Library

Maghanap

Home / Romance / Fractured Desire / Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Lahat ng Kabanata ng Fractured Desire: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

23 Kabanata

TEASER

Adrian POVI had already figured out that people were quite predictable a long time ago. Greed, lust, envy - they all were just different forms of the same currency. This was also true about Cassandra Ramirez. Pretty on the outside, but with poison inside. I turned down her offer once and since then she hadn't stopped holding a grudge against me. That was why right after the moment I saw her cornering Elara Santos at that networking gala, seeing her smile sharpened like a blade, I knew perfectly well what she was up to.She was wounded, still a bit naive, too trusting, and somewhat awkward from the experience.I saw Cassandra moving closer to Elara, her champagne glass dangerously tilted over Elara's sketch portfolio. An action - to destroy the designs, the project, and the woman.Not waiting for Elara's reaction, I acted. With my hand, I caught Cassandra's wrist when she was going to throw the wine on Elara.“Careful,” I said, my voice low enough to freeze her smile. “You wouldn’t wan

CHAPTER 1

Elara POVWhen I arrived at the restaurant, I was met with an amazing and cosy odor of garlic and wine, the kind of scent that envelopes you the moment you enter—full, alluring, inviting both warmth and satisfaction. Above my head the chandeliers were shining with their golden light, and this light was spreading over the shiny marble floor and the immaculate white tablecloths. The sound of glasses clinking, people's voices mingling, the quiet and sweet melodic playing of violins—all this I felt around me like a fog of beauty.With my other hand, I held on to the small velvet box as I entered La Riviera by force with my shoulder, the most expensive and most luxurious restaurant in town. It felt like the box was way heavier than it should have been - not because of what was inside but because of what it meant. My heart was racing like crazy, every beat it was throwing up a cocktail of panic, expectation, and love.Breathe, Elara. Just breathe.I mouthed the words to myself, unsteady but

CHAPTER 2

Elara POVThe maître d’ called after me, waiters whispered in alarm, and I felt every pair of eyes burning into my back as I stumbled toward the door. None of it mattered.“I can’t—” I choked, my breath rattling as my knees threatened to give out. “I can’t do this.”My legs buckled as I stopped near the curb, gasping, clutching at myself like I could physically hold the pieces of my chest together. Tears blurred the streetlights into messy halos of gold and white.I wrapped my arms around myself, shaking violently. The sobs tore out of me before I could stop them. I tried to swallow them down, but they clawed their way out anyway.My bag buzzed suddenly, a sharp vibration that made me flinch. My phone. I yanked it out with trembling hands.“Don’t,” I hissed through clenched teeth, my hands shaking harder. “Don’t you dare act like you care now.”Daniel’s name flashed across the screen. And then Cassandra’s. One after the other. Over and over.I laughed bitterly when I saw Cassandra’s n

CHAPTER 3

Elara POVThat night, I sat on the floor of my apartment surrounded by half-packed boxes. Cardboard towers leaned against the walls like silent witnesses, and every object I touched carried a memory sharp enough to cut me.The chair Daniel once teased me about. The shelf where Cassandra had set her coffee during study nights. The framed photos I had flipped face-down so I wouldn’t have to look at them.All of it felt poisoned.On the coffee table sat the small velvet box. The cufflinks. My fingers trembled as I picked it up, the lid half-open, glimmering weakly under the lamplight.I whispered to myself, bitterly. “Stupid. You saved up for weeks, Elara. For this?”The silver caught the light, mocking me. I had pictured him wearing them at a pitch, at our wedding. They weren’t cufflinks anymore—they were my faith, my future, my trust… all broken.My chest tightened, my throat closing around the weight of it.I held them over the trash bin, my hand shaking. I couldn’t let go. Not yet.“

CHAPTER 4

Elara POVUntil one rainy afternoon, everything changed.I sat in a corner café, sketching by the rain-streaked window. My coffee had long gone cold, but I cradled it anyway. My glasses slipped down my nose as I scribbled over a design draft.And then I felt it.The air shifted.The door opened, and he walked in.Tall. Broad-shouldered. Sharp black suit tailored to perfection. His stride deliberate, confident, like he owned every inch of space he stepped into. Conversations faltered, people instinctively shifted aside.His presence was a storm in human form.The barista stammered, nearly spilling his coffee as he murmured a single low word, “Thanks.”And then his eyes swept the café.Until they found me.For the briefest moment, the world stopped. His gaze pierced through me, stripped me bare. My heart tripped over itself, my fingers curling around my pen like it was the only anchor left.I couldn’t look away.My lips parted, and before I could stop myself, I whispered, “Don’t stare,

CHAPTER 5

Elara POV His words lingered in the air, heavy and dangerous. My pen slipped from my hand, clattering against the table, but I didn’t move to pick it up. His presence was too close, his eyes pinning me down as if the whole room had vanished and it was just us. “I don’t have time for games, Mr. Velasco,” I said, though my voice came out lower than I intended. “Good,” he murmured. His gaze dipped briefly to my lips before snapping back to my eyes. “Neither do I.” The silence between us was sharp, like a string stretched too tight, ready to snap at any second. The hum of the lobby faded into nothing. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the subtle scent of his cologne—dark, woodsy, commanding. I forced myself to move, to break whatever spell he was weaving. I bent down to retrieve my pen, but before I could grab it, his hand was already there. Our fingers brushed. Electric. Immediate. I snatched my hand back as if burned, clutching the pen like it was a weapon. “Thank you,” I

CHAPTER 6

Elara POV I sank into my chair, pulling my sketchbook toward me. Work was safe. Work would never let me down. But when I moved my pencil on the paper, I didn't see floor plans or layouts - I saw him. Broad shoulders, sharp jaw, eyes that stripped me down in a way that no other man had. I threw the pencil down, angry at myself. "God, Elara, get a hold of yourself." A knock shook me out of it. My heart jumped up, stupid and not ready. I was not expecting anyone. For a moment, the irrational panic whispered - what if it was him? But it was just my neighbor when I opened the door, an elder woman from downstairs with a basket of puto. "Elara, iha," she smiled sincer

CHAPTER 7

Elara POVI hated galas. The gowns, the polite laughter, the careful choreography of power—it all felt like theater. But when Marco from the office pressed an invitation into my hand and said, “It’s exposure, Elara. You’ll meet investors here,” I knew I couldn’t say no.So, I found myself in a borrowed dress, my hair pinned neatly, clutching my sketch portfolio like it was armor. The ballroom glittered with chandeliers and crystal glasses, the air perfumed with wealth. I reminded myself this was about business. Nothing else.I hadn’t expected to see her.Cassandra Ramirez stood across the room, radiant in crimson silk, laughter dripping from her lips like poison-coated honey. She hadn’t changed—still magnetic, still dangerous. My stomach tightened, but I forced my steps toward the networking tables. I would not let her ruin this night.“Elara Santos.” Her voice slithered behind me.I stiffened before turning. Her smile was all sugar, her eyes knives. “Cassandra.”“You’ve… adjusted.” S

CHAPTER 8

Elara POVThe next morning, the world felt strangely heavier—like the air itself remembered the tension from the gala. I tried to shake it off with strong coffee and tighter focus, telling myself it was just work. Nothing else.But my reflection in the mirror betrayed me. My eyes lingered on my own lips, as if they still remembered the ghost of his words:“You’ll still think about this. About me.”And damn it, I did.By the time I arrived at the construction site, the Manila sun had no mercy. The clang of metal, the hum of machinery, and the scent of wet cement filled the air. I tied my hair back, adjusted my helmet, and grabbed my clipboard—my armor for the day.“Ms. Santos!” one of the foremen called out, waving me over. “We’re aligning the upper framework. You might want to check before we finalize the beam placement.”“Got it,” I said, forcing a steady voice. Work was safe. Work didn’t flirt back.I crouched near the plans spread across the makeshift table, tracing the measurement

CHAPTER 9

Elara POVI thought things would settle down after Cassandra’s little performance, but peace was never her language.It started with emails that went missing. Then calls that never reached me. Then whispers—low enough to sound harmless, sharp enough to wound.By Monday, one of the project heads told me a rumor was spreading that I’d stolen design drafts from another firm. By Tuesday, a supplier pulled out without warning. By Wednesday, even the secretaries were watching me like I was a bomb about to go off.And by Thursday, I knew exactly who was behind it.Cassandra Ramirez didn’t need to be in the room to destroy it. She only had to plant the right words in the right ears and watch everything crumble.I marched into Velasco Corp that morning with fire in my veins. I was tired of being the victim in her game.The glass walls of the boardroom reflected my anger back at me. Inside, the senior managers sat stiffly, waiting for Adrian. When he finally walked in, the entire room fell si

PREV

NEXT

I-scan ang code para mabasa sa App

DMCA.com Protection Status