Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 51 - Chapitre 60

“Stop the car here,” Flora Amor said softly when they neared her house. Dixal did as told, but before she could reach for her seatbelt, he leaned closer and began unbuckling it himself. “I can do it,” she murmured, trying to stop him, but he acted as if he hadn’t heard a word. “Amor,” he whispered, his breath brushing her skin, “do you still remember the day I gave you your first kiss?” “No,” she replied curtly. He lifted his gaze, eyes narrowing, studying her face as if searching for the truth. “It was just like this,” he murmured—and before she could move away, he cupped the back of her neck and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss began softly, tentative, almost pleading. She didn’t know why, but an urge rose within her—an impulse to kiss him back. When she did, the warmth between them flared, and suddenly his kiss deepened, burning through the silence until she felt herself respond in ways her mind couldn’t control. A faint sound escaped her throat before he finally pu

The elevator doors slid open, revealing yet another closed door. Flora Amor frowned in curiosity. What was this room? Could it be the conference room? She remembered Dixal saying they’d be attending a meeting. Moments later, the door opened. Dixal took her hand and gently led her inside. She scanned the room with furrowed brows. It looked nothing like a conference room—just a small office with a desk and two swivel chairs facing each other, a laptop resting on the polished surface. “You said we’re attending a meeting,” she murmured, noticing that no one else was there. “Yup,” he replied briefly, releasing her hand and gesturing for her to sit opposite him. He took the seat in front of the laptop. “And where are your colleagues?” she asked. “Hey,” he leaned toward her, pressing a finger to her lips as if to hush her. Then he opened a drawer, took out a small box, and retrieved a pen before tapping something on his laptop. She sat quietly, watching his every move. A

Dixal felt as if he were being cross-examined in court. Across the small café table sat the well-known business tycoon, Mr. Mathew De Ocampo, along with his COO—the same man Lemuel had spoken with the previous week. He knew De Ocampo by reputation—a meticulous billionaire who owned countless subdivisions and hotels across Cavite. From the look of him, the man was probably in his early sixties. Dixal was someone who exuded unshakable confidence when it came to business—composure carved into his every gesture. The only time that calm cracked was when conversations turned to his wife. But now, sitting across from this silent man whose thoughts were impossible to read, his usual poise faltered. The older man’s experience radiated like quiet authority, and for the first time in years, Dixal doubted whether he could actually get this deal signed. “So, how’s your business going, Mr. Amorillo?” De Ocampo finally asked, breaking the long silence that had settled in the cozy Beantage

“Are you sure this is authentic?” Dixal pressed, his voice taut as he scanned the live birth certificate his friend had handed him the next morning. His chest tightened when he saw the father’s name written there—Harold Salvador. “Yes. That’s exactly what the investigator turned over to me,” his friend replied, standing up from the long sofa and avoiding Dixal’s probing stare. He busied himself shuffling through the stack of folders on his desk. “Here, by the way, is the signed contract from Mr. De Ocampo yesterday. When do you plan to start the design? Didn’t you promise you’d personally handle his projects?” he asked, diverting the conversation without looking up. “You can’t hide anything from me, Lemuel. Tell me who that investigator is.” Dixal’s tone turned cold and unyielding as he gripped the document, his eyes narrowing on his evasive friend. “I told you, it’s authentic. You can even verify it with the PSA. Do you really doubt me now?” Lemuel snapped, frustration seeping

“Flor—?”The name barely left Anton’s lips when the gate swung open. He just stood there, staring at her as if the ground itself had shifted beneath him.“Hi, Beshie! How are you?” Flora Amor greeted with a shy laugh, feeling awkward under his stunned expression. Instead of hugging him, she gently held his arm and looped hers around it.“Flor… is that really you?” he asked, still sounding dazed as she pulled him toward the front lawn where a few guests had turned their heads to look at them—especially at her.“Seven years without seeing each other, and you already forgot what I look like?” she teased lightly, scanning the crowd for Mariel.“Where’s my beshie?” she asked, still clinging to his arm.“She’s… inside. With her parents,” he managed to answer, his voice unsure.“How did you even find our house?” he asked as he guided her toward the front door.“I asked Mariel for the address earlier before coming. Then I asked around along the way,” she said, smiling.The truth, though, was