Chapter 12: Loyalty and Leverage
470 Words
Ramon Cordero wasn’t the kind of man who asked permission.
By sunrise, he already had a file open on his laptop, filled with names, photos, and numbers. All related to one person: Tredy Sales.
“Let’s see what you’re hiding, kid.”
He traced Tredy's mother: Gloce Sales.
Domestic helper. Overseas for years.
One emergency hospital bill away from bankruptcy.
He found Tredy’s previous employers. Netzone Café. A failed computer repair gig. An unpaid tuition notice.
But one line made him pause.
> “Don Emerico Sales – documented as deceased. Assets reactivated under grandson, Tredy Sales.”
Ramon raised an eyebrow.
“Oh. So that’s how deep this goes.”
He smiled.
> “Everyone has a weakness. You? You're still protecting people.”
---
Meanwhile, in an old street market in West Gran Santiago, Leira was on her own mission.
She waited outside a small sari-sari store, clutching a photo — an old, faded class picture. One name was circled in red.
A woman in her late thirties stepped out.
Mylene, Tredy’s former neighbor.
“You knew him when he was a kid, right?” Leira asked.
Mylene squinted. “Tredy? That quiet boy who used to give free tech help in exchange for canned goods?”
“That’s him.”
Mylene laughed. “He was smarter than all the adults combined. Helped me unlock my old tablet just so I could sell it.”
Leira smiled faintly.
“But he never liked help,” Mylene added. “Even when his mother got sick… he kept it all in.”
Leira looked up. “He had no one?”
“Not true,” Mylene said. “He had Kuya Domeng.”
“Who’s that?”
“The old caretaker at the abandoned church. Tredy used to sleep there sometimes when he didn’t want his mom to worry.”
---
That same evening, in a quiet, crumbling chapel on the city’s edge…
Tredy stood in front of a rusted gate.
He hadn’t been here in years.
A man stepped out from the shadows — white beard, one blind eye, still strong in posture.
Domeng.
“Tredy.”
“I heard you were still alive,” Tredy said.
Domeng grinned. “You think I’d die before I see you rise?”
They sat on a cracked bench.
“I heard a shadow’s looking for you,” Domeng said. “Old name. Ramon Cordero.”
Tredy’s jaw clenched. “I was hoping it wouldn’t get to that.”
“Kid,” Domeng said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re playing with kings now. Protect your queen.”
Tredy stood. “I’m ready.”
Domeng stared at him. “No, you’re not. Not until you decide who you're willing to sacrifice… and who you're not.”
---
© Treloce Amaris
- Writer
