Counterpoint

Chapter Seventeen

Brianna reread the email from the University of British Columbia one last time.

Subject: Approved Leave of Absence – Bachelor of Commerce (BCom) Program.

The formality of the words pleased her. It made the lie feel legitimate.She deleted the email, then opened another tab, the online enrollment portal for the College of Business at De La Salle University.

It was a step down academically, but that didn’t matter. This wasn’t about education. This wassexout geography. And power. And Jordan Saavedra.

By the end of the week, she had secured a two-bedroom condo in Rockwell, a gleaming unit on the 24th floor with a panoramic view of Makati’s restless skyline.It fit her perfectly, modern, expensive, detached. It was a stage for whatever came next.

Her parents didn’t understand, of course. They tried to. They always did.

At brunch in the Peninsula, her father frowned over his coffee.“Transferring?” Luke Kim repeated, disbelief clouding his features. “You’re at Sauder, Brianna. That’s one of the best business schools in the world.”

“To Manila,” she said simply, spreading jam on her croissant. “Same degree. Different continent.”

Her mother blinked, her teacup trembling slightly. “You took a year’s leave, darling. Why not return? Why throw that away?”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Brianna replied smoothly. “I’m optimizing.”

Then she leaned forward, lowering her voice just enough for the words to sound fragile. “I’m tired, Mom. You sent me away when I was twelve. I’ve spent years pretending that I’m fine, studying in silence, watching the seasons change through apartment windows. I’m done proving myself. I need to be home.”

Her father softened instantly. Her mother’s face crumpled into guilt.

“I just want to learn the business here,” Brianna continued, voice cracking perfectly on cue. “You always said education matters less than exposure, didn’t you? Let me see the world you built. Let me belong to it.”

It was a flawless performance, the balance of sincerity and strategy only she could deliver.By dessert, her parents were comforting her. By dinner, she was free to stay.

Within two weeks, she was a Manila resident, her life neatly arranged.Classes at DLSU were merely a formality.Her real education was happening elsewhere, in the glossy conference rooms of Solaya Publishing Group and the quiet corridors of Jordan Saavedra’s professional world.

He was based in Makati now, working on a long-form series about corruption and corporate power. The irony of that wasn’t lost on her.He was trying to uncover monsters while unknowingly creating one.

That evening, her phone vibrated.A message.Jordan: 9:30 p.m. Usual place.

No warmth. No question. Just command.

When she arrived, he was already there, standing by the window, staring at the city like he was searching for an escape route.

“You’re transferring your degree,” he said without turning around. His tone wasn’t curious. It was accusatory.

“I’m expanding my horizons,” Brianna said, removing her gloves and placing them neatly on the table.

“You destroyed your future for this,” he said coldly, still facing the window. “You had everything, and you threw it away for something you don’t even understand.”

“I understand more than you think,” she said, her voice low, deliberate. “I did it for us.”

That got him to turn. His eyes burned. “There is no us, Brianna.”

She smiled, faintly, unshaken. “You keep saying that like it will eventually be true.”

He stepped toward her, anger radiating from every movement. “You think this is power? Throwing your life away just to prove a point?”

“I think it’s commitment,” she replied. “You should try it sometime.”

Jordan’s jaw tightened. He stopped inches from her. “You’ve turned this into a game.”

“And you keep playing,” she said softly. “That’s not my fault.”

For a long moment, neither spoke. The city hummed below them, neon lights flickering through the glass.

Then his voice broke the silence, sharp and low. “You’re a spoiled child, Brianna. You manipulate everyone around you because you don’t know who you are without control. You want power, not love. You wouldn’t know love if it stood in front of you.”

Her smirk faltered, but only for a second. “You talk about love like it’s a virtue,” she said. “But you’re the one who keeps coming back.”

Something flnippled in his eyes, rage, guilt, maybe both. He turned away abruptly, running a hand through his hair.

“You ruin everything you touch,” he muttered.

“Then stop touching me,” she said.

He didn’t answer. He just stood there, motionless, shoulders tense. For a second, she thought he might walk away again. But he didn’t.

And in that silence, Brianna understood something that made her pulse steady and hsexsmile return.

He hated her. He resented her. He pitied her. But he still couldn’t stay away.

It wasn’t love. Not yet. But it was control.

And for Brianna Kim, that was enough, for now.