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

CHAPTER 4

I stared at the folder on my desk like it just slapped me.

Draemon A. Velliar.

New investor. Officially listed. Signed. Sealed. Delivered.

He’s here.

“Hindi totoo ‘to…” I whispered, staring at the company bulletin. But there it was—his name under the heading “Welcome, Our Newest Partner.”

I half-laughed, half-panicked. “What are the odds? Sa dami-dami ng club sa city, sa dami ng posibleng investor... siya pa?”

Napakapit ako sa gilid ng mesa. My heart was racing, not the giddy kind, but the s**t-what-now kind.

Because here’s the thing—Draemon knows.

He knows I have a thing for Mr. Rivera.

He knows I made a panata.

Sinabi ko sa kanya nung gabi sa club. Hindi straight na "I love my boss," but something like, "There's someone... pero hindi ko siya puwedeng angkinin." He looked at me then like he understood too much.

And now he’s in the building. Wearing suits. Signing contracts. Walking into meetings like fate handpicked him to mess up my already messy heart.

Mabuti nalang at lunch break na. Makakain na nga lang dahil baka stress lang ako.

Pero all of the sudden, of all the odds, nakita ko pa talaga si Draemon sa may pantry.

I was pretending to sip coffee habang palihim na sinusundan siya ng mata. Draemon was talking to one of the board members, calm and collected as usual. Parang hindi man lang nagulat na magka-office kami ngayon.

Napalingon siya.

Crap. Eye contact. Nakita niya ako.

He smiled.

That smile.

Confident, warm, a little too knowing.

I immediately turned to my mug like may laman pa, kahit paubos na kanina pa. Nag-pray ako silently.

“Lord, kung puwede, huwag naman siyang lumapit—”

“Miss Miranda.”

Pakshet. Too late.

He walked up, hands in his pockets like he had all the time in the world.

“I’m starting to think fate really likes putting us together,” he said, casually leaning beside the counter.

“Or maybe,” I said, trying to stay composed, “you’re just stalking me.”

His eyes glinted. “You wound me. I thought we had a connection.”

“Don’t confuse alcohol and loud music with connection, Draemon.”

“But I remember you,” he said, voice low now, softer. “I remember what you said about him.”

My breath caught.

“I wasn’t thinking straight,” I muttered, turning away.

“You were,” he said. “You made a vow. Something about doing everything to make him yours...”

“Stop,” I snapped, voice barely above a whisper. “You weren’t supposed to remember that.”

“But I do.” He stepped closer. “And now I work with the man you’re in love with. Isn’t that... ironic?”

I clenched my fists. “Don’t use that against me.”

“I’m not the enemy, Pinky,” he said. “But maybe you need to ask yourself... why does someone like him still make you unsure? When someone like me—who knows your secret—makes you feel seen?”

I stared at him.

He smiled, slower this time. Not smug. Just... present.

“You don’t have to answer now,” Draemon whispered. “But I’ll be around. Watching. Learning. Maybe even... helping.”

Then he left. Just like that.

Leaving me staring at my cold coffee, heart pounding in my chest.

And for the first time...

I wasn't sure if my panata still pointed to the right man.

Well, here we are again. Dahil may new investor, marami na namang meeting na magaganap; and guess what, of course makahaharap ko palagi ang mokong na lalaking ‘yon.

Nasa loob ako ng conference room, again. I held my pen tighter than usual, pretending to take notes. Pero sa totoo lang, wala akong naiintindihan sa mga sinasabi ng mga taong ito. Sales, ad placement, digital shift—lahat tunog static lang. Ang focus ko, nasa bagong investor na nakaupo across the table. Si Draemon… again.

He looked unfairly good in his navy blue suit, legs crossed, chin resting on one hand while the other lazily tapped a silver pen on the table. Parang wala lang sa kanya ang buong meeting, pero alam mong kabisado niya ang lahat.

“Miss Miranda,” he suddenly said.

I blinked. “Yes?”

He smiled. That same smug, dangerous smile. “Could you clarify the marketing timeline Mr. Rivera mentioned earlier?”

I gulped. He knows I zoned out. Nakakainis.

“Ah, yes,” I said, straightening. “The timeline is tentatively set to launch in two phases: first week of Q3 for soft rollout, and full release by mid-Q4... depending on campaign performance.”

Mr. Rivera gave a slight nod. Approval. Check.

But Draemon? He was still watching me like I was the project itself.

“Very thorough,” he said. “I like someone who pays attention.”

I felt Mr. Rivera shift beside me. Just a little. Subtle. But I noticed.

I forced a smile and looked down at my notepad, willing the floor to swallow me.

Pagkatapos ng meeting, I was speed-walking back to my desk when I heard that low, teasing voice behind me.

“Miss Miranda, wait.”

I sighed, turned around. “Draemon, if you’re going to quiz me again, I’m charging you.”

He chuckled. “I wasn’t quizzing. I was complimenting. You’re sharp. Even when you’re pretending not to listen.”

I crossed my arms. “Well, not all of us get to stroll into meetings acting like we own the place.”

He stepped closer. “But some of us could. You, for example. You don’t belong behind a desk.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You belong beside power, not just fetching coffee for it.”

My jaw clenched. “Wow. You really don’t waste time with your flattery, huh?”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” he said simply. “I’ve seen women like you before—smart, passionate, stuck. And when they finally choose themselves? They burn.”

I should’ve walked away. I really should’ve. But my feet stayed planted.

“Let me guess,” I muttered. “You’re offering to be the match?”

He tilted his head. “Maybe. But only if the fire’s mutual.”

I gave him a tight smile. “I’m not looking to burn anyone. I have a panata. I meant it.”

He leaned in, eyes serious now. “I’m not asking you to break it. I’m just wondering... what if what you think is destiny is actually just fear?”

I looked away. Damn him. Damn that stupid knowing look.

He backed off, gave me space, but not before murmuring, “Just think about it, Pinky. Loyalty is noble. But freedom? That’s power.”

I went to my desk, stared blankly at my screen, Draemon’s words echoing.

“You don’t belong behind a desk.”

I liked my desk. I liked my boss.

But for the first time… I wasn’t sure if my panata was a promise, or a prison.

And worse… I wasn’t sure I wanted Draemon to stop talking.