Chapter 8
1236 Words
Lucrescia Marie Cordova lived for gossip. Not the shallow kind she spread around herself. Oh no, she prided herself on being more of a “consumer” than a “supplier.” But the truth was simple: a single whispered rumor was enough to set her heart racing and her imagination into overdrive.
And this morning, the whispers had been too irresistible to ignore.
A wealthy visitor had arrived at her cousin Kelseay’s house. A relative of Kelseay’s husband, no less. For Lucrescia, this was no ordinary event; it was a cosmic invitation. The stars, the heavens, and even the barangay marites seemed to align just for her.
Naturally, she wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Her bedroom was a whirlwind of discarded clothes and tossed accessories. Dresses flew one way, earrings the other. Every hair clip, every scarf, every possible “statement piece” was auditioned and rejected within seconds.
From the doorway, her mother leaned against the frame with the practiced elegance of someone who never left the house without looking like she’d just stepped out of a photoshoot.
“For heaven’s sake, sweetheart,” Momsie drawled, her voice filled with affectionate mockery. “Look human for once.”
Lucy spun on her heel, brandishing two completely mismatched shoes. “Human? Ha! I’m basically a goddess. The barangay aunties should count themselves lucky if I even deign to walk among mortals.”
Momsie rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Even goddesses need a little powder.” She reached out, dabbing Lucy’s cheek with a puff before her daughter could protest.
Behind her, Papsie straightened his tie, muttering to himself about “high society manners” and “presentability,” as though they were heading to Malacañang instead of a family house.
But Lucy was already done fussing. She tugged at her bangs, smoothed her blouse, and struck a mock-heroic pose in front of the mirror. Confidence radiated from her, as always, bubbling up in every exaggerated gesture.
A sparkle lit her grin. “Perfect. The universe is about to witness peak Lucy.”
While her parents continued their endless ritual of grooming and mirror-gazing, Lucy was already halfway out the door. Her strides were light but purposeful, her energy effervescent. The morning air met her like a co-conspirator, crisp and alive, as though it carried whispers of destiny in the wind.
Today, something was going to happen. She could feel it in her bones.
By the time she arrived at her cousin’s house, her anticipation had boiled over. She pushed open the doors without hesitation, sweeping inside with all the grandeur of a movie star making her entrance.
“Hello, Philippines! And hello, world! Mabuhay!” Her voice rang through the room, bright, melodic, utterly unselfconscious.
Heads snapped toward her. Conversations faltered. The sudden burst of energy left the room blinking, as though the sun itself had barged into their midst.
Lucy’s gaze swept the space eagerly. She saw her uncle first—Uncle Isma, his kind eyes always a comforting sight. He smiled warmly, clearly amused by her dramatic arrival.
But then—
She froze.
Her breath caught.
Her world tilted.
Because standing a few steps away was a man.
Not just a man. The man.
He was tall, his frame commanding but graceful, the kind that instantly drew every eye without him needing to move or speak. His presence radiated something sharp, magnetic, and untouchable all at once.
Almond-shaped eyes, thick brows, a straight, sculpted nose. Lips that looked both stern and sensual, framed by a faint shadow of stubble that added a dangerous edge to his refinement.
Lucy’s heart skipped, tumbled, then bolted into a sprint.
Oh. Oh no. Oh yes. It’s him.
It felt like the universe had reached into her chest, plucked out every half-serious prayer she’d ever made, and dropped the answer right here, wrapped in broad shoulders and a face carved by the gods.
“Lucrescia, you really do have ears for gossip,” Uncle Isma teased gently, breaking her trance.
She blinked, snapping back to herself, though her cheeks flushed pink. “Excuse me? Who’s Lucrescia?” She tilted her chin playfully. “My name’s Lucy, thank you very much.”
The elderly man beside her chuckled. “And who is this charming young lady?”
Lucy gave a small, almost reverent smile. “I’m Lucy, the one and only niece of Uncle Isma, cousin to Kelseay Jade.” She turned her attention squarely back to the stranger, her eyes twinkling. “And who, pray tell, is this handsome gentleman?”
“This is Leandro’s best friend,” Kelseay replied casually, sipping her water as though she hadn’t just detonated a bomb in Lucy’s chest.
Leandro’s best friend. The words echoed like a choir inside her head.
Lucy extended her hand with confidence she didn’t quite feel, her pulse racing. “Hi, I’m Lucy.”
The man’s gaze flicked to her hand, then to her face. His expression was cool, unreadable. His voice, when it came, was flat and firm.
“I’m not interested.”
The room seemed to hold its breath.
Lucy didn’t falter. Her lips curved into a sly grin, her confidence flaring like a flame against his coldness. “I’m single,” she said lightly, eyes never leaving his. And I’ve already chosen you.
Inside, her heart shouted the truth. She wouldn’t say aloud: This is him. The one I’ve been waiting for. My icing on the cupcake. My forever.
“Don’t fuss, Lucrescia,” Uncle Isma interrupted firmly, though his tone was amused. “Let’s focus on important matters first.”
Lucy pouted, but her gaze betrayed her, clinging to the stranger like iron to a magnet.
Every detail was sharper the longer she looked at the line of his jaw, the cool fire in his eyes, the faint twitch of irritation when he caught her staring.
“You know staring is rude, Lady,” he said suddenly, his voice edged but calm. “Don’t look at me like you’re going to eat me alive.”
Lucy’s grin only widened. Oh, I love that idea.
His frown deepened. But for the briefest flicker, she saw something he didn’t mean to show. A spark, a c***k in the wall he held so tightly.
“I don’t talk to crazy people,” he muttered, standing. “Leave me alone.”
Crazy? Maybe. But Lucy’s heart thumped wildly, and the thought burned bright inside her: Crazy or not, you’re mine. You just don’t know it yet.
He left the Balur with long, purposeful strides. Most women might have let him go, intimidated by the wall he built with his words.
But not Lucrescia Marie Cordova.
Not today. Not when fate itself had dropped him into her orbit.
She gathered her skirts, lifted her chin, and followed, her voice calling out like a playful challenge:
“Hey, Drakey! Wait for me! Don’t leave me behind!”
The words rang out, bold and impossible to ignore.
The world around them blurred with the chatter of relatives, the smell of food, the laughter from the other room, all of it fading into nothing.
There was only him.
And Lucy, unstoppable, relentless, fearless, chasing after the beginning of her story.
Her heart soared, pounding with certainty.
This is it. The start of something I will not let go of. Drakey, you’ll be mine.
- Writer
