All Chapters of Falling for Rich Cappuccino : Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

Kryzelle Rivera wiped the counter for the third time that morning, her fingers sticky from spilled caramel syrup and her apron dotted with coffee stains. It was another busy Saturday at Café Aroma, the cozy little coffee shop tucked in a corner of Makati that somehow managed to attract both regulars and curious passersby. “Good morning, Kryzelle! You’re glowing today,” chirped Mae, her friend and coworker, stacking cups beside the espresso machine. Kryzelle rolled her eyes playfully, adjusting her hair. “Mae, you say that every morning. One of these days, I’m going to spill coffee just to see your reaction.” Mae laughed, a sound as bright as the morning sun streaming through the café windows. “Don’t you dare. You know how Mr. Castillo hates messes.” Kryzelle froze mid-wipe. “Mr. Castillo? Who’s that?” Just as she asked, the café door swung open with a soft chime, and Kryzelle’s eyes immediately landed on him. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Impeccably dressed. And annoyingly good-

Kryzelle tried not to notice him. That was her first mistake. Zander Castillo sat by the window, one long leg crossed over the other, his phone resting forgotten on the table as he watched the café like he owned the place. Or perhaps, like he was waiting for something—or someone. Every time Kryzelle lifted her eyes, she found him already looking at her. Stop it, she told herself. You’re working. But it was hard to focus when awareness clung to her skin like static electricity. She could feel him there, even without looking—his presence steady, unhurried, as if he had nowhere else he needed to be. Mae leaned closer, her voice low. “You know he’s been staring at you for five minutes straight, right?” Kryzelle nearly fumbled a cup. “He has not.” Mae peeked over her shoulder. “Correction. Six.” Heat crept up Kryzelle’s neck. “Please stop counting.” She risked a glance. Bad idea. Zander’s gaze met hers instantly, like he had been waiting for that exact moment. Instead of lookin

The café lights flickered back to life a second later. But something in Kryzelle didn’t. Her fingers remained frozen around her phone, the echo of Ethan’s voice still ringing in her ears. You know what happens if he finds out. She swallowed hard. “Kryzelle,” Zander said again, closer now. “What secret?” She forced herself to breathe. Once. Twice. “I… I need to go home,” she said finally, her voice unsteady. “Please.” Zander didn’t push. He simply nodded, already reaching for his jacket. “I’m walking you.” “That’s not—” “Not optional,” he said gently, but firmly. The Makati streets felt unusually quiet that night. Kryzelle hugged her bag closer to her chest as they walked, the city lights blurring past her vision. Zander kept pace beside her, close enough to be reassuring, far enough not to overwhelm. “You don’t have to explain anything,” he said after a moment. “Not if you’re not ready.” She laughed weakly. “You make it sound so easy.” “Nothing about tonight was easy,” he

The streets of Makati were alive with neon and headlights, but Kryzelle felt like the city had disappeared. Her fingers clenched the strap of her bag as she walked, each step measured, each breath shallow. Zander walked beside her in silence. He didn’t need to say anything; his presence alone steadied her. “You know,” he finally said, voice low, “he’s been in your past for a reason.” She glanced at him, startled. “Why does it always sound like you know too much?” “I’ve been paying attention,” he replied simply. “To you.” Her stomach twisted. Stop thinking about that. She had rehearsed everything she would say to Ethan tonight, but now… she couldn’t even form a coherent thought. Zander’s gaze softened. “You’re scared.” “I am,” she admitted, quietly. “Good,” he said. “Because I’m angry.” She turned to him sharply. “Angry? At me?” “No,” he said firmly. “At him. At the fact that he thinks he still has control over you. And at myself for not being there sooner.” Kryzelle’s heart

The night felt heavier than before. Kryzelle stood by the window of her apartment, staring down at the glowing streets of Makati. Cars moved like scattered stars below, unaware of the storm about to unfold above them. Her reflection stared back at her in the glass—uncertain, exposed, and trembling beneath a calm she no longer trusted. Behind her, Zander leaned against the bed, his presence filling the room without effort. Silence stretched between them, thick but not uncomfortable—just loaded. “You’re shaking,” he said quietly. She hadn’t noticed until he crossed the room and stood behind her. His hands hovered at her waist, not touching, waiting for permission. “I don’t know how to stop,” she admitted. He rested his palms gently on her hips, grounding her. “Then don’t. Let me hold you through it.” She exhaled slowly and leaned back into his chest. His warmth seeped into her, steady and unyielding. The moment felt intimate in a way words couldn’t describe—two people standing at