Chapter Four
1228 Words
David’s POV
Rooftop. Champagne. Stars above
Pero ngayong gabi, may isang bagay na mas makinang pa sa mga bituin ang babae.
She walked out of her cabin wearing a silky wine-red slip dress one that clung to her body like it was tailored with desire. Manipis ang strap, mababa ang neckline, at medyo mataas ang slit sa hita. It was elegant… but deadly.
I nearly dropped my drink.
“Wow,” I said, leaning against the rail. “Are we celebrating something?”
“Wala,” sagot niya, simple lang, sabay upo sa may lounge chair. “Ayoko lang ng lagi akong naka-oversized shirt.”
“Huh,” I muttered. “So... let me get this straight. You just randomly decided to dress like that tonight? On a private yacht? With me? In the middle of the sea?”
She smirked. “Bakit? May problema ba, Mr. Yao?”
“Oh, wala. I’m just wondering if this is your way of slowly torturing me.”
Napahagikhik siya, 'yung parang sinadya pang pakipot. “Torture agad? Baka naman ikaw lang ang marupok.”
“Sweetheart,” I said, taking a sip of my whiskey, “If marupok has a face right now, it’s mine.”
Tumabi ako sa kanya. Hindi masyadong malapit, pero sapat na para maramdaman ang init ng balat niya kahit may hangin.
“Seriously,” I said after a beat. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
She turned to me, unbothered. “Kung oo?”
Napatawa ako, bahagyang umiling. “Then congratulations. Mission halfway accomplished.”
“Half lang?” tanong niya, kunwari disappointed. “Akala ko full effect na.”
“Nope,” I said, leaning a little closer. “’Yung buong effect, kailangan ng permiso.”
She looked away, taking a slow sip of her wine. “Then don’t hold your breath.”
Kinabukasan
Sa totoo lang, akala ko mahihirapan ako makatulog pagkatapos noon. Pero surprisingly, I did. Hindi dahil sa katahimikan ng dagat kundi dahil sa katahimikan niya. Walang sinabi. Walang pang-aakit pa.
Parang okay na sa kanya ‘yung presence lang. Parang gusto niya lang mapansin na babae rin siya hindi lang panganay, breadwinner, o solusyon sa problema ng pamilya.
And maybe that’s what made her even sexier.
Pagkagising ko the next morning, bumaba ako sa kitchen at nandoon ulit siya.
White robe this time. Hair is slightly messy. Walang makeup parin. Pero pucha, parang cover ng Vogue.
“Good morning,” Bati ko.
“Hmm,” sagot niya. Same nonchalant tone, but with a glint in her eye.
“Gusto mo bang pag-usapan ang suot mo kagabi?” tanong ko, diretso.
She raised an eyebrow. “Bakit? Na-disturb ka ba?”
“Disturbed is an understatement,” sagot ko. “More like haunted.”
She chuckled. “Eh ‘di tigilan mo ang panonood. Wala namang pilitan.”
“Hindi mo naman ako pinipilit,” I said, leaning against the counter. “Pero ‘yung damit mo? ‘Yung legs mo? ‘Yung slit na halos umabot sa—”
“Saan David?”
I froze. Tumigil ang bibig ko.
She turned to me, serious now. “Nakataas ang kilay.
Tahimik ako ng ilang segundo. Tapos ngumiti.
Kalimutan na natin yon. mahina niya sabi sabay talikod at kumuha ng orange juice sa fridge
Fourth day. Still no s*x. Still no kiss. Still no drama.
At this point, even my assistant back in Manila was probably betting I’d be bored and back in the city by now mission failed, ego bruised, and ten million pesos poorer.
But I wasn’t bored.
I was intrigued. Obsessed, maybe.
Cassie had this annoying habit of surprising me every single damn day.
Just like tonight.
Rooftop deck. Clear sky. Salt in the air. A bottle of red wine. And then there was her walking barefoot in a satin slip dress that looked like it was stitched by the devil himself. Crimson red, with a slit that went far too high and straps that barely existed.
I choked on my wine. “Seriously?”
She raised a brow, casually draping a shawl over her shoulders. “What? Mainit sa kwarto.”
“Right. So naisip mong akitin ako sa sarili kong yate?” I teased, resting my arm along the back of the couch, watching her settle into the lounge chair across me.
She rolled her eyes, reaching for her glass. “If I wanted to seduce you, Mr. Yao, you’d be begging.”
God. The confidence on this woman.
“And here I was, trying so hard to be a gentleman,” I smirked. “But fine, blame me if I look at your legs like they’re a threat to national security.”
“You should. These legs paid for half of our electric bills growing up. Tumayo ako sa tiangge, mall booth, at event halls gamit ang mga ‘to.”
I laughed. “So you’re telling me... sexy with a side of sentimental trauma? I’m in.”
She clicked her tongue. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re wearing that and expecting what Bible study?”
She ignored me. Sipped her wine. Looked up at the sky like I wasn’t openly drooling.
But the truth was… I wasn’t just looking at her body. I was watching the way she carried herself. Relaxed. Confident. She wasn’t trying to impress me. She wasn’t playing games. She was just... being herself.
And that? That was deadly.
“So,” I said, casually swirling my wine, “why the change? You were a total ice queen two days ago. Now look at you wearing lingerie in public, drinking with a notorious billionaire. Should I be worried?”
She looked at me, eyes soft but steady. “I realized you’re not worth stressing over.”
I placed a hand on my chest, mock offended. “Ouch. Right in the ego.”
She smirked. “You’ll survive.”
We talked for hours. About random things kung gaano karaming bote ng wine ang kaya niyang ubusin before she starts dancing, kung paano ako minsang naiwan ng private jet dahil na-late ako sa breakfast, and the worst job she ever had.
And somewhere in between teasing and storytelling, something shifted.
Her laughter wasn’t guarded anymore.
My sarcasm wasn’t a shield it was a bridge.
We weren’t just strangers with a deal. We were... something else. Something we couldn’t name yet.
The next morning
I walked into the kitchen, still groggy from the wine last night.
And there she was again wearing my white button-down shirt.
Just that.
Long sleeves, messy bun, no makeup. She was making coffee like she owned the place. Or me. Possibly both.
I leaned on the doorway, arms crossed. “Okay. Seriously. Are you doing this on purpose?”
She turned, blinking. “What?”
“You. Looking like a walking fantasy at 8 A.M. wearing my shirt. That’s psychological warfare.”
She sipped her coffee, totally unbothered. “Relax. I didn’t pack a pang-gising outfit. And this was clean.”
I walked closer, pretending to inspect her like she was a walking HR violation. “Hmm. Buttoned wrong. Unacceptable.”
She backed away with a grin.
“Inflation.”
I shook my head, laughing.
And right then, I knew
This girl? She was trouble.
The kind I’d pay again and again just to keep close.
-Itutuloy...
- Writer
