The February heat pressed against the windows of Paul’s penthouse, softening the Manila skyline into gold and shadow.
Mariella lay tangled in black satin sheets, skin still flushed from hours of indulgence. The world outside buzzed faintly, but inside, everything was still, until Paul’s phone vibrated on the nightstand.
He ignored it once. Twice.On the third buzz, he reached for it with a sigh.
“Alex,” he said, voice low and even.
Mariella stirred beside him, half-drowsy, watching the shift in his posture, from languid lover to strategist.
On the other end came Alexander Almeda’s voice, smooth but frayed at the edges. “Paul, it’s everywhere. Twitter, t****k, news blogs, Sheila called Jessica out at their school. And Jessica…” He hesitated, a pause heavy enough to expose what he wouldn
