Unseen

Chapter Six

The Salvador residence sat at the edge of Santa Agueda Centro like an old secret the town had long stopped questioning. The house was two stories of fading grandeur, built on inherited land and maintained more for pride than comfort. Olivia approached it with her usual careful steps, her canvas bag slung over her shoulder, her mind already bracing for the cold that waited inside.

Twilight had settled over the barangay, the streetlights flickering one by one. The crickets had begun their nightly chorus when Olivia stopped mid-step at the sight of a black SUV parked neatly in their garage. It was too polished, too sleek, too expensive to belong to anyone from Santa Agueda. She blinked, startled.

Maybe another politician visiting her father. Or someone from Helena’s clan. Or one of Renato’s old friends from Laoag who came around during campaign season.

But something about the way the SUV sat there, quiet, immaculate, intimidating, sent a small ripple down her spine.

She pushed the thought away. Visitors were common. Silence was safer. She walked up the steps, pushed the door open gently, and stepped inside.

The air in the living room felt heavy, thick with tension she could sense even before she saw who was seated there. Renato sat on the long sofa, stiff-backed and restless. Helena was beside him, her posture rigid and elegant, the cold sharpness of her profile unmistakable even from afar. Clarisse lounged on the armchair, legs crossed, eyes glittering with excitement she didn’t even bother hiding. Marco scrolled on his phone but kept glancing up, alert in a way he rarely was.

And on the lounge chair, angled slightly away from them as though he was not part of the room but ruling it, sat a man Olivia recognized instantly.

Simon Jimenez.

She felt her breath hitch.

Everyone in Ilocos Norte knew the Jimenez clan. They were the kind of wealthy that didn’t need to announce itself; power clung to their name like a second skin. Northphil Air. Aurora Skies Group. Real estate empires. Old blood money fused with modern dominance. The Jimenez family didn’t walk into towns, they changed them.

She had seen Simon in newspapers, in articles discussing major developments, in features about business magnates. He wasn’t the kind of handsome that drew giggles and whispers. He was the kind that made people straighten, sit up, rethink their choices. Sharp-jawed, dark-eyed, broad-shouldered. A man carved in clean, cold lines. A man who carried danger without raising his voice.

And when their eyes met, Olivia froze.

His gaze was steady, unreadable. Not warm. Not curious. Simply observing. As though he was trying to understand why she was standing there at all.

Her heart thudded once, hard.

Renato noticed her at last. “Olivia,” he said, chair shifting as he sat straighter. “Come. Join us.”

She hesitated, unsure. Clarisse shot her a glare sharp enough to cut. Helena’s lips thinned.

“This meeting is too important,” Helena said, voice like ice slicing through still water. “It does not concern her. Tell her to go to the kitchen. She can help Caring prepare dinner.”

Her words landed with the usual familiar sting. Olivia lowered her gaze, fingers tightening around her bag strap. Of course she wasn’t wanted. She rarely was.

But before she could step away, Simon spoke.

His voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.

“Helena,” he said calmly, with that cold assurance of someone used to commanding rooms, “you are not in the position to dictate who should be present.”

The room stilled.

Helena’s eyes snapped to him, disbelief flickering across her face. No one talked to her like that in her own home.

Simon didn’t look at her. He kept his gaze on Olivia, something analytical in the way he studied her, as though she were the missing element in a plan he had already crafted.

“What I am about to discuss concerns everyone here,” he continued. “Including her.”

Olivia felt her breath catch again, not out of fear of him, but out of the sudden, sharp panic of being pulled into something she didn’t understand. Her palms grew warm. Her throat tightened.

Helena’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “This is absurd. She has no place in—”

Simon cut her off without lifting a brow.

“She stays.”

The simplicity of the words held more weight than any shout.

Renato swallowed, uncertain. Clarisse stared, puzzled and offended. Marco lifted his gaze, genuinely curious now.

And Olivia…She stood there, motionless, confused, afraid, unsure why a man like Simon Jimenez would insist on her presence. Unsure why her quiet existence suddenly felt like it had been dragged beneath a brighter, harsher spotlight.

She stepped forward slowly, her pulse a steady drum against her ribs, and took the empty seat across from him.

Whatever this meeting was, she was now part of it.

And for the first time in her life, Olivia sensed that someone in this house, someone far more powerful than any of them, had decided she would no longer be invisible.