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KABANATA 38
Last Updated:
2024-11-27 14:47:38
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To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 39
CALISTA'S P. O. VIt was past seven in the evening when I decided to go home.Ako na ang pinakahuling naiwan sa building. Maliban sa mga guard, of course. Sinadya ko talagang magpaiwan para makapag research ako ng tungkol sa kumpanya. I came through every files, checked every unit in this building. Marami akong napuna at balak kong gawan 'yon ng agenda para sa susunod na company meeting.Carrying the files I have obtained, I went home. The drive home was tense, the city lights blurring into streaks of color as I navigated the familiar streets. But something felt different tonight. Something was off. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, a prickling sensation that sent a shiver down my spine.Inisip ko na rin na baka pagod lang ako kaya napa-paranoid ako ngayon.But everything started subtly, a fleeting glimpse of a dark sedan in my rearview mirror. I dismissed it at first, attributing it to coincidence, to the usual city traffic. But then, another car appeared, identical to the fir
Last Updated : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 40
CALISTA'S P. O. VKinabukasan.Nanginginig pa ang mga kamay ko habang dina-dial ko ang nunber ni Calvin. Buo na ang isip ko na gawin 'yung plano. Pero may kung anong kaba pa rin talaga akong nararamdaman. I guess, hindi naman mawawala 'yon, given kung ano ang gusto kong mangyari.The phone rang, each ring amplifying the tension, the anxiety, the uncertainty. Finally, he answered, his voice gruff, his tone suggesting he was still asleep."Cali?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “What’s wrong?”“Calvin,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, “Sorry, nagising pa yata kita. Sorry sa istorbo—”"No!" biglang sigaw n'ya. "I-I mean, no harm done. Bakit ka napatawag?”This is it. "I need to see you. I need to talk to you,” dire-diretsong sabi ko.“What is it?” he asked, his voice more alert now, the sleepiness gone, replaced by a note of concern. “Is everything alright?”“No—I mean, yes,” I said, my voice shaking. “Everything's alright. But I still need to talk to you.”“What’s going on?”
Last Updated : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 41
CALISTA'S P. O. VThe coffee shop was bustling, a chaotic symphony of clinking mugs, chattering voices, and the whirring of the espresso machine. But amidst the noise and activity, there was a quiet intimacy, a shared space where two people could connect, could confess, could reconcile. Calvin and I sat at a small table near the window, the city lights blurring into a soft, romantic glow.I started by apologizing, the words tumbling out in a rush, a torrent of regret and remorse.“Calvin,” I began, my voice soft, my gaze fixed on my hands, “I’m so sorry about… everything. About the way I treated you when you were looking for Niccolo. I was so angry, so blinded by my own pain, that I completely lost my temper. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I shouldn’t have slapped you. I’m truly sorry. And… sorry din kung ngayon lang ako nakapag sorry ng personal sa'yo. Sana, maintindihan mo 'ko.”He smiled, a gentle, reassuring smile that eased the tension, the anxiety, the guilt that had
Last Updated : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 42
CALISTA'S P. O. VFirst step, done. I smiled. I was simply lying on my bed and staring at my room's grandiose ceiling. Kauuwi ko lang galing sa coffee shop kung saan kami nagkita ni Calvin. Of course, hinatid n'ya ako. Pero dahil may sasakyan din akong dala, nakasunod lang s'ya sa akin hanggang sa makauwi ako sa amin.I hadn’t gotten back together with Calvin because I loved him. Not anymore. The love I’d felt for him had been overshadowed by the betrayal, the pain, the loss because of what he did several years ago. My feelings for him were complicated, a mixture of gratitude, respect, and a deep sense of obligation. Hindi ko naman itatanggi 'yon. But love? That was gone.My reunion with Calvin was a calculated move, a strategic decision born out of necessity, out of a desperate need for security, for protection. The two black cars tailing me, Niccolo’s blatant attempt to intimidate me—it had all been a wake-up call. I was in danger. And I needed someone to protect me. And I have to s
Last Updated : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 43
CALISTA'S P. O. VThe morning light was harsh, unforgiving, illuminating the shadows of my apartment in a way that felt both unsettling and strangely appropriate. Last night's calculated decision still weighed heavily on my conscience, the guilt a persistent ache beneath the surface of my carefully constructed façade. Pero hindi na ako para ro'n. I have a greater target to achieve—larger than my conscience. I needed Calvin, and I needed him to believe this was real.As I stepped out of the house, there he was. Calvin, in his crisp police uniform, his presence a reassuring contrast to the uncertainty that had become my constant companion. He looked tired, his eyes shadowed, but his smile was genuine, his demeanor reassuring. He was waiting for me.“Good morning,” he said, his voice soft, his eyes kind. “Ready for work?”Lumapit ako sa kanya.“Morning,” I replied, forcing a smile, trying to mask the turmoil within. “Yeah, let’s go.”He opened the passenger door of his car, his hand ling
Last Updated : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 44
CALISTA'S P. O. VThe office building loomed before us, a monolithic structure of glass and steel that reflected the city’s harsh morning light. "We're here,” anunsyo n'ya.As Calvin pulled up to the curb, a familiar tension settled between us, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken complexities of our relationship. It was a fragile truce, a calculated alliance, built on a foundation of deception and a shared need.He turned to me, his eyes searching mine, his expression a mixture of hope and apprehension. He reached out, his hand hovering over mine, a gesture that spoke volumes about his unspoken feelings. I could feel the warmth of his touch, even though it didn't quite reach me. I could sense his unspoken question, the unspoken desire, the unspoken hope. He wanted more than this fragile truce; he wanted something real. And I, for the moment, was content to let him believe it was real.“Thank you ulit,” I said, my voice low, my gaze dropping to my hands. “For driving me.”“It’s… It
Last Updated : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 45
NICCOLO'S P. O. VThe dimly lit room was my sanctuary, a space where shadows danced and secrets whispered. The air hung heavy with the scent of expensive cigars and the unspoken tension that permeated every corner. My usual calm demeanor was a carefully constructed façade, a mask I wore to conceal the turmoil within. But beneath the surface, the anger simmered, a potent cocktail of jealousy and resentment.The man in black stood before me, his posture rigid, his gaze unwavering. He was one of my most trusted men, a shadow in the darkness, a silent observer who reported directly to me. MHe was here to deliver a report, to update me on my current obsession, my current target: Calista Sanchez. Or should I say, Calista Sy.“Positive, Boss,” he said, his voice low, his tone devoid of emotion. “'Yung ex nga ni Miss Sanchez 'yung lalaking laging nakabuntot sa kanya. At 'yung ex boyfriend n'ya na 'yon, 'yun din 'yung pulis na nakabisto sa'yo. At base sa mga napagtanungan ko, mukhang nagkabali
Last Updated : 2024-11-27To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss KABANATA 46
CALISTA'S P. O. VDays bled into weeks, the relentless pursuit a constant, irritating presence in my life. Lagi pa ring nakasunod 'yung dalawang itim na kotse sa akin kahit saan ako magpunta. Walang araw na hindi ko sila nakita. They are always there, a shadow in my rearview mirror, a chilling reminder of Niccolo’s power, his reach, his obsession. They were a constant, unwelcome companion, a persistent irritant that gnawed at my nerves, fueled my anger, and sharpened my resolve.Nakakapagtaka lang dahil sa tinagal tagal ng pagbuntot nila sa akin, hanggang ngayon ay wala naman silang ginagawa na kahit ano laban sa akin. O baka wala pa?I wanted to shake them off, to confront them, to expose them. But I didn't. I endured their constant surveillance, their relentless pursuit, their unwavering presence. I endured it because it was all part of the plan.I know, I could always call for help. That is why I got a policeman boyfriend in the first place. But I chose not to. Because I know, he w
Last Updated : 2024-11-27
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To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss SPECIAL CHAPTER 10
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
