Chào các bạn! Vì nhiều lý do từ nay Truyen2U chính thức đổi tên là Truyen247.Pro. Mong các bạn tiếp tục ủng hộ truy cập tên miền mới này nhé! Mãi yêu... ♥

Prologue


Inaantok at pagod na pagod na ko pero pilit ko pa ring pinapapanatiling dilat ang aking mga mata habang nagmamaneho. Hindi ko gustong maaksidente at lalong hindi ko gustong makaaksidente. But dammit. I couldn't wait another day doing nothing. Isang linggo lang ang leave ko, hindi ko rin naman kasi akalain na hindi ko agad magagawa ang pakay ko. Bukod pa sa hindi rin ako puwedeng mawala ng matagal sa sobrang dami kong trabaho na kailangan tapusin.

The road stretched endlessly before me, muli akong napahikab. Mas maganda talaga na may kasama kapag ganitong medyo mahaba-habang byahe. My body ached from exhaustion, every muscle tight, every blink slower than the last. Matutulog talaga ako ng mahaba mamaya kahit pa hindi ko alam kung saan nga ako matutulog. Basta hindi dito. Hindi ngayon. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, taking a deep breath.

I had flown in on three different planes from Stockholm just to get here—Stockholm to Doha, then a layover in Singapore, and finally to Manila. Kaya pakiramdam ko talaga ay ubos na ubos ang lakas ko. Hindi ko rin alam kung saan pa ako kumuha ng energy, nang dumating ang rented car ko sa airport ay dumiretso akong agad para kitain si Harlow. Mas mahalaga ang sadya ko sa kaniya kaysa sa kahit na saglit na pahinga. I was running on fumes, but this was supposed to be the day that everything fell into place. The moment I finally took back what was rightfully mine.

But it didn't happen.

I stared at the highway ahead, the lines on the asphalt blurring together. Muli kong binabalikan ang naging pagkikita namin ni Harlow kanina at muli na naman akong nadidismaya. I had barely sat down in front of her when I realized it wasn't going to go the way I had hoped. Harlow had a tight, almost apologetic smile on her face as she explained that she couldn't sell me my family's ancestral home.

It wasn't in her power.

It wasn't even technically in their company's name.

Isa pa iyan sa ipakikipag-usap ko sa abogado ni Papa. Ang sabi niya sa akin ay ang RHR Constructions ang nakabili ng ancestral home namin sa Baler dahil isasali sa restoration projects nila. I did everything I could to earn the money I have now para lang mabili iyong pabalik sa pag-aakalang magiging madali lang dahil may koneksyon naman ako kay Harlow. After all, she's the "H" in RHR.

I'd flown across the world, spent hours in the air, my body stiff and aching from those cramped seats, all for her to tell me that. Hindi naman ako nagagalit sa kaniya dahil kahit pa siguro pinangunahan niya na ako sa tawag pa lang ay uuwi pa rin ako para kumbinsihin siya. O kung sino mang kailangan kong kausapin. My jaw clenched at the thought. All I wanted was to buy it back. That house—it wasn't just property. It was history. It was where my parents grew up, where my grandparents raised their children. It was my family's legacy. And now it was tangled in some bureaucratic mess, locked away by names and titles that didn't even matter to them. But it mattered to me. It mattered to my family.

Harlow had tried to be kind, but her words only deepened my frustration. "I'm sorry, Rhea. The house—it's not under the company's holdings. It's in a trust, and I don't have the authority to do anything about it."

I stared at her, my mind spinning. "Then who does have the authority, Harlow? Who do I need to talk to in order to buy it back? I don't care what it takes—I'm willing to pay whatever they ask."

Totoo iyon. Kung kukulangin ang pera ko ay gagawan ko ng paraan. Kung kinakailangan ko pang umutang kay Gilbert ay gagawin ko maibalik lang sa pamilya namin ang titulo ng property dahil iyon ang ipinangako ko kanila Mama at Papa na gagawin ko. I worked so hard for this kaya hindi puwedeng mabalewala lang.

"I don't think it's that simple. The property's been tied up for a while now." Dudang sagot ni Harlow. Medyo kinabahan ako doon pero hindi pa rin nawalan ng pag-asa. Sa panahon ngayon ay wala naman na sigurong hindi magagawa ang pera, 'di ba?

Maliban sa bumuhay ng patay.

"But there has to be someone," pamimilit ko sa kaniya. Bahala na kung makulitan siya sa akin pero nasisiguro ko naman na ganito rin ang gagawin niya sakaling siya ang nasa sitwasyon ko. "Someone who can sell it to me at a reasonable price. If not you, then who? Si Ridge ba? Can Ridge Santa de Leones help? He's the CEO, right?"

Harlow shook her head slowly, her expression almost apologetic. "No, not Ridge. He can't help either. There's only one person with the authority to sell that property now. The deeds were transferred to him a few months after RHR acquired it."

My heart sank as I felt the answer coming before she said it.

"Si Ricos. Siya ang panibagong owner ng property niyo, Rhei."

Ricos. Parang bigla kong naramdaman ang pagbagsak sa akin ng buong kalangitan, idinidiin naman akong husto sa lupa na aking kinasasadlakan. Of course. The other "R" in RHR. Pero bakit? Hindi ko maintindihan kung paanong involved siya sa construction company ng mga ito. Eh, unlike Harlow and Ridge ay hindi naman siya architect o engineer.

"Isn't he a neurosurgeon? What's he doing with RHR Constructions?" Mas iritado kaysa dismayado kong tanong kay Harlow. Paano'y ngayon pa lang ay ramdam ko na agad ang labis kong kamalasan.

Harlow exhaled and gave a slight shrug. "It's complicated. He got involved in the company after the acquisition, mostly because of family business. He's been managing some of the real estate assets, and well... the house is one of them."

I glanced down, my hands now gripping the wheel as I thought of Ricos, memories flooding my mind despite how hard I tried to push them away. Of all people...

I sighed, swallowing hard as I stared at the road ahead. The thought of seeing Ricos again stirred something I didn't want to acknowledge. Ilang taon na nga ba ang lumipas mula nang huli kaming nagkita at nagkausap? Masyado nang matagal. It wasn't a clean break, but it was a necessary one.

But what choice do I have? Siya lang ang makakapagbenta sa akin pabalik ng property namin. Kaya kahit wala naman sa plano kong makita at makausap siya, ito at nilalabanan ko ang lahat ng pagod na nararamdaman ko para mapuntahan siya.

Alam kong malabo na pumayag si Ricos sa gusto kong mangyari. Mas napatunayan ko pa iyon sa reaksyon ni Harlow kanina nang tanungin ko ang opiniyon niya. Kung sa tingin niya ba ay papayag nga ang pinsan niya na ipagbili sa akin ang ancestral home ng aming pamilya.

"I don't know, Rhea. It's hard to say. You'll have to talk to him yourself. He's the only one who can decide that now." Puno ng pag-aalinlangan niyang sabi bago iyon dugtungan ng bahaw na. "But Ricos had always been reasonable. Siguro naman ay papayag iyon kung kakausapin mo lang ng maayos."

The tension in my chest only tightened. I wasn't ready to deal with him again. Not after everything that happened between us. But if this was the only way to get my family's home back, I'd have to face him, no matter how difficult it might be.

Nagulat pa ako nang sabihin niyang nasa Baler ito. Kasi ano naman ang gagawin niya sa Baler? But Harlow said he was in one of his remote drives, kung saan tumutulong ito at ang team na dala na mag-provide ng disente at libreng healthcare sa mga pamilya na hindi madalas naabot ng mga ganoong klase ng tulong.

I cursed inwardly, gripping the wheel tighter as the familiar ache crept into my chest. That's what he did now, apparently. Help people. Gusto kong magalit sa kaniya. Gusto kong makaramdam ng galit. Kasi kailangan. Because that was the only way I could keep everything from resurfacing. All the memories, all the pain I tried so hard to bury. Kailangan kong may maramdaman para sa kaniya at galit iyon. If I could make him the villain in my story, maybe it would be easier to deal with the mess I had made. Kahit pa alam ko naman ang totoo. Ricos didn't do anything wrong. He never hurt me. If anything, I hurt him.

I was the albatross around his neck, weighing him down with my indecision, my fear. I was the one who walked away, who left him behind. And he let me go without ever asking why, without demanding answers. That was the worst part. He never fought me on it, never held me back. He just let me go, even though I knew it broke him. I fucked him up. I fucked him up good.

Tapos ngayon ano? Nasa Baler siya gumagawa ng kabutihan na lalong magpapabagal sa galit ko... Kung meron nga ba talaga ako noon para sa kaniya. Ricos was still doing something I knew he believed in. Something that came from that deep, quiet place in his heart where he kept all his best parts hidden. The parts of him I could never reach, even when we were together.

And it wasn't helping that I knew he was genuine in his work. The drives weren't for show, weren't for some shallow sense of validation. No, Ricos cared. Even if he didn't need to, even if he didn't intend to, there was always a part of his heart that was softer than the rest. That part of him always drew people in, always made them believe in him.

Paano ako magagalit sa kaniya kung mabait siya, 'di ba?

Mabuting tao kasi talaga si Ricos. Sobrang buting tao.

I knew that about him. It was what had made falling for him so easy. And it was what made walking away so hard.

I couldn't hate him, no matter how much I wanted to. No matter how much I needed to. Every time I thought of him, all I could see was the man I left behind—the man who didn't deserve any of it. Lahat ng guilt na naramdaman ko nang gabing iyon ay bumuhos at agad na nanumbalik sa akin. I had my reasons. Maaaring hindi man sapat ang mga iyon para masaktan ko siya ng husto ay hindi ko rin naman ginusto... Hindi ko rin naman sinadya.

He didn't deserve to be the villain in my story, because he wasn't. If anyone was the villain, it was me. I had wrecked something good, something pure. Tapos ngayon ay makikita ko siyang muli. Makalipas ang napakaraming taon ay makikita ko siyang muli.

I was about to bring all of this back into the light, and I didn't know how to handle it.

Dammit, Ricos. I swallowed hard, feeling that familiar pang of regret tighten around my chest. This wasn't going to be easy, and part of me wondered if I even deserved it to be.

Halos pagabi na nang iparada ko ang aking sasakyan sa driveway ng ancestral home. Gumawa iyon ng bahagyang ingay kaya nasisiguro ko na kung may tao man sa loob ay naulanigan na ang pagdating ko. I killed the engine and sat there for a moment, lalo kong naramdaman ang labis na pagod. The flight, the drive, the mental and emotional weight—it all seemed to catch up to me at once. Bigla ko tuloy pinagdudahan ang desisyon ko na tumulak nang agad dito. Baka siguro mas ayos kung nagpalipas na lang muna ako ng gabi sa hotel at bukas na lang ng umaga bumyahe.

But it was too late now. Narito na ako, eh.

I glanced at my bags in the back seat, hindi naman marami ang dala ko pero hindi ko rin alam kung dapat ko bang ibaba ang mga ito. Hm. Wala naman akong balak na dito matulog. Pero shit! I couldn't drive anymore. I felt so tired just by thinking about it.

In the end, I grabbed my Valentino purse and stepped out of the car. Malamig ang simoy ng hangin dito sa probinsya kaysa kanin sa Manila. Dapat pala ay hindi ko na lang inalis ang cardigan ko kanina sa sasakyan. I walked toward the large double doors, the ones I had passed through so many times growing up. Grabe. Ang tagal ko nang hindi nakapunta dito. The house loomed ahead, familiar yet distant, like a memory brought to life. Mapait akong napangiti nang may maalala. Aabutin ko pa lang sana ang pinto para kumatok nang bumukas iyon at sumungaw si Nanay Teresita. Nagulat pa ako nang makita ko siya. I didn't expect him to retain the people who worked for our family. Ang inaasahan ko ay ibang mukha, mga bago dahil hindi naman na ito pag-aari ng pamilya namin.

"Nanay," mahina kong sabi. Bahagya akong napako sa aking kinatatayuan nang pagmasdan niya ako. Hindi ko sigurado kung dapat ba akong gumalaw... lumapit sa kaniya. She had worked for my family for decades, practically raising me alongside my parents. Maging siya man ay nanlaki ang mga mata nang mapagsino ako.

"Rhea? Rhea, anak ikaw nga ba?"

Mas lumapit pa siya sa akin. Me, I just stood there, watching.

"Rhea!" she exclaimed, blinking as if she couldn't quite believe it. Then, before I could react, she pulled me into a tight hug, her warmth a comfort I hadn't realized I needed. "Bakit wala man lang nagsabi sa akin na darating ka? Bakit hindi ka tumawag? Kasama mo ba ang mga magulang mo?"

Lumingon pa si Nanay sa aking likuran para tiyakin kung may mga kasama ba ako.

"No, Nanay. I came alone." I swallowed hard, my voice quieter than I intended.

I was alone. For a very long time, I'd been alone. She didn't know, of course. Almost no one did. It wasn't something I liked to talk about—how my parents had passed away five years ago, how they'd left me to navigate the world without them. There were only a handful of people who even knew the full story. At wala sa mga iyon ang nasa Pilipinas ngayon.

Naramdaman kong naghihintay pa si Nanay ng idudugtong ko sa sagot kong iyon, marahil ay gusto niya rin hanapin ang mga ito, ayaw ko nang pag-usapan kaya isinaad ko nang agad ang pakay ng pagparito ko.

"Actually, I was looking for Ricos. Narito po ba siya?"

Nanay Teresita brightened at the mention of his name, nodding quickly. "Oo, nasa taas si Doc. Kadarating lang galing sa clinic. Marahil ay naghahanda rin para sa hapunan. Maya-maya lang ay baba rin iyon."

So... talagang dito nga siya sa bahay namin tumutuloy, ah?

Well, bahay niya na nga pala ito ngayon.

"Buti nga ngayon at medyo maaga siyang umuwi. Kadalasan ay gabi na ang uwi nu'n, eh. Abalang-abala kasi ang batang iyon. Hindi natitigil sa trabaho. Kung saan-saan nakakarating, para bang lahat ng may sakit dito sa Baler ay gustong tulungan at gamutin."

I nodded, my stomach twisting at the thought of seeing him again. Hindi rin nakakatulong na parang binibidang husto ni Nanay Teresita si Ricos sa akin. She knew he was my ex-boyfriend dahil minsan ko nang dinala dito si Ricos noon. Noong maayos pa ang lahat sa amin. Noong kaya ko pang paniwalaan na kami nga talaga.

Nanay Teresita gave me a knowing smile, unaware of the storm brewing inside me. "Puntahan mo na lang sa taas, hija. Ang master bedroom ang ginagamit niya tuwing narito siya dahil iyon lang naman ang may toilet. Hindi pa natatapos palagyan ang ilang silid sa itaas."

The idea of going upstairs, of confronting him so soon, made my pulse quicken. I shook my head quickly, offering a tight smile. "I'd rather wait for him down here, Nanay."

"Sigurado ka? Ayos lang naman siguro iyon kay Ricos kung aakyat ka na lang doon sa silid niya. Kaysa maghintay ka rito na parang ibang tao."

Gusto ko sanang sabihin kay Nanay na ibang tao naman na talaga ako. Ano bang akala niya? Kami pa rin ni Ricos? Paano naman niya naisip iyon? Ni wala naman akong paramdam sa mga taga rito. Ni minsan sa loob ng maraming taon ay hindi ako tumawag.

I forced a chuckle. "Hindi na po. Ayos lang. Hihintayin ko na lang siya dito."

Nanay Teresita blinked but didn't pry. Instead, she shifted the conversation, her motherly instincts kicking in. "Eh, kumain ka na ba? Mukhang pagod ka galing sa mahabang byahe. Sa Manila ka ba galing?"

"Opo. At ayos lang po ako, Nay. Hindi po ako nagugutom." It was true—I never ate dinner. The habit has stuck with me, even after all these years. Not that I could explain that to her.

She frowned, disapproving but not surprised. "Kumain ka pa rin, Rhea. Sumabay ka kay Ricos mamaya. Ang payat mo pa ring bata ka!"

Nginitian ko na lang ang sinabing iyon ni Nanay. Kahit naman kailan ay hindi nadadagdagan ang timbang ko. I didn't know if I could call it a curse or a blessing.

Nanay Teresita sighed but didn't push further. Instead, she gestured to the living room. "Eh, dito ka na lang sa sala maghintay kung ganoon. Mamaya lang ay bababa na rin naman iyon si Ricos."

Binalingan ko ang sala na iminuwestra nito at bahagya pang nabigla nang makita na halos wala naman iyong pagbabago. Sa totoo lang ng buong kabahayan ay ganoon. The old wooden furniture was still in its usual spots, the same rugs still spread across the floor, even the paintings on the walls were untouched. I blinked, taking it all in.

Sandali akong hindi makapagsalita.

Nothing had changed.

Or, more accurately, everything had changed so subtly that it was almost invisible to the untrained eye. But I knew better. I could see it—the tiny details. The wood on some of the beams was newer, sturdier, but it was the exact same type of wood my grandparents had used when they built the house. Ang mga kasangkapan ay ganoon rin. Though they were slightly refreshed, had been replaced with identical pieces, down to the carving patterns. Even the paint on the walls was the same muted hue, only touched up to keep its original luster.

Walang binago si Ricos.

He didn't renovate the house. He restored it.

It struck me how much care he must have put into it. To bring back the home exactly as it was, with every detail respected and preserved. Hindi ko alam kung dapat ko bang ikatuwa iyon o mas ikabahala. Of course, Ricos would do this. He never did things halfway, especially not when it came to things that mattered. Palagi siyang maingat. Palagi siyang may pakialam.

Nanay Teresita watched me as I took it all in, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Ayaw niyang may baguhin sa detalye ng buong kabahayan. Maraming ipinagawa dahil marami na rin ang naging sira simula nang maabandona ito ng pamilya niyo. Ipinaayos iyong lahat ni Ricos pero mariin ang utos niyang walang babaguhin sa ayos ng bahay."

I nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat. "It's beautiful,"

She gave me a warm smile, her eyes soft with affection. "Ramdam kong itinuturing niya rin na tahanan niya itong bahay na ito, Rhea."

Dapat naman dahil binili niya naman talaga ito. Sa kaniya ito. Tahanan niya. Sana lang ay ipagbili niyang pabalik sa akin, because I knew this place was supposed to be mine. It slipped. But I'm here to reclaim it.

I forced a smile, nodding again as I tried to process the mix of emotions swirling inside me. Ricos had always cared about things in ways that most people didn't. That was one of the things I loved about him. And now, seeing this house—our family's home—so lovingly preserved, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He had taken care of something so precious to me. Kahit pa iniwan ko siya.

"I think... I'd rather wait in the library, Nanay," I said quietly, feeling the need for some distance, some space to breathe. "Kung ayos lang ho... Doon ko na lang hihintayin si Ricos."

"Syempre naman! Puwedeng doon ka na maghintay. Sasabihan ko na lang siya na doon ka puntahan." Nakangiti pa rin si Nanay na para bang ang saya-saya niyang makita ako. "Pumunta ka na roon. Wala rin pinagbago iyon tulad ng buong kabahayan."

I nodded my thanks, glancing once more at the living room before turning toward the stairs. As I ascended, I couldn't help but feel the weight of everything—the memories, the years, and the choices I had made—settling on my shoulders. Hirap na hirap tuloy akong umakyat dahil parang ang bigat bigat ng loob ko.

I needed a moment to collect myself, to figure out what I would say to Ricos later.

Katulad nga ng sinabi ni Nanay ay ganoon pa rin ang ayos ng library. The familiar scent of aged books and polished wood greeted me as I stepped inside, immediately grounding me in the past. Napangiti ako. Tuwing bumibisita kami dito sa Baler ay palagi akong nagkukulong dito sa library para magbasa. The heavy wooden shelves, the old leather chairs, the large oak desk—everything was just as it had been when I was younger.

But there was one thing that was different.

Ang mga kuwadradong nakasabit sa bawat paligid ng silid. There hadn't been any paintings here before. It was strange seeing them now, the vibrant colors stark against the muted earth tones of the room. As I looked closer, my breath hitched. I knew immediately whose work this was.

Ricos.

I smiled bitterly, recognizing his touch in every stroke. Ni hindi ko na kinailangan pang makita ang pirma niya sa mga iyon para matukoy na siya nga ang gumuhit. Alam ko. I had spent enough time with him to understand his artistry, to appreciate the way his hand moved across a canvas. Ricos was a fucking genius. He wasn't just a neurosurgeon. He was an artist, too. And a damn good one at that. His technique reminded me of Amorsolo—the same mastery of light and shadow, the same deep emotion woven into every scene. But where Amorsolo painted life and beauty, Ricos painted something else.

Pain.

I walked closer to the paintings, my eyes tracing the brutal, raw imagery they held. There was too much hurt in them. Too much suffering. One showed a man standing alone on a cliff, his face hidden in shadows, while the sea churned violently beneath him. Another depicted a desolate landscape, barren and cold, with nothing but a single tree in the distance, its branches twisted and bare, like fingers reaching out in desperation.

And then my eyes fell on the last painting. It stopped me in my tracks.

It was a wreckage. Broken pieces of wood and metal scattered across a dark, stormy sky, with debris falling into the sea below. Amidst the chaos, there was an albatross. Its wings were spread wide, but they were stained with blood. The bird was caught mid-flight as if trying to escape the destruction, but its wings were tattered, the feathers ragged and torn. There was no escape for it, even though it flew desperately, wildly. The pain in its eyes was unmistakable.

I stared at the painting, unable to look away. It was... haunting. The wreckage, the albatross—it all felt too familiar. Too personal.

It wasn't hard to see what this painting represented. The albatross was me. I had been the one who had brought destruction into his life, the one who had wrecked what we had, and now, I was flying away—bloody, broken, but still fleeing.

My chest tightened, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. The truth was inescapable. Ricos hadn't just painted these scenes from his imagination. He had painted his own pain. The pain I had caused him.

I reached out to touch the frame of the painting, my fingers trembling.

"God, Ricos..." I whispered to the empty room. "What did I do to you?"

The weight of my guilt was suffocating. I had known, deep down, that I had hurt him. But seeing it like this—laid bare in the form of art, in every agonized brushstroke—made it impossible to ignore.

I didn't hear the footsteps behind me until it was too late.

"You recognize it, don't you?"

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. Slowly, I turned around, my gaze meeting his.

His eyes were dark, empty, void of anything remotely warm. His face was expressionless, a cold mask that seemed to shut out any recognition of the past between us. He stood there, framed in the doorway, his presence filling the room. I took in the sight of him, dressed casually in sweatpants and a matching shirt. Wala pa akong sinasabi ay mukha na siyang galit.

So much had changed about him. He looked rougher now, harder. Tumanda rin, syempre. Gone was the charming, easygoing boyfriend I once knew. This Ricos looked dangerous, like someone who had built walls around himself so high that no one could scale them.

Humugot ako ng isang malalim na paghinga, maging ang kapit ko sa strap ng aking bag ay humigpit rin sa labis na pagpipilit kong ayusin ang aking sarili sa harapan niya. My heart hammered in my chest, but I wasn't going to let him see that. He walked in, his footsteps deliberate, purposeful. He didn't smile, didn't soften. He was a far cry from the man I once loved.

Mabuti na rin siguro iyon dahil magkumahog akong pabalik sa kaniya kung ang sasalubong sa akin ay ang Ricos pa rin na iniwan ko noon. It wouldn't be good for neither of us.

He didn't waste time on pleasantries, agad nang nagtanong. "What do you want?"

The coldness in his voice stung. Pero binalewala ko iyon. Ayos na rin ang ganito. At least, I was reminded of the line that had to be drawn between us.

"I... I came to talk to you about the house. Hindi ko alam kung nasabi na ba sa'yo ni Harlow pero nagkita kami kanina. Siya ang nagsabi sa akin na ikaw ang dapat kong kausapin tungkol sa sadya ko, at na narito ka." I managed, my voice steadier than I expected. "I want to buy it back."

Ricos didn't even blink. His eyes flicked over me, assessing, but his expression remained unreadable. Then, without hesitation, he said, "It's not for sale."

I blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. "What?"

"I said it's not for sale," he repeated, his tone ruthless, final.

His words hit me like a slap, and suddenly all the exhaustion from the long flight, the drive, and the emotional turmoil flared into irritation. I had come all this way, pushed myself to the brink of exhaustion, and now he was shutting me down without even a second thought.

Inaasahan ko naman nang hindi magiging madali ang pakikipag-usap kong ito kay Ricos. But I never thought he would be this brutal. Ni hindi man lang pinag-isipan. O kahit kaunting pagpapakaplastik man lang na hihingi siya ng ilang oras o araw para pag desisyunan. He had already decided, at hindi iyon umaayon sa gusto kong mangyari.

"No way," I said, shaking my head as disbelief gave way to frustration. "You can't just say that. I'm willing to pay—whatever you want, just name the price."

Ricos' eyes darkened further, a shadow passing over his features. He stepped closer, his presence imposing. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't about money. The house is not for sale."

Agad na umahon ang galit sa aking dibdib. "But it's my family's home! I have every right to buy it back—"

"You had your chance to keep it," he cut me off, his voice cold as ice. "Now it's mine. Sa akin ito. Iniwan mo na, 'di ba?"

I stared at him, my frustration bubbling over. "Why? Why would you even want it? You don't care about this place, Ricos. It means nothing to you—"

"It means something to me now," he snapped. Mababa ang kaniyang tinig kaya mas nakakatakot iyon. Mas nakakakilabot. "You don't get to walk in here after all these years and make demands. Wala kang karapatan."

I opened my mouth to respond, but his words silenced me. There was a bitterness in his tone that cut deeper than I expected. This wasn't just about the house. There was more here, years of unresolved anger and hurt simmering just beneath the surface.

I clenched my fists, trying to steady myself. "So that's it, then? You're just going to keep it out of spite?"

His eyes locked onto mine, and for the briefest moment, I thought I saw something flicker there—something raw and painful. But just as quickly, it was gone.

"Anong pinagsasabi mo?" Ricos' voice was low, sharp, but it was the smirk that followed that hit me the hardest.

It was ruthless, almost mocking.

"You think this is about you?" he said, his tone dripping with cold amusement. "It's not. I like the house, Rhea. That's what I care about."

"You like the house?" I repeated, incredulous. "Bakit? Eh, hindi naman sa'yo 'to. This is our ancestral—"

"Was your ancestral home," mariin niyang putol sa sinasabi ko. "It's mine now. Bawat sulok ng bahay na ito ay sa akin. Lahat ng narito, sa akin rin. Kaya ako ang magpapasya kung may ipagbibili ako. And no, I'm not selling it. You're going to have to get over yourself."

I swallowed, trying to process his words. Sobrang napapagod na ako tapos ganito pang klase na Ricos ang kaharap ko ngayon. Parang gusto ko na lang mahimatay at huwag nang gumising. Gusto kong magpahinga but at the same time, gusto ko rin siyang labanan.

"Don't you understand? This house—this place—it's all I have left of my family. It means something to me."

"And what?" His eyes flashed, patuloy siyang lumapit hanggang sa nasa harapan ko na siya. "You think I should just hand it over because it's sentimental to you? Because you showed up after years of disappearing and expect me to bend over backward for you? Ganoon ba? Ang laki pa rin pala ng tiwala mo sa sarili mo."

I flinched at his words, but the anger inside me flared even higher. "I'm not asking for favors, Ricos! I'm willing to pay whatever it takes. Just name your price."

"I don't need your money. Marami ako niyan." Walang-puso niyang sabi, hindi pa rin inaalis ang mga mata sa akin.

I clenched my jaw. If it wasn't for the house, if it wasn't for what it meant to me, I would've turned on my heel and left the moment he said no. He wasn't worth the effort, not anymore. But I couldn't just walk away—not when this house was all I had left of my family's legacy.

I tilted my chin up, refusing to back down. "Then what do you want, Ricos? If not money, what's it going to take to get the house back?"

He smirked, his lips curling into something wicked.

"I don't need anything from you," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "There's nothing you have that I want."

Alam ko naman iyon. Pilit akong hindi nagpaapekto kahit pa matalim ang pagkakasabi niya. Ano ba kasing gusto niya? Ginagantihan niya ba ako? Ganoon ba? He wanted to get even, huh?

"Kung wala ka naman palang gustong makuha sa'kin... Then why not just let me buy it back if it means nothing to you?"

His eyes gleamed with something darker, something cruel. Mas nagmukha siyang mapanganib. Pilit ko pa ring hinahanap ang Ricos na kilala ko sa Ricos na kaharap ko ngayon, but I was having a hard time doing it.

"I never said it meant nothing. I like the house, remember? And I like the fact that you want it so badly." He paused, his voice dropping into something almost predatory. "But if you want it, Rhea... then stay."

I frowned, unsure of what he was getting at. "Stay?"

"Yes," he said, his smirk widening. "Stay here and try to convince me. Use those talents you're so good at."

"What talents?" Bigla akong nalito sa ibig niyang sabihin.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "You know what I'm talking about. You've always been good at getting what you want, Rhea. You've charmed your way through everything. So, stay. Convince me to sell you the house."

The insinuation in his voice was impossible to miss, and it made my skin crawl. I stared at him, anger and disbelief flooding through me. Bago pa ako makapagsalita ay inunahan niya na akong muli.

"I'm not making it that easy for you. Gusto mo ito? Ipakita mo sa akin kung gaano mo nga kagusto."

I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to scream at him, to tell him exactly what I thought of his little game. But I knew better. I needed this house. I needed him to sell it to me. And if that meant playing along with his twisted challenge, then I would. For now.

"Fine," I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "I'll stay."

His smirk faded into something more serious, his gaze locking onto mine. "Good. Let's see if you're still as persuasive as you used to be."

I held his gaze, refusing to show any weakness. This was going to be harder than I'd imagined, but if that was the price to get my family's home back, then so be it.

"I'm not leaving until you sell me this house, Ricos,"

"The more I'm not gonna sell..."


The digital (40-chapter) version of The Albatross is now available for purchase. Secure your copy by messaging us on Facebook.

Connect with us:

🌐 Facebook Profile: Moana DeSalvo | www.facebook.com/frxppauchino

📘 Facebook Page: Frappauchino | www.facebook.com/frapwpstories

👥 Facebook Group: Frappauchino WP Stories

📧 Email: [email protected]

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen247.Pro