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KABANATA 20
Huling Na-update:
2024-11-27 14:41:34
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To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 21
CALISTA'S P. O. VIlang buwan na rin mula nang magsama kami ni Lewis. And from now, masasabi ko na hindi na lang basta pagkakaibigan ang namamagitan sa amin. It's weirder, yes. But I like this more. One lazy Sunday morning, we were making breakfast together. Lewis was humming a tuneless melody as he flipped pancakes, his movements fluid and graceful."You know," I said, leaning against the counter, watching him, "this is…nice."He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It is, isn't it?""I never thought I'd find myself living with a burglar," I added, laughing softly."And I never thought I'd be living with someone who makes such amazing pancakes," he retorted, flipping another one perfectly."They're not that amazing," I demurred, though a smile played on my lips. "Pancakes lang 'yan. Walang wala sa mga niluluto mo.”"They are amazing," he insisted, placing a perfectly browned pancake onto my plate. "Especially when shared with someone I enjoy spending time with."His gaze linge
Huling Na-update : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 22
CALISTA'S P. O. VThe morning after was… different. The air between Lewis and me was charged, thick with a new kind of intimacy, a new kind of understanding. The unspoken words of the previous night hung in the air, a silent testament to the depth of our feelings, the intensity of our connection. We were no longer just sharing a space; we were sharing a life, a future, a love that had blossomed from the most unlikely of beginnings.There were no grand pronouncements, no dramatic declarations. It wasn't a sudden, explosive realization; it was a slow, organic evolution, a gradual unfolding of emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks. It was a quiet understanding, a shared acknowledgment of the undeniable truth that had been simmering between us.We made breakfast together, our movements synchronized, our conversation easy and effortless. There was a comfortable silence between us, a comfortable intimacy that spoke volumes about the depth of our connection. We talke
Huling Na-update : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 23
LEWIS'S P. O. VThe aroma of roasted chicken and garlic filled the kitchen, a testament to my culinary efforts.I’d spent the afternoon preparing a special dinner for Cali, a romantic gesture designed to solidify our relationship, to express the depth of my feelings. I’d even lit candles, set the table, put on some soft music. It was going to be perfect. Until it wasn't.Cali was late. Unusually late. I paced nervously, checking my phone every few minutes, my anxiety growing with each passing second. Then, I heard the sound of the key turning in the lock.I smiled. I immediately run towards the door. To open it for Cali."I'm glad, you're home. I already cooked our meal—f*ck.” It wasn't Cali.It was Calvin.He stood in the doorway, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. He looked around the apartment, his eyes lingering on the meticulously set table, the flickering candlelight, the soft music playing in the background. Then, his gaze fell upon me.My heart pounded in my chest, a frant
Huling Na-update : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 24
CALVIN'S P. O. VThat smug smirk. The way he’d so easily dismissed me, so confidently declared himself Calista’s boyfriend.It infuriated me. It fueled a fire in my gut, a burning resentment that wouldn’t be extinguished. He might have won this round, but the game was far from over. I wouldn’t let him have her. Not without a fight.I spent the next few days consumed by a relentless pursuit. Aaminin ko, isa sa mga dahilan ko ay selos at kagustuhan na mabawi si Cali. But another part of it is to ensure her safety. I used every resource at my disposal, every connection I’d made during my years on the force. My initial inquiries yielded little. The name “Lewis Rossi” didn’t turn up anything concrete. No criminal record, no outstanding warrants, no significant digital footprint. It was as if he’d simply materialized out of thin air.But I wasn't easily deterred. I had a picture of him, a clear, sharp image captured from a security camera outside Calista’s apartment. It wasn't much, but it w
Huling Na-update : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 25
CALVIN'S P. O. VI found Calista at her favorite café, a small, unassuming place tucked away on a quiet side street. She looked up as I approached, her eyes widening in surprise. She hadn't expected to see me, not after our last encounter. The tension in the air was obvious, a silent acknowledgment of the unresolved issues between us.I sat down opposite her, placing a thick file on the table. She looked at it, her brow furrowed in question. I didn't waste time with pleasantries. I laid it all out, dropping the bombshell without any warning."Calista," I began, my voice low and serious, "I need to tell you something. Something about Lewis."She looked at me, her eyes searching mine, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity in her gaze."What about him? Kung sisiraan mo lang s'ya sa akin, don't bother. Us, is over for so long. Kaya—”I opened the file, revealing the photographs, the documents, the digital records I showed her the blurry image from the bar, the one that had led me to Lew
Huling Na-update : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 26
CALISTA'S P. O. VThe anger hit me first, a tidal wave of rage that threatened to consume me.Pinaalis ko si Lewis—o si Niccolo nang hindi nag iisip ng mahinahon. I know, it was the right thing to do. Pero ngayon na unti-unti na akong nahihimasmasan, unti-unti ko na ring nararamdaman 'yung kawalan n'ya. Because yes, he fooled me. Niloko n'ya ako. And I felt like the dumbest creature on earth. The dumbest, most gullible, most pathetically naive woman in the world. But I liked him—no, I loved him.I spent hours pacing my apartment, the anger a burning fire in my gut, a consuming rage that threatened to consume me. I threw things, I screamed, I cursed. I smashed a few plates, much to the chagrin of my poor, unsuspecting neighbors. It was a cathartic release, a necessary purging of the rage that threatened to overwhelm me. Pero sa kabila ng lahat ng 'yon, parang wala pa rin. It didn't change the fact that I was fooled. Sa halip na mabawasan 'yung galit na nararamdaman ko, wala. Lumalala la
Huling Na-update : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 27
CALISTA'S P. O. VI spent hours of crying before my eyes finally drifted off to sleep. Pero nasira lang ang tulog na 'yon dahul sa malalakas na pagkatok—o pagkalabog sa pinto ng bahay ko. It was insistent, aggressive, shattering the quiet solitude I’d desperately sought. I braced myself, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I knew, instinctively, who it was. Niccolo.Nakakainis mang isipin, pero ayoko namang hindi aminin na kahit niloko ako n'ya ako, umaasa pa rin ako na babalik s'ya. Magpapaliwanag s'ya.But when I opened the door, I felt nothing but disappointment. Imbis kasi na si Niccolo, si Calvin ang nabungaran ko pagbukas ng pinto. He's standing on my doorstep, flanked by two uniformed policemen. His face was grim, his eyes hard. He didn't bother to greet; he didn't bother with apologies. He barged into my apartment, the officers trailing behind him.“Niccolo Fibonacci,” he said, his voice sharp, his gaze unwavering. “We have a warrant for his arrest.”Nagulat ak
Huling Na-update : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 28
CALISTA'S P. O. VWala akong kakurap-kurap habang nakatitig sa isang article na nakita ko online. Tungkol 'yon sa mga Fibonacci; at sa pamilyang naging dahilan ng pagkakahuli ng mga ito—ang mga Sy. And yes, that Sy doesn't differ from the Sy I came from. And that Sy consists of my dad, Margaret, and Monica. Base sa mga nabasa at napanood ko, maraming nangyari kanila Daddy na nag-connect sa mga Fibonacci. Gano'n din ang mga nangyari sa mga Fibonacci na may kinalaman naman sa pamilya ko. Or should I say, dati kong pamilya. Tinakwil na nga pala nila ako.I just couldn't believe na hindi ko nabalitaan ang tungkol dito. Mukha namang nag-viral at naging talk of the town ang balita na 'to years ago. Kung nakarating lang sana agad sa akin 'tong balita na 'to, baka naprotektahan ko ang sarili ko kay Niccolo. Not from the harm he might cause me, but from the pain that I am suffering right now.As I was staring at a particular article, an idea sparked on my mind. Niccolo played with me. He foole
Huling Na-update : 2024-11-27
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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
To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss SPECIAL CHAPTER 5
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
To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss SPECIAL CHAPTER 3
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
