THE BILLIONAIRE’S WEAKNESS

Elena Santiago “Are you sure you want to do this?” Napatingin ako kay Nicholas habang hawak ko ang maliit kong maleta. I gave him a tired smile. “May choice ba ako?” Napabuntong-hininga siya. Wala siyang isinagot. Pareho naming alam ang sagot. Wala. After everything that happened, kailangan kong maghanap ng trabaho agad. Kailangan naming bayaran ang mga utang ni Mama sa ospital. Kailangan din naming ayusin ang maliit naming bahay na halos gumuho na dahil sa bagyo noong nakaraang buwan. At higit sa lahat, kailangan kong tulungan ang kuya ko. Si Nicholas lang ang natitira kong pamilya. Our parents had passed away years ago. Kaya nang may dumating na opportunity para magtrabaho sa isang private estate bilang personal assistant, hindi na ako nagdalawang-isip. Ang problema? Ang employer ko ay ang isa sa pinakamayaman at pinakamakapangyarihang pamilya sa bansa. The Montecillos. “Hindi ordinaryong pamilya ang pagtatrabahuhan mo, Lena,” seryosong sabi ni Nicholas. “I know.” “Hindi mo sila kilala.” “I know.” “Especially the eldest son.” Napakunot ang noo ko. “Who?” “Adrian Montecillo.” Narinig ko na ang pangalan. Actually, sino ba naman ang hindi? Kahit saan ako tumingin sa social media, business news, magazines, at television, palaging lumalabas ang pangalan niya. Adrian Montecillo. Thirty-one years old. CEO of Montecillo Holdings. Youngest billionaire to ever take over the family empire. Cold. Intelligent. Arrogant. At ayon sa mga kuwento, hindi raw ito madaling lapitan. “Why are you telling me this?” tanong ko. “Because I heard he's difficult.” Napangiti ako nang bahagya. “Hindi naman ako pupunta roon para makipagkaibigan.” “Lena.” Tumigil ako. May kakaibang takot sa mga mata ni Nicholas. “Just be careful.” Tumango ako. “I will.” Hindi ko alam noon na ang simpleng paalalang iyon ang magiging simula ng pinakamagulong kabanata ng buhay ko. --- MONTECILLO ESTATE Two hours later, huminto ang taxi sa harap ng isang napakalaking gate. Napatingin ako sa bintana. “Wow…” Hindi ko napigilang sabihin iyon. The gate alone looked more expensive than our entire house. Black iron. Gold details. At sa gitna nito ay ang malaking emblem ng Montecillo family. Pagbukas ng gate, bumungad sa akin ang isang mahabang driveway na napapalibutan ng matataas na puno at perfectly trimmed gardens. Sa dulo ay isang mansion. Hindi. Mansion was an understatement. It looked like a palace. I swallowed hard. “Okay, Elena. Work lang.” Huminga ako nang malalim bago bumaba. Pagkabukas ko ng pinto ng taxi, agad akong sinalubong ng isang matandang babae na naka-uniform. “Miss Santiago?” “Yes.” “I’m Teresa. I’m the head housekeeper here.” Ngumiti siya nang mabait. “Welcome to Montecillo Estate.” “Thank you, Ma'am.” Kinuha niya ang maliit kong maleta. “Ako na po.” “It's okay.” “No, no. Bawal ang guests na nagbubuhat dito.” Napatingin ako sa kanya. “Guest po ako?” Ngumiti siya. “For now.” Hindi ko alam kung bakit parang may ibig sabihin ang sinabi niya. Pero bago pa ako makapagtanong, nagsimula na siyang maglakad. “Come. I’ll show you around.” Sumunod ako. Pagpasok ko sa mansion, halos hindi ako makapagsalita. Marble floors. Crystal chandeliers. Paintings na mukhang nasa museum. Napakalawak ng living room. At halos bawat bagay ay mukhang hindi ko kayang bilhin kahit magtrabaho ako buong buhay ko. “Grabe…” Napatingin sa akin si Teresa. “First time?” Tumango ako. “Hindi ko pa po nakita ang ganito kalaking bahay.” She smiled. “Masasanay ka rin.” “Hindi yata.” Tumawa siya nang mahina. “Marami ang nagsasabi niyan.” Habang naglalakad kami sa hallway, napansin kong tahimik ang buong mansion. Too quiet. Parang walang nakatira. “Nasaan po ang mga may-ari?” “Sir Rafael is in Manila most of the time. Madam Victoria attends charity events. Miss Camille is usually abroad.” “Then…” Nag-atubili ako. “Si Mr. Adrian?” Biglang nagbago ang expression ni Teresa. “Sir Adrian?” “Yes.” “Usually, he comes home late.” “Ah.” “Sometimes past midnight.” “Busy po?” “Very.” Tumango ako. Of course. Billionaire. CEO. Probably has no time for ordinary people like me. Hindi ko na iyon pinag-isipan. At least, iyon ang akala ko. --- 8:47 P.M. First day ko pa lang pero pagod na pagod na ako. I spent the entire afternoon organizing documents, learning the house schedules, and familiarizing myself with Adrian's office requirements. According to Teresa, I would work directly under Adrian. Personal assistant. Meaning, halos lahat ng kailangan niya ay ako ang mag-aayos. Meetings. Schedules. Travel arrangements. Documents. Calls. Emails. At marami pang iba. Pero may isang problema. Hindi ko pa siya nakikita. Until tonight. Nasa kitchen ako nang marinig ko ang tunog ng sasakyan sa labas. Napatingin ako sa orasan. 8:47 P.M. “Sir Adrian,” bulong ni Teresa. Tumigil ang kamay ko. Hindi ko alam kung bakit biglang bumilis ang t***k ng puso ko. Maybe because I had heard so much about him. I heard footsteps approaching. Slow. Steady. Confident. Then the door opened. At doon ko siya unang nakita. Tall. Broad shoulders. Black suit. White shirt slightly open at the collar. His dark hair was slightly messy, as if he had spent the entire day running his hands through it. But it was his eyes that caught my attention. Dark. Sharp. Cold. The kind of eyes that made you feel as though he could see every lie you were trying to hide. Huminto siya nang mapansin niya kami. His gaze landed on Teresa first. Then on me. Hindi ako gumalaw. Neither did he. For several seconds, we simply stared at each other. Then his eyes narrowed. “Who is she?” His voice was deep. Calm. But intimidating. Lumapit si Teresa. “Sir, she's Elena Santiago. Your new personal assistant.” His gaze returned to me. “Personal assistant?” “Yes, sir.” I forced myself to speak. “Good evening, Mr. Montecillo.” He didn't answer my greeting. Instead, he looked at me from head to toe. Hindi bastos. More like he was evaluating whether I belonged in his world. “Who hired you?” “Your father’s office.” His jaw tightened. “My father?” “Yes.” Silence. Then he looked at Teresa. “Did I approve this?” “No, sir.” “Then why is she here?” I felt my patience thinning. I had been polite. But I wasn't going to stand there like a criminal just because he didn't like the idea of having an assistant. “Maybe you should ask your father,” I said. His eyes immediately returned to me. Teresa looked horrified. “Miss Santiago…” “What?” I crossed my arms. “I was hired legally. I signed the contract. I was told to report here today.” Adrian stared at me. For the first time, something changed in his expression. Surprise. Perhaps he wasn't used to people answering back. “Do you always talk like that to your employer?” “Only when my employer talks to me like I'm not supposed to be here.” Silence. Teresa looked like she wanted to disappear. But Adrian… He simply stared at me. Then, unexpectedly, the corner of his mouth lifted. Not a smile. More like amusement. “You're brave.” “I don't think being honest is bravery.” His expression became unreadable again. “What's your name?” “Elena Santiago.” “Elena.” He repeated my name slowly. I don't know why, but hearing my name from his lips felt strangely different. He looked away first. “Be in my office at six tomorrow morning.” I blinked. “Six?” “Yes.” “Office opens at eight.” “I didn't ask what time the office opens.” I stared at him. He stared back. “Six,” he repeated. Then he walked past me. I watched him disappear into the hallway. I turned to Teresa. “Is he always like that?” She sighed. “Unfortunately.” “Six in the morning?” “Yes.” I rubbed my forehead. “Perfect.” --- 11:32 P.M. Hindi ako makatulog. I was staring at the ceiling of my small room inside the estate. Everything felt unfamiliar. The bed was too soft. The room was too quiet. The house was too big. And my employer was… “Arrogant.” I rolled my eyes. “Very arrogant.” I turned to my side. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. But as I closed my eyes, something bothered me. The way Adrian had looked at me. There was something behind those eyes. Something cold. Something wounded. I didn't know why I noticed it. Maybe because I had seen that same expression before. In my own reflection. --- 5:58 A.M. I stood outside Adrian's office. I checked the time. 5:58. I had arrived early. I knocked. No answer. I knocked again. Still nothing. I slowly opened the door. “Mr. Montecillo?” No response. The office was huge. A wall of glass overlooked the city. There were shelves filled with books and documents. Everything was organized perfectly. Except the desk. There was a single photograph lying beside the laptop. I wasn't trying to be nosy. But I saw it. A younger Adrian. Maybe fifteen or sixteen years old. Standing beside an older man. His father. But something was different. The teenage Adrian wasn't smiling. Neither was his father. I stared at the photograph. Then— “Enjoying the view?” I froze. Slowly, I turned around. Adrian was standing near the door. His tie was undone. His sleeves rolled up. His expression unreadable. I immediately stepped away from the desk. “I'm sorry. I was just—” “Looking at something that doesn't belong to you.” “I didn't mean to.” He walked toward the desk. His eyes remained on me. “Then don't do it again.” “Yes.” He picked up the photograph. For a second, his expression softened. Then it disappeared. “You're early.” “You told me six.” “Most people would arrive at six.” I looked at the clock. “It's 5:59.” He looked at his watch. “Exactly.” I almost sighed. Of course. I sat across from him. “What do you need me to do?” He handed me a thick folder. “Read everything.” I opened it. “What's this?” “My schedule for the next three months.” I stared at the pages. “Three months?” “Yes.” “Today?” “Yes.” I looked at him. “You expect me to memorize all of this?” “No.” He leaned back in his chair. “I expect you to understand it.” I shook my head. “This is going to be difficult.” His eyes narrowed. “You're free to resign.” I looked directly at him. “I can't.” “Why?” “Because I need this job.” Something flashed across his face. Curiosity. “Money?” “Yes.” “How much?” I frowned. “Excuse me?” “How much do you need?” “That is none of your business.” His eyebrow lifted. “You need my money.” “I need my salary.” “There's a difference?” “Yes.” For the second time, I saw that almost-smile. “You really don't know when to stop.” “And you really don't know how to talk to people.” Silence. I expected him to get angry. Instead, he laughed. It was quiet. Short. But it was the first time I heard him laugh. And for some strange reason, it made him look less frightening. Then his phone rang. He answered immediately. “Adrian speaking.” His expression changed. The amusement disappeared. He listened. Then stood. “What?” Another pause. “Are you sure?” His face became pale. I watched him carefully. “Send me the file.” He ended the call. I didn't know why, but I could feel that something had changed. “Mr. Montecillo?” He looked at me. For the first time since I met him, I saw fear in his eyes. “Leave.” “What?” “Go back to your room.” “But—” “Now, Elena.” The way he said my name made me freeze. I stood. But before I could leave, he spoke again. “Wait.” I turned. He was staring at the folder in my hands. “Where did you get that?” “The folder?” “Yes.” “From you.” His face hardened. “Open it.” I did. I flipped through the pages. Everything seemed normal. Until I reached the last page. There was an old photograph. My hands suddenly went cold. I knew that picture. I had seen it before. Many times. It was a photograph of my father. My late father. Standing beside a younger Rafael Montecillo. My heart stopped. I looked at Adrian. “What is this?” He didn't answer. “Why is my father in your family's records?” His jaw tightened. “You know him?” “Of course I know him. He's my father.” Adrian stared at me as if the ground had suddenly disappeared beneath his feet. Then he slowly walked toward me. “What's your father's name?” I swallowed. “Gabriel Santiago.” His expression changed. Completely. As if he had just heard the name of a ghost. “Gabriel…” He whispered the name. I nodded. “Yes.” He looked at the photograph again. Then at me. And suddenly, I realized something. He knew my father. Not just by name. He knew him. “You knew him, didn't you?” Adrian remained silent. “Mr. Montecillo.” Still nothing. “Adrian.” The moment I said his first name, his eyes snapped toward mine. And for the first time, the cold billionaire disappeared. There was only a man standing in front of me who looked like he had just remembered something painful. “Your father,” he said slowly, “was the reason my family almost lost everything.” My breathing stopped. “What?” He stepped closer. “Twenty years ago, Gabriel Santiago disappeared with something that belonged to the Montecillo family.” “What did he take?” Adrian looked straight into my eyes. “A secret.” My heart pounded. “What secret?” He didn't answer. Instead, he reached for the folder and took the photograph from my hands. Then he whispered words that I would remember for the rest of my life. “Your father wasn't supposed to have a daughter.” I froze. “What do you mean?” Adrian looked at me with an expression I couldn't understand. Fear. Suspicion. And something else. Something that made my blood run cold. “Because according to the records…” He paused. “…you were never supposed to exist.” My lips parted. I couldn't breathe. And in that moment, I realized that accepting a job at the Montecillo Estate wasn't the beginning of a new life. It was the beginning of a secret that had been waiting for me all along. A secret connected to my father. Connected to Adrian. And perhaps— connected to the reason our paths had crossed. TO BE CONTINUED…