Chapter 3:

ELARA'S POV:

Ilang araw matapos ang unang encounter nila, hindi pa rin mawala sa isip niya si Rhett Alaric. The man who’s been living rent-free in her mind and dreams for years. Hindi man maganda ang naging simula nila, she couldn’t help but admire him. There was something about his presence the way he carried himself, the quiet confidence in his eyes na hindi niya makalimutan.

Imposibleng maging sila, alam niya ‘yon. Pero siya na ang naging standard niya pagdating sa ideal guy. Kaya siguro kahit ilang beses pa siyang ligawan ng iba, she always ends up comparing them to him. Wala eh, no one came close.

At sa wakas, nalaman na rin niya kung sino ang lalaking matagal na niyang iniisip. Pero mapaglaro nga siguro ang tadhana, dahil kung kailan niya nalaman, saka pa siya nakagawa ng hindi magandang impresyon sa unang pagkikita nila.

Narinig niyang humikab si Theo, dahilan para maputol ang paglalakbay ng isip niya. “Nakakaantok naman,” pabulong nitong reklamo.

Binalingan niya ito. “Wala namang bago. Antukin ka talaga kahit kailan.” Napailing siya at inikutan ng mata ang binata.

Mahinang natawa si Theo, halos maglaho ang mga mata nitong chinito. “What will I do? Sobrang boring naman kasi. Paulit-ulit na lang ang routine dito,” anito sabay napabuntong-hininga.

“Ganyan ba talaga kapag genius?” biro niya. “Once na nakasanayang gawin ang isang bagay, bored agad?”

Nagkibit-balikat lang ito bilang sagot at tumayo mula sa counter. Napailing siya habang pinagmamasdan itong naglalakad palayo.

Bored nga talaga.

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RHETT’S POV:

After two hours of a mind-numbing meeting, Rhett returned to his office with his secretary trailing behind. He loosened his necktie and sank into his chair, exhaustion hidden beneath his calm facade.

“Sir, would you like me to buy you a coffee or should I make one?” tanong ng secretary.

“Buy me a coffee from the nearby shop. The usual.” He handed her his credit card without looking up.

“Noted, sir.” he left quietly.

As he scanned the pile of documents before him, his mind drifted back to that woman from the café. The one who looked at him like she’d known him for years . The fear, the awe — the strange familiarity in her eyes.

Weird. He never cared about strangers. But this time, something felt… different.

Who is that woman?

A knock broke through his thoughts. “Come in,” he said firmly.

His secretary entered, holding his coffee. “Here’s your coffee, sir. One-fourth tablespoon of sugar.”

He nodded curtly and went back to work. Time passed. Hours blurred. When he finally glanced at his wristwatch, it was already seven in the evening.

“Sir, pwede na po ba akong mauna?” mahina at nahihiyang tanong ng kanyang secretary.

He lifted his gaze. Cold, unreadable. “You can go now.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said, relief flooding his face as he exited.

Rhett stood and walked toward the glass wall. The city lights stretched endlessly below. Beautiful, alive, but distant. Just like him.

Then his phone rang.

The name flashing on the screen instantly hardened his jaw. Ricardo Alaric. His father.

He didn’t want to answer. But he did, just to end it quickly.

“Why did you call? Do you think I enjoy hearing your voice?” The words slipped out like venom, low and cold. Every syllable dripped with restrained anger.

“You’re still the same, Rhett. The disrespectful son of a bitch!” his father spat from the other end.

He let out a bitter laugh. “Are you referring to yourself?” he said sharply, his tone slicing through the silence.

Before Ricardo could reply, Rhett ended the call.

He stared blankly at the phone in his hand until the rage consumed him whole. In one swift motion, he slammed his fist against the wall. The pain was sharp, but he didn’t care. Pain felt better than the emptiness inside.

Blood trickled down his knuckles, yet all he could feel was hatred.

For his father.

The man who destroyed everything.

The man who replaced his mother before her grave could even fade.

His mother, the only person who made him feel loved was gone. And when she left, she took all warmth with her.

Rhett exhaled harshly, straightening his suit as if the pain could be brushed away. He needed air or alcohol.

He grabbed his car keys and left the building, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. The night greeted him with the faint hum of engines and the cold scent of rain. Sliding into his black Maserati, he started the engine and drove off, the city lights streaking past like fading memories.

Minutes later, he arrived at an elite bar. One of the few places where his name didn’t need an introduction. The bouncer nodded and let him in.

Inside, dim lights glowed against polished marble. The air smelled of whiskey, perfume, and smoke comes from a cigarette. He sat at the counter.

“Good evening, sir. What will you have tonight?” asked the bartender politely.

“The usual,” Rhett replied flatly.

Moments later, a glass of dark amber liquor was placed before him.

He took a long gulp, feeling the burn crawl down his throat, bitter and cold just like the life he’d built around himself.

“Another shot,” he muttered.

The bartender obliged, sliding another glass toward him.

Rhett stared at the drink, the golden liquid trembling slightly under the low light.

He wanted to forget even just for tonight.

Forget the father who never cared.

Forget the house that once felt like home but turned into a battlefield.

Forget the nightmares that still whispered his name every night.

If only his mother were still alive…

Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have turned into this.

He raised the glass, closing his eyes as the liquor burned his throat once more. The pain lingered but for Rhett Alaric, pain was the only thing that ever felt real.