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KABANATA 10
Last Updated:
2024-09-11 08:26:24
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To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 11
AFTER PAMELA LEFT, I STARTED BROWSING THE INTERNET AS IMMEDIATE AS I COULD.Sinusubukan kong makakuha ng impormasyon tungkol sa sinasabi ni Pam na nangyaring backlash sa mga Sy five years ago. Baka sa pamamagitan no'n, magawa kong mahanap si Ayi Hana. God knows how worried I am about her. Ano na kayang lagay niya, nasaan na kaya siya after everything that happened."Hi.”Upon hearing the voice, I immediately closed the laptop I was using. It was Jelai. She seemed surprise at what I did and on how I reacted. Tumingin pa siya sa laptop ko na puno ng pagdududa."I'm sorry, naabala yata kita. Pero… what's that? Parang ang seryoso mo naman masyado sa ginagawa mo,” nag-aalangang sabi niya. Naglakad siya palapit sa akin."It was… nothing. I'm just doing some research. About the trend. You know, I gotta keep my heads up to the innovation,” pagsisinungaling ko. I look passed her and saw a duffle bag placed on the floor. Sa parehong spot kung saan siya nakatayo kanina. "Anyways, what's with the
Last Updated : 2024-09-23To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 12
AFTER HAVING A WORD WITH THAT PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR, I FELT THE URGE TO LESSEN THE ANXIETY THAT I AM FEELING ALL OF A SUDDEN. SO, I WENT TO MY ART ROOM AND STARTED PAINTING SOME STUFF. THEN I SLEPT AND NOW, I WOKE UP NOT KNOWING WHAT THE TIME ALREADY IS.Natapik ko pa ang noo ko nang mapansin ko ang bahid ng mga pintura na kumapit na sa bedsheet, pillow case, at kumot ko."Damn. I swear, hindi ko na uulitin 'to. Ang matulog o kahit humiga lang sa kama right after I painted and not washing myself first? Never again,” anang isip ko.I was about to head on the bathroom to finally clean myself after hours of being dirty when suddenly, I remembered something. Naiwan ko pa nga pala na makalat 'yung art room ko kanina.Kaya naisipan ko na linisan muna 'yon bago ko linisan naman ang sarili ko. In my messy state, I got off my feet and started walking towards the art room.Handa na akong harapin ang sandamakmak na kalat na naiwan ko sa art room. But to my surprise, I walked into a clean, tidy ar
Last Updated : 2024-09-23To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 13
WITH THE ADDRESS COMING FROM INVESTIGATOR GOZON, MY FATE LED ME TO A TINY APARTMENT ONLY A FEW METERS AWAY FROM THE DUMP SITE.Lumang apartment na iyon—sobrang luma na hindi nga ako sigurado kung macla-classify pa ba as "apartment" ang lugar na iyon dahil sa itsura nito. Sobrang liit lang ng lugar na iyon kung titingnan mula sa loob. It was just like a small room. Gawa sa pinagtagpi-tagping yero at mga sako ang pader. 'Yung bubong naman ay yero rin pero kinakalawang at sira-sira na. Its doors are made of wood scraps. Pinagtagpi-tagpi lang din 'yon para maging pinto. And just like what I've said, ilang metro lang ang layo nito mula sa tapunan ng mga basura at kung anu-ano pang dumi. Marami ring kadikit na bahay ang lugar na tinitirahan daw ni Ayi Hana. But all those houses just looks the same. Maliit, pinagtagpi-tagpi, at… marumi.Sigurado ba talaga 'yung imbestigador na 'yon na dito nga nakakita si Ayi Hana?Never in my mind na naisip kong titira sa ganitong klaseng lugar si Ayi. At l
Last Updated : 2024-09-23To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 14
"HERE'S YOUR COLD GLASS OF ICED TEA. THIS SHOULD BE THE LAST OF YOUR ORDER. MAY I CONFIRM THAT YOU ALREADY GOT EVERY SINGLE ITEM YOU CHOSE FROM THE MENU?”Hindi na ako nag-abalang i-check pa isa-isa lahat ng pagkaing nakahain sa harapan namin ni Ayi. Tumango na lang ako. Umalis naman agad 'yung waiter and the soon as he went away, Aunt Melissa started talking."Grabe namang sobrang dami nito. Mauubos ba natin lahat 'to?” natatawang sabi niya."Uubusin natin, Ayi. We have so much to talk about. Baka nga kulangin pa 'to,” ganting saad ko.Sabay na lang kaming natawa pagkatapos no'n. Pero mayamaya lang din, naging seryoso na ang mukha niya."Before I tell you everything, pwede bang ikaw muna? I wanna know first what happened to you. Really. After that, I'll tell everything to you. No loopholes, pure truth,” aniya.Nag-isip ako sandali. Pero segundo lang at tumango na rin ako bilang pagsang-ayon sa gusto niyang mangyari.Sinimulan ko nang magkwento kasabay ng pagsisimula namin sa pagkain.
Last Updated : 2024-10-28To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 15
RIGHT AFTER AYI FINISHED TELLING ME STORIES, I IMMEDIATELY FELT A SURGE OF EMOTIONS COMING THROUGH ME.Naiinis ako, nagagalit, nagulat… nasaktan?"The day you said you left, I believe that was also the very day your father looked for you. Sa maniwala ka man o sa hindi, hinanap ka n'ya, Cali. He was so worried sick. He went through everywhere searching for you. He went through everything. I even remembered na ilang beses s'yang nabiktima ng mga scammers. Those person who claimed to see and know your whereabouts. Pero in the end, wala pala. They were all just after his money. Anyway, fast forward to your graduation day, nando'n s'ya. I don't know if you see him but he went there. Alam ko dahil sinundan ko s'ya. Hanggang ngayon, hindi ko pa rin maintindihan kung bakit hindi ka n'ya nilapitan at kinausap that very same day. I mean, he already spent a lot looking for you. He was nearly going crazy. Pero no'ng nasa harapan ka na n'ya, hindi man lang s'ya gumawa ng paraan to take you home. B
Last Updated : 2024-10-28To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 16
CALISTA'S P. O. VMy heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of my apartment.The grainy image on my phone screen—a feed from my portable CCTV—showed him. The intruder. He was tall, impossibly so, filling the frame of that tiny space in my massive home. Italian, I thought, or maybe Spanish. Dark hair, thick and slightly wavy, fell across a high forehead. His features were sharp, sculpted, the kind that graced the covers of fashion magazines. Drop-dead gorgeous wasn’t even close. He was breathtaking. And he was in my house.Pero paano s'ya posibleng nakapasok? He wasn’t rummaging through drawers or frantically searching for valuables. Hindi gaya ng mga tipikal na magnanakaw. He was… calm. Parang nagre-relax lang s'ya sa sarili n'yang bahay. But the thing is, this isn't his house. It's mine!He was running his fingers along the spines of my books, pausing occasionally to pick one up and examine the cover. He was dressed impeccably. Not just well-dressed, b
Last Updated : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 17
CALISTA'S P. O. VThe next day was a blur of nervous energy and stolen glances at my phone. Mula no'ng nakita ko 'yung itsura ng lalaking nag iikot sa bahay ko ay kumakain ng mga pagkain ko nang walang paalam, parang nag-crave na ako na makita s'ya buong araw. I spent most of my time glued to the CCTV feed, my eyes never leaving the screen. He was still there, moving around my apartment with the same unnerving calm he’d displayed the previous night. He was making himself at home, pouring himself a cup of coffee from my machine, humming a tuneless melody under his breath. Mukhang aware s'ya na wala ako sa bahay ngayon.My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, a constant, throbbing reminder of the bizarre situation I found myself in. He was a burglar, probably a criminal, an intruder—and yet, I couldn't tear my eyes away. It was like watching a captivating train wreck, a mesmerizing disaster unfolding in slow motion.He wandered through my apartment, pausing to examine my art
Last Updated : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 18
CALISTA'S P. O. VExhaustion clung to me like a second skin.Magho-host kasi ako ng runway para sa fashion week na darating. This is my first time doing it here in the Philippines. Kaya medyo hectic at stressful. After a brutal day at the office, all I wanted was to collapse onto my sofa and melt into oblivion. The last thing on my mind was the impossibly handsome burglar who was, technically, still residing in my apartment.I fumbled with my keys, kicking off my shoes with a sigh of relief. The dim light of the hallway cast long, dancing shadows, creating an eerie, almost theatrical ambiance. I hadn't bothered to turn on the main lights; the soft glow from the lamps was enough. Mas prefer ko naman kasi ang malamlam lang na liwanag.My stomach rumbled, a primal urge overriding my fatigue."Shocks, hindi pa nga pala ako nagla-lunch o kahit light snack man lang,” usal ko sa sariliI headed straight for the kitchen, my movements automatic, my mind still replaying the day's stressful event
Last Updated : 2024-11-27
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MARGARET'S P. O. VThe funeral was a grotesque parody of mourning. I stood, impeccably dressed, a picture of serene composure amidst the displays of feigned grief. Arnaldo’s death had been swift, efficient, a mere footnote in my relentless pursuit of power. His vast fortune, now mine, was merely a stepping stone, a foundation upon which I would build my empire.The days that followed were a whirlwind of legal maneuvering, financial transactions, and ruthless consolidation of power. I moved swiftly, decisively, silencing any opposition with a mixture of charm and intimidation. Those who questioned my actions, those who dared to challenge my authority, found themselves swiftly and unceremoniously removed from the equation. Their fate served as a warning to others, a chilling reminder of the consequences of defiance.My daughter, Monica, reveled in our newfound power, her ambition mirroring my own. She was a loyal pawn, a ruthless instrument in my ascent, her eyes gleaming with the same
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MARGARET'S P. O. VThe scent of lilies in my opulent bathroom did little to mask the stench of betrayal that clung to me. My reflection stared back, a stranger in a mask of composure. My new lover, Julian, was everything Arnaldo was not: young, vibrant, impossibly wealthy. Arnaldo, with his aging body and dwindling fortune, had become an anchor, a relic of a past I was eager to discard. He was nothing more than a means to an end, a stepping stone to a life of even greater luxury and power. And now, it was time for him to step aside.The plan was simple, yet elegant in its cruelty. A "car accident," staged with precision and discretion. It wouldn't be a blatant act of violence, nothing easily traceable back to me. Just a tragic mishap, a twist of fate. The perfect crime.Days bled into weeks, each moment a meticulous dance of preparation. I subtly shifted funds, creating a paper trail that pointed away from me, towards my old enemy, Niccolo Fibonacci, still languishing in prison. It wa
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MARGARET'S P. O. VThe years that followed were a blur of opulence and carefully calculated risk. Arnaldo’s wealth had become our playground, a source of endless luxury and power. But it wasn't enough. The thrill of the game, the adrenaline rush of manipulating others, had become addictive. I craved more, something beyond the confines of our carefully constructed world. That's where the Fibonacci Mafia came in.They were a powerful organization, their tentacles reaching into every corner of the city's underbelly. I'd initially approached them cautiously, offering my services as a financial advisor, a seemingly innocuous role that allowed me to infiltrate their inner circle. My charm, my intelligence, my ruthless ambition quickly won their trust. I learned their secrets, their weaknesses, their intricate network of operations. I became an indispensable part of their operations, privy to their most sensitive information.But my ambition knew no bounds. I wasn't content to be merely a pl
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MARGARET'S P. O. VThe wedding was a spectacle, a lavish affair that masked the cold calculation that had orchestrated it. Arnaldo, still bearing the scars of grief, looked like a man walking through a dream, his eyes holding a strange mixture of sorrow and something akin to… contentment. Contentment that I had carefully cultivated, nurtured, and manipulated. My own daughter, Monica, stood beside me, a picture of innocent obliviousness, unaware of the darkness that fueled our ascent.The mansion was opulent, even more so than I remembered. It was a gilded cage, a testament to Arnaldo's wealth, a prize I had finally claimed. I stood in the master bedroom, gazing out at the sprawling gardens, a triumphant smile playing on my lips. Isabella’s presence was completely erased, her belongings gone, her memory relegated to a distant, inconvenient past. This was my victory, my conquest, my reward for a meticulously planned campaign of manipulation and deceit.Arnaldo, now my husband, was a sha
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MARGARET'S P. O. VThe polished mahogany of Arnaldo Sy’s office felt different this time, heavier, draped in a somber veil of grief. The air hung thick with unspoken sorrow, a stark contrast to the usual crisp efficiency that permeated the space. Arnaldo sat behind his large desk, his shoulders slumped, his face etched with a weariness that went beyond simple fatigue. He looked older, broken, the vibrant energy that had once characterized him extinguished, replaced by a hollow emptiness.I approached him slowly, my movements deliberate, my expression carefully crafted to convey sympathy and concern. The news of Isabella’s death had been plastered across every news outlet, a spectacle of tragedy that I had orchestrated with cold precision. Now, I would play the role of the sympathetic friend, the comforting presence in his time of need. My heart, however, felt strangely devoid of emotion, a cold, calculating engine driving my actions.“Arnaldo,” I said softly, my voice laced with a car
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MARGARET'S P. O. VThe champagne was cold, the crystal flute elegant in my hand, but the celebratory mood felt hollow, a thin veneer over the churning anxiety within me. I sat alone in my opulent apartment, the city lights a blurred spectacle outside my window. The silence was deafening, a heavy blanket smothering the usual vibrant hum of the city. It was a silence pregnant with anticipation, a silence that screamed louder than any celebration.The news had been sparse, deliberately vague. A small chartered plane, en route to a remote region, had gone down. Details were scarce, the investigation ongoing. But I knew. I knew what had happened, what I had orchestrated. The weight of my actions pressed down on me, a crushing burden of guilt and exhilaration.My phone lay beside me, a cold, inert object. I longed for it to ring, to break the suffocating silence, to bring confirmation, to bring closure. But the silence persisted, stretching into an eternity of agonizing suspense. Each tick
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MARGARET'S P. O. VThe information arrived like a poisoned dart, precise and deadly. Isabella was scheduled to fly to a remote region in the north, leading a relief operation for victims of a recent typhoon. The details were scant, but enough to ignite the cold fire of my ambition. This was it, the opportunity I'd been waiting for, the perfect chance to finally take my plans to the next level. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat accompanying the chilling certainty that consumed me.I paced my opulent apartment, the city lights a glittering backdrop to my dark thoughts. The phone call had been brief, anonymous, a whisper in the night. But the information it contained was a detonator, setting off a chain reaction within me. This wasn't just about acquiring Arnaldo; it was about eliminating the obstacle, removing Isabella from the equation. The thought sent a shiver of exhilaration down my spine, mingling with a chilling sense of dread.The plan formed in my mind, swift
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MARGARET'S P. O. VThe week had been a blur of meticulously planned actions, each step designed to tighten the noose around Arnaldo Sy. My initial investment in SyCorp, while ultimately rejected by him personally, had still given me a small, yet strategically significant, stake in his company. It was a foothold, a tiny crack in his seemingly impenetrable world. Now, I was ready for the next phase.I returned to SyCorp’s headquarters, the familiar scent of polished wood and expensive coffee a constant reminder of my ambition. His secretary, a woman with eyes that missed nothing, greeted me with a polite, yet guarded smile."Mr. Sy isn't available at the moment, Ms. Holloway," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "However, he did leave this for you." She handed me a small, neatly folded piece of paper.It contained a single address: Willow Creek Park. My heart pounded a rapid tattoo against my ribs. He hadn't simply dismissed me; he'd lured me into a trap. A calculated, deliberate tra
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MARGARET'S P. O. VThe next day. The polished mahogany of Arnaldo Sy’s office felt cold beneath my fingertips. I sat across from him, the scent of expensive leather and old money clinging to the air, a stark contrast to the bitter taste of resentment that coated my tongue. He looked… different here, stripped of the casual charm he exuded at Calista’s birthday party. He was all sharp angles and controlled power, his dark eyes assessing me with a cool detachment that both intrigued and infuriated me.I’d come prepared, a meticulously crafted presentation outlining my investment proposal for SyCorp. It was a substantial offer, enough to significantly boost the company’s bottom line. It wasn't about the money, of course. It was about leverage, a strategic foothold in his world, a means to an end.“Mr. Sy,” I began, my voice smooth and controlled, a stark contrast to the tempest raging within me. “I believe SyCorp is on the verge of a significant breakthrough, and I’m eager to be a part o
