STEP LOVE Loving My Wife's Daughter のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

( Drake’s POV) Minsan, akala mo perpekto ang larawan — hanggang sa mapansin mong may maliliit na bitak sa salamin. Hindi agad halata, pero naroon. At kapag tinignan mo nang mas malapitan… mapapansin mong unti-unti na itong nababasag. Ganito ko ilalarawan ang umagang ‘yon. Tahimik. Maaliwalas. Pero may something off. Something I couldn’t name. Nasa dining hall kami ng De La Joya estate — ako, si Cynthia, at si Liza. The first breakfast we’ve had as a complete family since everything became official. The chefs prepared a spread worthy of a monarch: fresh croissants, salmon, fruits flown from Italy, even Cynthia’s favorite Moroccan coffee. Pero kahit gano’n ka-bongga, parang may kulang. “Drake, darling,” Cynthia started, trying to sound casual habang nilalagyan ng honey ang toast niya. “Your assistant mentioned something about the board calling for an emergency meeting?” “Hmm.” I didn’t look up from my phone. “Yes. There’s tension about the Monaco expansion. I might fly out tomorrow

KABANATA 9 – THE FRAGRANCE OF FEAR ( Drake’s POV) Tahimik ang dagat. Tahimik — pero hindi payapa. Ang bawat hampas ng alon sa dalampasigan ay parang mahinang kumpas ng relo, paalala na kahit gaano kalaki ang pag-aari mo, hindi mo kayang kontrolin ang oras. At ngayong gabi, pakiramdam ko, ang oras mismo ay kalaban ko. “Drake,” tawag ni Cynthia mula sa veranda. Nakasuot siya ng puting dress, malambot sa hangin, parang nilikha para sa ilaw ng buwan. “Halika, dinner’s ready. Liza helped the chef tonight.” Ngumiti ako, pero pilit. “I’m coming.” Paglapit ko, bumungad ang maliit na mesa sa ilalim ng canopy lights — sparkling against the sea breeze. Si Liza, nakatalikod, tinutulungan ang chef maglagay ng last touches sa dessert. Ang buhok niya, mahaba at malayang nakalaylay sa likod, tinatangay ng hangin. For a moment, I just… watched. There was something hauntingly familiar about her. Not in the way she looked, but in the way she felt — unpredictable, magnetic, dangero

POV: Drake De La JoyaHindi ko alam kung kelan nagsimulang tumahimik ang bahay na ito.Hindi ‘yung tahimik na nakaka-relax — kundi ‘yung klase ng katahimikan na parang may humihinga sa dilim.Cynthia barely speaks to me now.She stays longer in her garden, avoiding the study, avoiding me.At kahit sinasabi kong ayos lang, alam kong hindi.Ako ang dahilan.“Sir, Ms. Liza is in the library,” sabi ni Ramon, isa sa mga butler, habang pinapasok ako sa mansion isang hapon.“Studying again?” tanong ko.He smiled faintly. “Mukhang hindi po. She was writing.”I nodded. Writing.That word echoed longer than it should have.Tahimik akong pumasok sa library, ang amoy ng lumang papel at kape ay bumungad sa akin.At nandoon siya — si Liza — nakasandal sa malaking armchair, may hawak na leather notebook.May mga hibla ng buhok na nahulog sa kanyang mukha, at bawat paggalaw ng kamay niya habang nagsusulat ay parang may sariling ritmo.“Late ka na namang umuwi,” sabi niya nang hindi tumitingin.“Habit

(Drake’s POV) There’s a rule I learned early in business — never show them you’re bleeding. Sa mundo ng mga magnanakaw ng kaluluwa at kalmadong assassin in tuxedos, appearance is armor. And tonight, I wore mine perfectly: black Armani suit, sapphire cufflinks, and the ghost of a smile. Ang venue ay parang sinadya para saktan ang mga nakaraan. Crystal chandeliers, champagne flutes clinking, and that kind of music that pretends to be elegant pero sa totoo lang, sinasakal ang utak mo habang pinapaalala kung gaano ka nag-iisa kahit surrounded ka ng tao. “Mr. De La Joya,” bati ng isang investor, stretching his hand. “Pleasure to see you.” I smiled, automatic. “Always a pleasure, Mr. Tan.” Pero ang mata ko, hindi sa kanya nakatingin. Nasa dulo ng ballroom si Cynthia. Blue silk gown, low back, hair pinned with silver clips that glowed against her skin. At sa gitna ng leeg niya—ang sapphire pendant. My sapphire. Our secret. She moved through the crowd like she was born to make m

Drake’s POVThere are nights when the city feels too loud—too alive—like every streetlight hums her name. Cynthia.And then there are nights when silence becomes dangerous, because in the stillness… I hear Liza.That night was both.Hindi ako makatulog. Not after seeing them together earlier—Cynthia laughing, Liza leaning in, their eyes glinting in the dim café light like a secret I wasn’t supposed to see.Dapat umiwas ako. Subalit hindi, dahil nanatili ako doon. Watching from my car across the street like some idiot caught between past and temptation.Cynthia’s laugh used to sound like home.Now, it sounds like a dare.At heto naman si Liza—damn her—she’s chaos wrapped in perfume and red lipstick. The kind of girl who talks back, looks you in the eye, and smiles like she knows you’ll break first.Nang makarating ako sa aming penthouse, the city was a blur below me. I poured whiskey, left it untouched, and stared at the sapphire pendant lying on the marble table. The one I gave Cynth