THE SILENT BILLIONAIRE

CHAPTER 11: THE LION'S GAME

"Checkmate in the Shadows"

Ang lobby ng CASA LAZARO ay parang arena ng silent predators. Tahimik, pero bawat mata’y nakatutok sa bawat galaw—walang musika, walang ingay kundi ang ambient hum ng chandeliers at metallic click ng high heels sa marble floor. Si Jance, naka-deep charcoal suit, suot ang confident na aura ng bagong-learned mastery, ay nakatayo sa tabi ni Hanna, parang bayani sa pelikula na hindi kailanman nagtataka sa kanyang sariling kakayahan.

Dorothy Abad, parang reyna na nakakalat sa mismong throne room, ay nag-scroll sa mata ng mga guests, hanap ang imperfection, anumang maliit na pagkukulang na puwede niyang gawing armas. Banjo, tense, pilit na nakangiti habang sinusubaybayan ang bawat micro-expression ni Jance—handang i-expose ang tinihid na kahinaan. Bonifacio, parang silent wolf, hawak ang baso ng red wine, calculating at walang pakialam sa flashing smiles ng ibang guests.

Hanna, steady ang hawak sa braso ni Jance, nagbigay ng maliit na squeeze—silent encouragement, “Relax. You’re not just attending… you’re playing.”

“Ang tagal na naming naghihintay sa ganitong pagkakataon,” bulong ni Jance sa sarili, boses halos hindi marinig. “Ngunit hindi ako natatakot. Ang mundo nila… predictable.”

Paglapit sa table ng Abads, Dorothy agad na nagbukas ng offensive, parang pumasok sa chessboard na handa nang mag-open sa Queen’s Gambit.

“Jance… ang ganda mo naman na nakaporma. Alam mo, sa dating… hindi ka ganyan. Siguro… mahirap sa commute?” wika ni Dorothy, half-sweet, half-venom.

Si Hanna, parang steel blade sa lamig ng kanyang eyes, sumagot: “We don’t need your assumptions, Tita Dorothy. Jance can handle himself perfectly fine.”

Banjo, naalala ang garage confrontation, pilit nag-smile, “Oo nga, ‘te. Parang… medyo overqualified na yata siya sa restaurant-level society.”

Ang tension sa mesa, palpable. Para bang bawat cutlery at wine glass ay nakikinig sa silent war.

Ngunit si Jance, calm, parang pond na walang ripple, tumayo sa gitna ng table. Pinindot niya ang napkin sa kamay, deep breath, at humarap kay Dorothy.

“Ma’am Dorothy,” mahinahong boses, deliberate na hindi masyadong malakas, “alam kong iniisip niyo na wala akong lugar dito. Pero ang mundo… hindi lang kayong nagmamay-ari. Ang value ng tao… hindi nakabase sa pedigree o sa wallet. May mga tao ring silent… pero malakas.”

Parang nakulog ang panga ni Dorothy, at Banjo, halos mapahinto sa pagpikit, hindi makapaniwala sa confidence ni Jance.

Biglang, Lazaro Chan, malaking presence sa lobby, lumapit. Naka-tailored suit, commanding aura—billionaire Pares King, exuding silent dominance. Ang recognition sa mukha niya kay Jance, halatang sorpresa na may halo ng respeto.

“Jance Sebastian?” tanong ni Lazaro, voice calm pero authority-filled.

Si Jance, steady, extended hand: “Yes. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Chan.”

Shaking hands, parang magnetic energy ang pumasa sa palad nila—silent understanding na may future collaborations na nakataya.

Dorothy, naisip na nagkamali, tumitig. Banjo, bibig nakabuka, parang gusto nang sumigaw. Bonifacio, hawak pa rin ang baso, silent evaluation mode.

“Sir Don Rico,” bulong ni Jance, pausal sa haplos ng tension, “ang invitation ninyo… isang malaking step. But also… isang responsibility. I understand.”

Don Rico Alcoveza, standing tall sa head of the table, slight smile, satisfied at approach ni Jance. “I knew you’d come. Not just physically… but mentally. That’s what matters.”

Dinner progressed, wine flowed, soft chatter ng high society—pero sa utak ni Jance, bawat transaction, bawat glance, bawat micro-expression ng Abads ay tiningnan at sinuri. Hindi lang siya nakinig sa dialogue; iniintindi niya ang silent strategy ng bawat tao sa mesa.

Ang appetizer—lobster bisque—inalok sa kanya ni Dorothy, subtle attempt to showcase superiority. Tumango si Jance, but calmly diverted attention, leaving Dorothy frustrated at minor failure.

Main course, miso-glazed salmon, platito ng perfection, delivered by waitstaff na parang trained soldiers. Jance, methodical, observed the entire setup: seating arrangement, spacing, hierarchy, interactions. Ang mata niya… hawak ang silent map ng power dynamics ng pamilya Abad.

Banjo, desperate to provoke, attempted a micro-aggression. “I heard you’re sending money to… who’s it again? Lazaro? From your… trading?”

Si Jance, walang pagbabago sa expression, slight smile: “Oo, Banjo. Some people are underappreciated. I help them. Silent, strategic. You should try helping someone… not just yourself.”

Banjo, speechless, parang nakulong sa kanyang sariling ego.

At dito, Don Rico, observing, subtle nod. Ang strategy ni Jance—Taglish, 90/10, deliberate mix of humility, confidence, and tactical silence—parang chess game sa dining room.

After dessert—dark chocolate fondant, rich—but Jance hardly touched, focused sa silent assessment, Lazaro leaned slightly, whispered: “The Abads… powerful. But predictable.”

Jance, slight grin: “Exactly. Predictable. Which makes them vulnerable.”

Dorothy, finally realizing, tried to reclaim dominance: “Hanna, are you sure you know how to manage this young man? He’s… well… unusual.”

Hanna, steady, eyes like blade, replied: “Unusual, yes. But capable. And yes, we know how to handle him. Better than you think.”

Dinner ended, applause polite, guests mingled. Pero sa utak ni Jance… mapa sa dining room, personalities mapped, triggers identified, pathways planned. Silent army in preparation.

As they exited, Don Rico whispered: “Tonight… you’ve learned the table, Jance. Not just the food, not just the event. But the players. And the shadows they hide in. Remember—opportunity favors those who see before others.”

Jance nodded, silent acknowledgment. Sa labas, BGC lights reflected sa kanyang charcoal suit—shadows at light intertwined. Ang storm na paparating sa Abads, unseen by them, controlled na partially sa kamay ni Jance.

At sa sandaling iyon, isang text sa encrypted phone:

“The chessboard is set. Next move is yours. Be ready. —Master Alex”

Ngiti ni Jance, maliit pero significant. Alam niya—the game had truly begun.