CALISTA'S P. O. VThe descent to the breakfast table should have been a mundane act, a simple transition from one part of the day to another. Instead, it felt charged, tense, heavy with unspoken anxieties and simmering resentments. Niccolo walked beside me, his arm brushing against mine, his touch both possessive and protective. But the air crackled with a different kind of energy, a different kind of tension. Lyra was there, already seated at the table, her presence a stark contrast to the usual quiet solitude of the mornings. Her gaze was sharp, her expression cold, her demeanor hostile. And it was directed squarely at me.“Good morning, Lyra,” I said, my voice carefully modulated, my tone laced with a practiced politeness. The greeting was met with a withering stare, a cold, dismissive silence. The pretense of normalcy, the carefully constructed illusion of a happy couple— it was crumbling.“So the news is true,” Lyra finally said, her voice sharp, her tone laced with a mixture o
CALISTA'S P. O. VLyra’s warning echoed in my ears, a chilling reminder of the danger I was in, the precariousness of my situation. Kahit nakabalik na ako sa kwarto ay tumatakbo pa rin 'yon sa isip ko. At ngayon na mag isa lang ako ay lalong inaba ng isipin na 'yon ang utak ko. The casual cruelty with which Niccolo had struck his own sister, the cold fury in his eyes— it had shaken me to my core. If he could treat his own family with such brutality, what would he do to me? Lalo na kapag galit pa s'ya? Especially if he discovered my deception, my manipulation, my plan for revenge?Fear gnawed at me, a cold, relentless dread that threatened to consume me. The carefully constructed facade, the calculated confidence, the unwavering resolve— they all crumbled in the face of this raw, visceral fear. My safety, my well-being— they were suddenly precarious, uncertain, threatened. The escape, the revengpe— they seemed increasingly distant, increasingly elusive.The thought of retreating, of
NICCOLO'S P. O. VLyra’s words struck me like a physical blow, each syllable a sharp, stinging rebuke, each accusation a cold, hard truth I couldn’t deny. We stood facing each other, the tension between us thick, palpable, suffocating. Her eyes blazed with a fury I hadn’t seen before, a righteous anger that chilled me to the bone. And I knew, with a chilling certainty, that she was right. I had been wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong. Just somehow. “You’re making a huge mistake, Kuya,” she said, her voice low, her tone laced with a chilling conviction. “Isang napakalaking pagkakamali. Dead wrong to defend that woman. One day, you’ll see it. Tandaan mo 'yan. And when that day came, expect me to say "I told you so."”Her words hung in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on me, suffocating me. Ayoko s'yang kaharapin lalo na at pareho pa kaming mainit. But I couldn't shake the feeling that she just made me feel. At ayoko rin na kimkimin lahat ng 'to. And somehow, I know, I better spea
CALISTA'S P. O. VMy mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, a tempestuous storm of fear, anger, and determination. Lyra’s warning, Niccolo’s brutality, the precariousness of my situation—they all swirled together, a chaotic mix that threatened to overwhelm me. Hanggang ngayon, hindi 'yon mabura bura sa isip ko. Escape, revenge— they seemed increasingly distant, increasingly elusive. And yet, I would not surrender. I would not give up. I would win.Determinado akong lumaban at determinado akong manalo. Dahil determinado akong makuha ang hustisya. I was lost in thought, my mind racing, my senses heightened, when the door creaked open, and Niccolo entered the room. He approached me slowly, his movements hesitant, his demeanor subdued. He knelt beside me, his gaze lingering on my face, his expression a mixture of guilt and concern. He reached out, his hand gently caressing my cheek, his touch tentative, hesitant.“Calista,” he whispered, his voice soft, his tone laced with a gen
CALISTA'S P. O. VThe darkness of my room was a comforting blanket, a familiar solace after the day's events. Medyo napagod ako sa pag iikot sa bahay at sa paggawa ng ilang activities. I've decided to bake some chocolate cake. 'Tapos marami pa akong ginawa kaya napagod na rin ako. Sa sobrang pagod ko, hindi ko na nagawang hintayin si Niccolo o alamin man lang kung nakauwi na ba s'ya. I don't care about it, anyway. Just… part of the plan. I was drifting off to sleep, my mind still reeling from Lyra’s warning, Niccolo’s apology, the ever-present tension simmering beneath the surface of our uneasy truce, when the door creaked open. Nag aagaw na ang antok at kamalayan ko nang nga oras na 'yon. Niccolo stood silhouetted in the doorway, his upper body bare, his physique strikingly defined against the dim light, his baggy pants the only concession to modesty. My breath hitched in my throat. He was undeniably attractive, his muscular frame a testament to his strength, his sculpted featur
CALISTA'S P. O VLyra’s words, her accusations, her unwavering hostility— they all painted a vivid picture of the Fibonacci family, a portrait of dysfunction and chaos that far surpassed anything I had ever imagined. It was a family bound by blood, by loyalty, by shared history, yet riven by internal conflicts, simmering resentments, and a palpable sense of dysfunction. They were a unit, a whole, yet they were more fractured, more chaotic, more unstable than any family I had ever known. The intensity of their emotions, the ferocity of their conflicts, the depth of their resentments— it was all overwhelming, all suffocating. And it solidified my determination to escape, to break free from their toxic embrace, to distance myself from their destructive influence. This was a family I would regret being a part of, a family I wanted nothing to do with.Kung titingnan, mukhang magulo pa sila sa pamilya na meron ako, eh. Kahit 'wag na idamay 'yung katotohanan na miyembro pa sila ng isang ma
CALISTA'S P. O. VWaking up alone, the emptiness beside me a stark reminder of Niccolo's absence, sent a jolt of something akin to disappointment through me. Bakit pa napakahilig n'yang mang iwan? Bakiy napakahilig n'yang iwanan ako?The carefully constructed intimacy of the previous night, the calculated surrender, the fleeting moment of connection— it had all been a performance, a calculated move in a larger game. And yet, a strange sense of unease settled over me, a disquieting feeling that something was amiss.I went downstairs, intending to find Niccolo, to gauge his mood, to assess the situation. But instead of him, I found Lyra, her presence unexpected, her demeanor hostile. She was leaning against a wall, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. The encounter was fraught with unspoken tensions, simmering resentments, and a palpable sense of danger.Bago pa man n'ya ako makita ay tumalikod na agad ako at naglakad ulit paakyat sa hagdan. But I guess, it was too late. Dahil
CALISTA'S P. O. VHindi ako nakatulog ng maayos kagabi. Hindi kasi mawala sa isip ko kung ano ba 'yung surprise ba sinasabi ni Niccolo. But anyways, wala na akong pake sa hindi maayos at kulang na tulog. Ang mahalaga, nagising pa ako. And that I have one more day to establish my revenge! The morning light felt different, brighter, sharper, imbued with a sense of anticipation I couldn't quite explain. Niccolo's written note of notice, his promise of a surprise, had kept me awake half the night, my mind racing, my imagination spinning out scenarios, possibilities, plans. And now, as I saw him standing before me, his expression a mixture of anticipation and amusement, I knew this was it. This was my chance.He was dressed impeccably, his usual casual attire replaced by a tailored suit that accentuated his physique, his presence commanding, his demeanor confident. And in his hand, he held a sleek, modern smartphone. "Ready to know what surprise do I have for you?” nakangiting sabi n'y
CALI'S P. O. VThe scent of freshly baked bread and cinnamon filled the air, a comforting aroma that mingled with the laughter of my son, Lewis, as he toddled around the kitchen, his chubby hands reaching for the colorful toys scattered on the floor. It was a scene of domestic bliss, a far cry from the sterile white walls of the Hong Kong hospital waiting room five years ago. Five years. Five years since Niccolo had walked back into my life, his eyes filled with regret and a desperate hope for a second chance. Five years since I had taken a leap of faith, a chance on a love that had once been shattered. Five years since we had built a life together, a life filled with laughter, love, and the sweet chaos of family. We were married now, our vows whispered under a canopy of blooming cherry blossoms, a symbol of new beginnings. Our wedding was small, intimate, a testament to the journey we had taken, the scars we had overcome. Hana was our maid of honor, her eyes sparkling with joy as s
CALISTA'S P. O. VThe air in the hospital waiting room crackled with tension. Mabilis lang natapos ang operasyon kay Ayi Hana and it was successful. Mabilis lang at walang naging kahit anong aberya kaya hindi ko na kinailangang mamroblema. Kung may pinoproblema man ako ngayon, 'yun ay si Niccolo at si Calvin na bigla ring lumitaw dito sa ospital. I could have understand kung sa ospital sa Pilipinas lang sila biglang sumulpot nang halos sabay. But no! It was Hong Kong, for crying out loud! And since they met each other, I could already sense a silent storm brewing between them. I stood between them, a fragile bridge over a chasm of hurt and unspoken words. Niccolo, his face etched with regret and a desperate hope, looked at me, his eyes pleading for a chance, a second chance. But Calvin, his face a mask of icy resolve, stood firm, his gaze unwavering."Niccolo," Calvin said, his voice low and dangerous, "You think you can just waltz back into her life, after all this time and expect
CALISTA'S P. O. VThe sterile white walls of the hospital waiting room seemed to amplify the silence between us, a silence thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Niccolo stood before me, his face a canvas of regret and longing, his eyes pleading for a chance, a second chance. But the chasm between us, carved by years of silence and the bitter sting of betrayal, seemed insurmountable.Ilang beses ko na s'yang pinaalis pero mukhang wala s'yang balak na makinig. Lalabas at papasok na lang ulit ako sa hospital room ni Ayi Hana ay nandoon pa rin s'ya sa labas—naghihintay. Kaya para matigil na s'ya sa ginagawa n'ya, naisip ko nang harapin s'ya for once and for all. "Cali," he began, his voice husky with emotion, "I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But I've changed. I've spent years regretting my choices, wishing I could turn back time." His words washed over me, a tidal wave of regret and longing. I knew he was sincere, I could see it in his eyes, in the way his shoulders
CALISTA'S P. O. VThe whirring of the airplane engine was a constant hum, a lullaby against the backdrop of my anxiety. Beside me, Ayi Hana slept, her hand clutching my own. Her face was peaceful, oblivious to the turmoil swirling within me. It was a journey I’d never imagined taking, a pilgrimage fueled by guilt and a desperate hope. I was taking her to Hong Kong, not for a holiday, but for a miracle. I had arranged everything for Ayi Hana’s surgery, a chance for her to see the world again after years of darkness. Dahil oo, nabulag s'ya. It was an accident—pero aksidente na alam kong sinadya ni Margaret ng anak n'yang demonyita na si Monica.The flight was long, filled with a mix of anticipation and dread. Finally, Hong Kong. The air was thick with humidity, the city a symphony of honking taxis and bustling crowds. I felt a strange sense of displacement, a feeling of being both a stranger and a strong, independent woman who is willing to do everything for the woman who stood as her
CALISTA'S P. O. VThe air hung heavy with the scent of jasmine and the soft murmur of prayers. I stood at the threshold of Ayi Hana's room, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird. It had been months since I last saw her, years since the scandal that had ripped our family apart. Months since I had last called her "Ayi."She sat by the window, her frail hands clasped in her lap, her face etched with a weariness that spoke of years of sorrow. Her eyes, once bright and welcoming, were now clouded with a milky film, the light of life dimmed. "Ayi Hana," I whispered, my voice trembling.She turned, her head moving slowly, her lips curving into a faint, sad smile. "Cali," she said, her voice a raspy whisper. "You've come."I stepped into the room, the worn, familiar scent of sandalwood and incense washing over me. I knelt beside her, my hand reaching out to touch hers. It was cold, frail, a stark contrast to the warmth I remembered."I'm so sorry, Ayi," I said, my voice choke
CALISTA'S P. O. VThe reconciliation with my father was a fragile thing, a delicate balance of forgiveness, understanding, and a shared grief. After years of estrangement, of resentment, of unspoken accusations, we finally stood together, embracing, our bodies trembling, our emotions raw. The weight of the past, the burden of the years, the pain of the separation— it all seemed to lift, to dissolve, to fade.“Calista,” my father whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his arms wrapped tightly around me. “My Calista. Anak ko, I’m so sorry.”“I know, Dad,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper, my own tears streaming down my face. “I know.”“I was wrong,” he continued, his voice laced with a genuine remorse. “I was blinded by Margaret, by her lies, by her manipulations. I didn’t see what she was doing. I didn’t protect you. Kayo ng mommy mo. I failed you. I failed our family.”“It’s okay, Dad,” I said, my voice soft, my tone reassuring. “It’s over now. We’re together again. And promis
CALISTA'S P. O. VThe courtroom was a pressure cooker, the air thick with tension, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Margaret’s trial had been swift, the evidence overwhelming, the verdict inevitable. Multiple charges, multiple convictions— she was facing a lifetime behind bars, a fitting punishment for her crimes. Monica, her accomplice, her equally culpable daughter, was also being sought, her complicity in Margaret’s schemes now undeniable.The inquest was a formality, a mere procedural step in the larger process of justice. But the tension in the courtroom was palpable, the atmosphere charged with a volatile energy. And then, chaos erupted. Men, their faces masked, their weapons drawn, stormed the courtroom, gunfire shattering the tense silence, sending the room into pandemonium. Margaret’s new boyfriend’s men, I realized with a chilling certainty. Their objective was clear— to make Margaret be able to escape.The scene unfolded in a blur of motion, a chaotic ballet of
CALISTA'S P. O. VTwo days. It had only taken two days. Two days since I’d sent the evidence to Calvin, two days since I’d confronted Margaret, two days since I’d resolved to channel my anger into action. And now, the call came, Calvin’s voice crisp, his tone controlled. Margaret had a warrant. Her arrest had been swift, almost too easy, facilitated by her very presence in my home. The irony was not lost on me.The details of her interrogation were chilling, the confession even more so. It had been Margaret, my stepmother, the woman who had pretended to care for my father, who had orchestrated my mother’s death. And she’d confessed, not out of remorse, not out of guilt, but out of a chilling, almost gleeful sense of triumph.Her voice, cold and devoid of emotion, echoed in my ears, her words a venomous sting that pierced my heart, ignited my fury. “You’re so clever! Hindi ko naisip na magagawa mo 'to. In fact, hindi ko inisip na ikaw pala ang makaka discover ng mga ginawa ko,” she
CALISTA'S P. O. VKinabukasan. Sa office. May mga dumating pang bagong ebidensya galing kay Rexia. The digital copies of the evidence arrived as promised, a weighty collection of documents that confirmed Rexia’s account, solidified my suspicions, and fueled my anger. The photographs, the financial records, the communication logs— they were all damning, all irrefutable. Margaret’s treachery, her greed, her ruthlessness— it was all laid bare, exposed, undeniable.Without hesitation, I made copies of everything, ensuring I had a backup before sending the originals to Calvin. He’d promised to review the evidence and take appropriate action, his assurance a reassuring balm to my simmering anger. The weight of responsibility, the burden of expectation— it was heavy, but I carried it with a newfound resolve, a steeled determination.Returning home, I found Margaret and Monica waiting, their presence a stark reminder of the simmering conflict that lay beneath the surface of our uneasy truce.