ANG SUPER TIGANG KONG BOSS [THAT MANYAKIS CEO SERIES 2] SPG 🔞

CHAPTER 10

Bago ang lahat ng kaguluhan sa gala, bago pa man ako nagsuot ng gown at heels at ngumiti sa mga taong hindi ko naman close, may gabing muntik na akong sumabog.

That night, nakaupo ako sa lamesa namin habang ang nanay ko ay nag-aayos ng mga tuyong bulaklak sa altar namin. Tahimik. Ilang araw na akong balisa. Laging tulala. Laging ‘di mapakali.

“Pinky,” tawag ni Mama. “Anong iniisip mo? Parang ang bigat ng mundo sa balikat mo.”

Huminga ako nang malalim. Then finally, I blurted out, “Ma… ang hirap pala. Ang hirap ng panata.”

Napalingon siya. “Anong panata ang tinutukoy mo, anak?”

I bit my lip. Tumulo ang isang luha, but I wiped it quickly. “’Yung panata ko, Ma. Na magustuhan ko lang talaga ang isang tao sa buhay ko, and I’ll do everything to make them mine. Kasi ‘yon ang tradisyon natin, ‘di ba?”

Tumango siya, approaching me with a soft expression. “Oo, Pinky. But what’s making it hard?”

I looked at her, helpless. “Because the man I want… may iba na. May fiancé siya. Pero gusto ko pa rin siya, Ma. At every time na sinusubukan kong layuan siya, parang lalo lang akong nahuhulog. Tapos ngayon… may dumating na bago. Si Draemon. Mabait siya, may malasakit, and… he makes me feel seen. Pero Ma… hindi siya ‘yung pinanata ko.”

Umupo si Mama sa tabi ko, hinawakan ang kamay ko.

“Anak,” panimula niya, “Ang panata ay hindi lang basta pangako. Isa ‘yang paalala ng puso mo kung ano ang tunay mong gusto. Pero hindi ibig sabihin noon ay kailangan mong saktan ang sarili mo. Tradisyon nga natin ang manindigan sa isang tao… pero hindi ibig sabihin nun na ikakadena mo ang sarili mo sa taong hindi para sa’yo.”

Nanahimik ako. “Pero Ma… paano kung siya pa rin talaga ang gusto ko? Kahit na masakit?”

She sighed, brushing my hair back gently. “Then, kailangan mo talagang tanungin ang sarili mo. Mahalaga ba ang panata kung hindi ka naman masaya? At kung meron nang ibang taong handang alagaan ka, tanggapin ka, ipaglaban ka… hindi mo ba ‘yon karapat-dapat pag-isipan?”

I blinked back the tears. “So... hindi kasalanan kung… kung mahalin ko rin si Draemon?”

“Huwag mong isipin ang kasalanan, anak. Isipin mo kung saan ka magiging totoo sa sarili mo. Sometimes, the heart changes. And that’s not weakness. That’s growth.”

I buried my face in her shoulder, finally allowing myself to cry.

“Sana lang, Ma…” I whispered, “sana lang maintindihan din ng puso ko na ‘di lahat ng gusto natin, sa atin.”

She rubbed my back gently. “Kaya bukas, bago ka pumunta sa gala… magdasal ka. Hindi para hingin kung sino ang para sa’yo, kundi para malinawan ka kung sino ang karapat-dapat sa panata mo.”

That night, I slept with her words echoing in my head.

And for the first time in a long time, I let myself consider:

What if the promise I made with my heart… wasn’t about choosing the man I wanted—but the one who truly chose me?

Iba talaga ‘yung pakiramdam kapag naka-gown ka, full glam, at nakatayo ka sa harap ng malaking salamin sa restroom ng isang mamahaling hotel kung saan ginaganap ang gala ng Rivera Publication. Hindi ko alam kung dahil ba sa gown ko na makintab na pula, o dahil ba pareho silang naroroon—si Mr. Ismael Rivera, ang panata ng puso ko, at si Draemon, ang lalaking unti-unti kong hindi maalis sa isipan.

“Pinky!” tawag ni Draemon habang papasok ako sa hall. Nakangiti siya, suot ang navy blue tuxedo na parang pinasadya para sa kanya. Gwapong-gwapo. Nakakabaliw.

“Hi,” sabi ko, trying to stay composed kahit ang dibdib ko parang binabayo ng kabayo.

“You look absolutely ravishing,” bulong niya habang inaalok ang kanyang braso.

“Char,” sabi ko, rolling my eyes playfully. “Mamaya ka na magsimulang mangbola. May trabaho tayong tatapusin.”

“That’s true,” aniya, sabay kindat. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate my partner.”

Partner. Sh*t. That word hit me differently. Sa project naming dalawa—ang bagong diversified content model na may events, branded content, at memberships—kami ang leads. Almost every day, we’d meet, brainstorm, even argue over small details. Pero he always made sure to listen. He always asked how I was, brought coffee when I looked stressed, and once, nagdala pa ng champorado when I had cramps.

Napalingon ako sa gitna ng hall. At nandoon siya. Si Mr. Ismael. Nakaupo sa presidential table, in dark gray suit, looking like a literal CEO of heartbreaks.

Nagtama ang paningin namin. He nodded. I nodded. Walang words. Pero may tension—'yung tipo ng titigan na may kasamang tanong: “Bakit ngayon ka pa nagiging maganda?”

“Hey,” sabi ni Draemon, gently pulling me closer. “You okay?”

I blinked. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m good.”

Then I walked ahead para batiin ang iba pang mga guest.

“Ma’am Pinky, you're glowing tonight,” bati ng isa sa mga interns habang tinutulungan akong ayusin ang slit ng deep red gown ko.

“Pakisabi ‘yan kay Mr. Rivera,” sabay kindat ko. “Para malaman niyang hindi lang si Callie ang marunong magpa-wow.”

I laughed a little at my own joke, pero deep down, may halo talagang kaba sa dibdib ko. Hindi dahil sa press na nandoon. Hindi dahil sa event. Kundi dahil sa naroon siya. Mr. Ismael Rivera—my boss, my secret obsession, my panata.

Ilang minuto pa ang lumipas ay pinapunta na ako ng mga moderators sa may ballroom.

At ayun nga siya.

Pagdating ko sa ballroom, naunang tumama ang tingin ko sa table ng board of directors. Doon siya. Nakaupo sa tabi ni Callie, looking clean and collected in a black suit. The light caught his sharp jawline and that stubborn cowlick in his hair. The same one I always wanted to brush down with my fingers.

Naramdaman ko ang lakas ng pintig ng puso ko. Tangina, Pinky. Bawal. Hindi dapat.

“Pinky!” Draemon’s voice pulled me back. “You ready?”

He looked so effortlessly elegant in his tux. Calm, confident. He offered his arm, and I took it. Kahit sa loob-loob ko, may ibang gusto kong hawakan.

Kami ni Draemon ang magpe-present ng bagong digital strategy—branding, native advertising, at exclusive content model na pinondohan ng investors. We nailed it. Even the executives stood and clapped. Draemon leaned in and whispered, “They’re not clapping for me. They’re clapping for you.”

I smiled, but my eyes drifted again. Mr. Rivera was watching. Nakasandal lang siya, arms crossed. Callie, meanwhile, looked less amused. Nang ibaba niya ang kamay ni Mr. Rivera sa mesa at ipulupot ang sarili sa braso nito, doon ko naramdamang hindi na siya galit—na-threaten siya.

After the presentation, while most were mingling and taking photos, I headed toward the open bar. Kumuha ako ng wine at nagsimulang umikot-ikot sa gilid. I needed air.

Then I felt someone behind me.

“You always surprise me,” came that familiar, low voice.

Napalingon ako. Si Mr. Ismael.

“Sir,” sabi ko, medyo conscious bigla. “Akala ko po kasama n’yo si Ma’am Callie.”

“She’s busy talking to the COO,” he said, eyes never leaving mine. “Ikaw ang hinahanap ko.”

Putek.

“Talaga lang, sir?” I teased, trying to keep it light. “Baka may sasabihin lang kayong work-related.”

“Actually, wala. I just wanted to say… you were incredible tonight. Composed. Confident. And stunning.”

Biglang lumambot ang tuhod ko. “Ah ganon? Wow, napaka-rare po ng compliment na ‘yan from you, sir.”

He smiled slightly, sipping his whiskey. “Well, you deserve more than you get.”

A pause. Then, “Pinky…”

“Yes, sir?”

“You said last time, when you burst out in my office, that you had a panata?”

Napakunot ang noo ko. “Po?”

“Nothing. Just… I’ve been thinking lately about what it means to want something so bad that you’d do anything for it.”

Para akong binuhusan ng malamig na tubig. Naalala ko ang altar. Ang kandila. Ang pangakong binitawan ko habang umiiyak.

“I guess we all have something—or someone—we're willing to fight for,” I said quietly.

Before he could respond, Callie arrived.

“Ismael,” she said sharply, ignoring me. “You’ve been gone a while.”

Mr. Rivera turned to her. “Just congratulating Pinky.”

“Right,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “She did… okay.”

Then she looked at me like I was trash wrapped in silk.

“I hope you’re not mistaking your boss’ kindness for anything else, Pinky,” she added, voice icy. “He’s not yours to admire.”

“Callie,” Mr. Rivera warned, but I just smiled.

“No worries po, Ma’am,” I said, stepping closer to her, my voice sweet. “Wala po akong intensyong magustuhan siya. Hindi ko kontrolado ‘yun.”

Then I looked at Mr. Rivera straight in the eye. “But sometimes, kahit ayaw mo, puso mo na ang pumipili.”

I turned and left before either of them could speak. The heels clicking against the ballroom floor were the only sound I heard.

Sa labas ng hall, pinikit ko ang mga mata ko. I tried to breathe.

Then a coat was gently placed over my shoulders.

It was him. Mr. Rivera. AGAIN.

“You didn’t deserve that,” he said softly.

“I’ve been called worse.”

“You deserve better than to be a secret.”

I blinked. “Anong ibig mong—”

But before I could finish, he stepped closer, only inches between us. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I wish I met you first,” he whispered.

I looked away, my heart beating erratically. “But you didn’t.”

“I know.”

Tahimik kami pareho. Then, he said, “One dance?”

“Sir?”

“One dance. No strings. Just… this moment.”

And under the soft yellow lights of the balcony, while the rest of the party continued inside, he held me. No cameras. No pressure. Just a slow, painful, beautiful dance I knew I’d remember forever.