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Lines Of Loyalty

ผู้เขียน: Atty. Catherine S. Parino
last update วันที่เผยแพร่: 2026-03-21 20:50:30

The words sit between us like a crack in glass.

The driver works for your father.

For a moment, I’m not sure I heard Adrian correctly. The penthouse office feels suddenly smaller, the air tighter, the silence louder.

“My father,” I repeat slowly.

“Yes.”

Adrian’s voice remains calm, but there’s something measured in it now. Careful. Controlled.

I walk slowly toward the desk. “Who exactly?”

He turns the phone toward me. A name fills the screen.

Rafael Mendoza

Executive Security – Valez Urban Development

My stomach tightens.

“That’s… not possible.”

“You recognize him?”

“I’ve seen him before.”

“Where?”

“At my father’s corporate events.”

The memory is faint but clear enough: tall, quiet, always standing near the exits with an earpiece. Security. Not an executive. Security.

“That doesn’t mean he was acting under orders,” Adrian says.

“I know.”

But the possibility presses heavily against my ribs.

“What does he do exactly?” I ask.

“Head of executive transport security.”

“So he manages company vehicles.”

“Yes.”

“Which explains the SUV.”

“Yes.”

I stare at the name again.

“And the driver?”

Adrian exhales slowly. “He claims he was performing a routine pickup.”

I blink. “A pickup?”

“Yes.”

“At two in the morning?”

“Correct.”

“And he just happened to follow my car for three blocks?”

“That’s his statement.”

My pulse quickens. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I agree.”

I walk to the window again, running a hand through my hair. The skyline looks different now. Sharper. More dangerous.

“My father wouldn’t do that,” I say quietly.

“I’m not accusing him.”

“But the car belongs to his company.”

“Yes.”

“And the driver works for him.”

“Yes.”

The logic is unavoidable. But something inside me still resists the conclusion.

“My father is ruthless,” I say. “But he’s not reckless.”

Adrian doesn’t respond immediately. When he does, his tone is careful.

“Sometimes powerful men don’t act directly.”

“You think someone inside his company ordered it.”

“It’s possible.”

“Marcus works there.”

“Yes.”

The name lands heavily between us. Marcus Dela Torre. The man I remember loving. The man currently appearing in news headlines questioning my stability.

“Do you think Marcus would do something like that?” I ask quietly.

Adrian studies me for a moment. “What do you think?”

“I think Marcus is strategic.”

“That’s true.”

“But I don’t think he’s violent.”

“That’s also possible.”

I fold my arms. “You’re not giving me answers.”

“I’m giving you space to reach your own conclusions.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a lawyer again.”

He almost smiles. “It’s also respectful.”

Silence settles.

Then Adrian’s phone vibrates again. He checks the screen.

“This is Daniel.”

“The investigator?”

“Yes.”

He answers the call, placing it on speaker.

“Go ahead.”

Daniel’s voice comes through the phone, slightly distorted.

“We spoke to Mendoza again.”

“And?”

“He insists the SUV wasn’t pursuing Mrs. Reyes.”

“What was it doing?”

“Following instructions.”

My heart jumps. “What instructions?” Adrian asks.

“That’s the problem.”

A pause crackles through the speaker.

“He says the order didn’t come from Valez Urban Development.”

Adrian’s eyes narrow slightly. “Then where?”

Another pause.

“He says the order came from a private number.”

My pulse spikes. “Anonymous?”

“Yes.”

“Did he save the number?”

“No.”

“Convenient.”

Daniel exhales. “There’s one more detail.”

“What is it?”

“The call was placed twenty minutes before the accident.”

My breath catches.

“So someone directed him to that street.”

“Yes.”

“And he followed my car.”

“Correct.”

The room goes quiet again.

Adrian’s voice lowers slightly. “Daniel.”

“Yes?”

“Trace the phone routing.”

“We’re already working on it.”

“Good.”

The call ends.

The silence that follows feels heavier than before.

“So Mendoza didn’t decide to follow me,” I say.

“No.”

“Someone told him to.”

“Yes.”

“And they used a private number.”

“Yes.”

I turn toward Adrian. “That means the person behind this didn’t want to be identified.”

“Correct.”

“But they knew exactly where I’d be.”

“Yes.”

The realization creeps slowly through me.

“That means…”

My voice trails off.

Adrian finishes the sentence for me.

“They knew your schedule.”

My chest tightens.

“Which means the list of suspects just got smaller.”

“Yes.”

“How small?”

“Very.”

I stare at him. “You think someone close to me leaked my location.”

“I think someone with access to you did.”

“Inside Reyes Holdings?”

“Possible.”

“Inside Valez?”

“Also possible.”

“And Marcus?”

“Yes.”

My pulse quickens again. Everything suddenly feels tangled. Corporate alliances. Family loyalties. Old relationships.

“You realize what this means,” I say quietly.

“Yes.”

“It means the person responsible might be someone I trusted.”

“Yes.”

The word lands softly. But the weight behind it is crushing.

I sit down slowly in the chair beside the desk. For the first time since waking up from the crash, I feel something dangerously close to fear.

“What if I never see it coming?” I whisper.

Adrian walks around the desk and stops in front of me.

“You will.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because you’re not alone.”

His voice is calm. Steady. And something about that steadiness pulls me back from the edge of panic.

“You keep saying that,” I murmur.

“Because it’s true.”

I look up at him. “Why are you so certain?”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second. Then he answers quietly.

“Because protecting you is the one decision I never question.”

The words hit deeper than expected. Something warm and fragile spreads through my chest.

“Even now?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Even though I don’t remember loving you?”

“Yes.”

The sincerity in his voice is almost unbearable.

“You’re very stubborn,” I say softly.

“So I’ve been told.”

“By me?”

“Frequently.”

A faint laugh escapes me. And for the first time tonight, the tension eases slightly.

But Adrian’s phone vibrates again. He glances at the screen. Another message from Daniel. His expression tightens.

“What now?” I ask.

Adrian reads the message carefully. Then he lifts his eyes to mine.

“They traced the call.”

My pulse spikes again. “Already?”

“Yes.”

“Where did it come from?”

Adrian hesitates. Just long enough to make my stomach drop.

“Adrian.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me.”

His voice lowers slightly.

“The call…” He turns the phone toward me.

“…came from inside Reyes Holdings.”

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  • UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME   The Man Who Stayed

    The rain hasn’t stopped since afternoon.It drums against the tall windows of the Reyes penthouse, turning the city outside into a blur of gray lights and restless shadows. The sound is relentless, like the city itself is reminding me that storms don’t end just because you want them to.I stand near the window with my arms wrapped around myself. My phone screen glows faintly in my hand.The message.The video.The humiliation.Marcus Dela Torre and I.In a parking garage.Too close.Too intimate.Too convincing.Anyone watching it would believe the same thing. That I betrayed Adrian Reyes.My stomach twists.I should leave.That thought has been circling my mind for the last hour. Leave before Adrian sees it. Leave before he looks at me with disappointment. Leave before he confirms what everyone already believes.The elevator door opens behind me.My breath stops.Adrian has arrived.I don’t turn around. I can hear his footsteps crossing the marble floor. Slow. Measured. Calm. Always

  • UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME   An Offer of Alignment

    The words refuse to settle.The call came from inside Reyes Holdings.I stare at Adrian’s phone as if the message might change if I look long enough. But it doesn’t. The investigation team’s report remains on the screen.Call origin traced to internal Reyes Holdings routing hub.My pulse beats harder.“That’s impossible,” I say quietly.Adrian doesn’t respond immediately. “Is it?” he asks.I look up sharply. “You think someone inside your company tried to run me off the road?”“I think someone inside the building used our network.”“That’s not the same thing.”“No.”“But it narrows the field.”The room feels colder suddenly.“How narrow?” I ask.Adrian picks up the phone again. “Daniel’s team is tracing which internal access point routed the call.”“How many people have access to those systems?”“Hundreds.”“That’s not narrow.”“It will be.”“How?”“Security badge logs.”The realization creeps slowly into place.“You’re checking who was in the building that night.”“Yes.”“And compari

  • UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME   Lines Of Loyalty

    The words sit between us like a crack in glass.The driver works for your father.For a moment, I’m not sure I heard Adrian correctly. The penthouse office feels suddenly smaller, the air tighter, the silence louder.“My father,” I repeat slowly.“Yes.”Adrian’s voice remains calm, but there’s something measured in it now. Careful. Controlled.I walk slowly toward the desk. “Who exactly?”He turns the phone toward me. A name fills the screen.Rafael MendozaExecutive Security – Valez Urban DevelopmentMy stomach tightens.“That’s… not possible.”“You recognize him?”“I’ve seen him before.”“Where?”“At my father’s corporate events.”The memory is faint but clear enough: tall, quiet, always standing near the exits with an earpiece. Security. Not an executive. Security.“That doesn’t mean he was acting under orders,” Adrian says.“I know.”But the possibility presses heavily against my ribs.“What does he do exactly?” I ask.“Head of executive transport security.”“So he manages company

  • UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME   The Space Between Us

    Sleep refuses to come.The city is quieter tonight, but my mind refuses to follow its rhythm. Every time I close my eyes, I see the same thing:Headlights.Rain on the windshield.A dark SUV closing the distance behind my car.And then—Nothing.A missing moment. A piece of time someone erased.I exhale slowly and sit up in bed. The digital clock beside the nightstand glows 2:13 AM.Across the penthouse, a faint strip of light spills from beneath Adrian’s office door.Of course he’s awake.I slip out of bed and pull on a soft sweater before walking quietly through the living area. The penthouse feels different at night—less like a luxurious space and more like a quiet observatory suspended above the city.Adrian’s office door is half open.Inside, he sits behind his desk, sleeves rolled to his forearms, a tablet glowing in front of him. Several printed documents are spread across the dark wood surface. Investigation reports.He looks up the moment he hears me.“You should be asleep,”

  • UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME   Pressure Points

    By the time we leave the boardroom floor, the building already feels different.Tighter.Charged.Word travels fast inside Reyes Holdings, and nothing travels faster than fear. Directors who avoided looking at me earlier now glance quickly when I pass, their curiosity barely concealed.My accident.The footage.The possibility that someone tried to force my car off the road.Rumors spread like electricity through glass hallways.Adrian walks beside me, calm as ever, his stride measured and unhurried. If he feels the shift in atmosphere, he doesn’t show it. But I know him a little better now. Enough to recognize the signs. He’s already planning three moves ahead.---The InvestigationHis office is larger than I expected.Minimalist. Dark wood, steel accents, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Hudson. The room feels less like an office and more like a command center.Adrian closes the door behind us. Then he picks up his phone.“Daniel,” he says calmly.A pause.“Yes. I want the

  • UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME   The Aftermath

    The boardroom empties slowly.One chair scrapes against the marble floor. Another director gathers his tablet with deliberate calm, as though the room has not just watched a video suggesting my accident might have been deliberate.No one looks directly at me.Not out of respect.Out of calculation.Board members file out in quiet clusters, murmuring low enough that their words dissolve into the hum of the air-conditioning system. Their footsteps echo along the glass corridor outside, fading one by one until the heavy doors swing shut.Silence finally settles.Only Adrian and I remain.The city spreads behind him through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan glowing under the late afternoon sun. Traffic moves in slow silver lines below. From this height everything looks controlled. Ordered. Predictable.Nothing like the chaos inside my mind.Adrian stands at the head of the table, one hand resting against the polished obsidian surface, the other in his pocket. His posture is composed

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