new throbbed inside her — not just fear, not just survival.

Power.

Nang matapos ang gala, halos maghahatinggabi na. Nang makapasok sila sa kotse, doon pa lang nakahinga nang maluwag si Bella.

Leon’s voice broke the silence, low and edged with something dangerous. “You silenced them, wife.”

She glanced at him, startled. All that poise, composure — only Leon could break it. Only his husband.

His eyes gleamed. “Careful, Isabella. You’re playing with fire.”

Her hands tightened on her gown. “Maybe it’s time they burned.”

For a heartbeat — silence. Then Leon’s low laugh filled the car, rich and unnerving.

Bella turned to the window, her reflection pale but unflinching. Tonight, she had stood in his world and not only survived — she had claimed space.

And she knew this was only the beginning.