Chapter Fourteen
937 Words
The morning after the gala, Brianna didn’t cry.She never cried.
She woke up late, the Manila light spilling through the curtains like an interrogation. Her head ached faintly from the champagne, but the real pain was sharper, humiliation, coiled deep under her skin like something venomous.
Jordan’s words played over and over in her head.You should be ashamed of yourself.
He had spoken to her like she was beneath him. Like she was a child.Like she didn’t matter.
And that, Brianna decided, was something she could not allow.
A week later, she stood in her parents’ study in Vigan, perfectly composed as always, a soft smile playing at her lips.
“I’ve decided to defer next semester,” she said simply.
Her mother looked up from her papers. “Defer?”
Her father frowned. “Brianna, that’s absurd. You’re doing well at UBC. What’s gotten into you?”
“I just need a break,” she said smoothly. “You both said I’ve been working too hard. Consider it a mental reset.”
Laurel crossed her arms, skeptical. “And you plan to stay here?”
Brianna shook her head. “No. In Manila. I want to help Tita George with Solaya. She mentioned taking me under her wing for a while. You said yourselves it’s important to understand the business world beyond the classroom.”
Luke narrowed his eyes. “Since when do you care about publishing?”
“Since I realized exposure matters more than education,” Brianna said, her tone sweet but edged. “Relax, it’s temporary. One semester. Then I’ll go back.”
Her mother sighed, exchanging a worried glance with her husband. “Just promise me this isn’t about… something else.”
Brianna’s smile didn’t waver. “It’s about ambition, Ma. You should be proud.”
And that was the end of it. No one questioned her twice.
Because Brianna Kim always got what she wanted.
Makati felt like the opposite of Vigan, all steel and movement, full of people chasing something they couldn’t name.
Brianna liked it. The chaos made her feel alive.
She moved into a serviced apartment overlooking Ayala Avenue, close enough to the Solaya offices, and, more importantly, close enough to him.
Jordan Saavedra worked for a media partner in the city, covering stories that gave him credibility and purpose, agricultural reforms, rural politics, social issues. His byline appeared everywhere.
She had memorized his schedule before she even unpacked.
Press events. Dinners. Panel discussions. Every place he would be, she would know.
She called it strategy. Others might have called it obsession.
But obsession was just focus with better branding.
Her first move was public.
Solaya had partnered with Echelon and a major media firm for a networking reception, “a collaboration between the storytellers of the country’s growth,” as Georgina had described it.
Brianna volunteered to coordinate. It gave her access to every guest list, every seating plan, every time slot.
And she made sure Jordan Saavedra’s name appeared on all of them.
The night of the event, she arrived early. The ballroom was already humming, lights dim, cameras flashing, people weaving through polished marble floors.
She spotted him across the room, surrounded by colleagues, laughing easily, a glass in hand.He looked different in this world, less guarded, more human.
And for the first time, she realized something unsettling.She didn’t just want to be near him.She wanted to undo him.
She approached when the crowd thinned, calm as glass.
“Mr. Saavedra,” she greeted, her tone polite but deliberate.
Jordan turned, startled for only a moment. His eyes flicked with recognition, then irritation. “Miss Kim. You again.”
“Manila’s small,” she said, her smile barely there.
He gave a low laugh. “You move fast. I heard you deferred school. That’s quite a decision.”
She lifted her chin. “Some of us prefer to live in the real world.”
“Is that what this is?” he asked. “Living?”
“Something like that,” she said. “Don’t sound so worried. I’m not stalking you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He gave her a look, not cruel, not mocking, but tired. “You’re smarter than this.”
“Maybe I’m bored,” she said. “Or maybe I’m curious.”
Jordan leaned closer slightly, his tone low, steady, and firm. “Then be curious about something else, Brianna. This, whatever you think you’re doing, won’t end well.”
She didn’t look away. “You assume I’m looking for an ending.”
“Everyone is,” he said. “They just pretend otherwise.”
She smiled faintly, but there was no warmth in it. “You sound philosophical. How many drinks did that take?”
“Enough to tell you the truth,” he said.
“And what’s that?”
“That you’re chasing something that isn’t yours to take,” Jordan said quietly. “You mistake desire for destiny. And if you keep playing this game, you’ll ruin more than yourself.”
Brianna’s smile froze, not from hurt, but from anger.
He was lecturing her again. Talking to her like she was a foolish child who didn’t know the rules.
But she did know them. She just never played by them.
When he walked away, she didn’t stop him this time. She didn’t need to.
Because this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Brianna stood there for a long time, watching him disappear into the crowd.Her reflection shimmered faintly in the mirrored wall, poised, perfect, beautiful.
Everyone had a breaking point.
And she would find his.
- Writer
