TAINTED INNOCENCE

Chapter 20

Santiago Mansion – Garden Lounge, Late Afternoon

Tahimik ang paligid. Golden hour na. Yung klase ng hapon na halos kulay honey ang langit, habang ang araw ay paunti-unting lumulubog sa likod ng mga puno.

Bella sat alone sa ilalim ng pergola sa garden, nakasuot ng cream silk blouse at loose trousers. Her sketchpad rested on her lap, pero wala pa ring kahit anong guhit. Tulad ng mga nakaraang araw—blanko.

Mula sa veranda, may mga yabag. Suwabe. Confident.

And then she heard that familiar, lazy voice.

“Beautiful day to waste staring at nothing.”

She turned her head, heart sinking a little.

Marco Valencia.

Nakasuot ng navy linen shirt na bukas ang unang tatlong butones, at may hawak na baso ng chilled sangria. May kulay gold na bracelet sa kaliwang pulso niya—subtle, pero signature.

“Anong ginagawa mo dito?” tanong ni Bella, agad na defensive. “Wala si Daddy.”

“Alam ko,” sagot niya, umupo sa lounge chair opposite her without asking. “Si Tita Elena ang nagpatawag. Something about finalizing a foundation sponsorship. I passed by, and guess who I saw?”

Bella narrowed her eyes. “Don’t start, Marco.”

“I’m not starting anything,” he said smoothly. “I’m just… observing. Alam mo ba, you’re even more fascinating when you’re trying not to look fascinated?”

Bella rolled her eyes.

But Marco didn’t stop. He leaned forward slightly, placing his drink on the table between them.

“There’s a gala this Friday. SkyBar. Half fashion, half charity. Trisha’s attending. And your name? Still on the invite list.”

She raised a brow. “I’m not in the mood to mingle.”

“Exactly why you should.” He smirked. “You’re letting the world think you’re broken. You’re not. You’re just… misdirected.”

Bella stood, ready to walk away.

But Marco pulled something from his blazer pocket—a small black envelope. Sleek. Expensive.

He held it out to her.

“Come,” he said. “Dance a little. Drink. Smile. Maybe remind Manila why the Santiago girls always steal the spotlight.”

Bella didn’t take the envelope. “Why do you care so much?”

Marco smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Because watching you burn quietly is far less fun than watching you explode beautifully.”

She didn’t say anything. Just turned around and walked away.

But that night, she opened the envelope.

And stared at the invitation until past midnight.

SkyBar Rooftop – Friday Night

The Manila skyline glittered like a sea of fireflies. SkyBar was alive—glass walls, rooftop breeze, and elegant chaos. Laughter, camera flashes, clinking glasses.

Then Bella walked in.

Wearing black satin. Backless. Halter. Classy… but deadly.

Heads turned. Whispers stirred.

She was no longer the broken girl in hiding.

She was… unforgettable.

Marco spotted her from across the room. Nakausap niya ang ilang media personalities, PR reps, at event hosts, pero nang makita si Bella, lahat ng ingay sa paligid niya ay parang tumigil.

She walked toward him.

And for once, Marco didn’t speak first.

“So?” Bella asked, one brow arched. “Happy now?”

“Not yet,” Marco replied smoothly, eyes scanning her figure. “But we’re getting there.”

A Few Hours Later – Lounge Area

They weren’t technically dancing, pero nakaupo sila malapit sa DJ booth, halos magkadikit. Marco leaned back sa couch habang si Bella ay nakasandal sa armrest, playing with the rim of her wine glass.

“You’re not as bad as I thought,” she admitted.

Marco chuckled. “Try not to sound so surprised.”

“Well, you flirt like you breathe.”

“And you pretend not to like it like it’s your job.”

Their eyes locked.

Tension thickened.

“Kung wala kang pakialam sa ‘kin,” Bella whispered, “then bakit mo ako ininvite?”

Marco leaned closer. His breath tickled her ear. “Maybe I just like watching you pretend you’re over him.”

Bella pulled away. Slightly flushed. Heart racing.

He didn’t push. He just gave her that signature Valencia smirk.

“You’re not the same girl, Bella.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” she whispered back.

Later That Week – Café in BGC

Bella thought it was a casual lunch with a fellow designer. But Marco arrived instead—holding an iced Americano and two pain au chocolat.

“You’re late,” Bella muttered.

“You’re still here,” Marco countered, handing her the pastry. “So we’re even.”

Throughout the lunch, he asked about her art, her fashion projects, even her favorite painters.

He didn’t make a move.

Didn’t touch her.

But the way he looked at her—lingering, low, amused—made her feel exposed. Curious.

Dangerous.

“You keep inviting me to places,” she said finally. “What exactly are you trying to prove?”

Marco smiled, leaning forward.

“That you don’t need him… to feel seen.”

Valencia Tower – Early Evening

Dominic was pacing back and forth sa loob ng private office niya sa top floor ng Valencia Tower. His fists were clenched. His jaw tight. His eyes? Bloodshot sa puyat, sa inis, at sa sobrang selos na parang sumasakal sa dibdib niya.

Tatlong beses na niyang pinanood ang video.

Bella. Laughing. Leaning in to Marco.

Marco, with his signature smug smirk, whispering something sa tenga ni Bella habang nakapatong ang kamay sa sandalan ng upuan niya. Too close. Too damn close.

“She doesn’t even look uncomfortable,” Dominic muttered.

Jules was on the couch, trying to be the voice of reason. “Bro, maybe she just needed to—”

“Shut up,” Dominic snapped, eyes still on the paused screen of his phone. “This is not her. That’s not the Bella I know.”

“Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think,” Jules said quietly.

BOOM.

Tumama ang baso ng bourbon sa pader. Basag.

Dominic’s eyes flashed. “Where’s Marco?”

Jules stood slowly. “Dom, wag mong gawin ‘to.”

“Where. Is. He.”

“Don’t—”

Pero wala na. Lumabas na si Dominic ng office, galit ang lakad, parang may sunog na hinahabol. The entire staff of Valencia Tower parted ways as he stormed past. Wala nang makakapigil. Not even his own blood.

Private Gym – Lower Level

Marco was shirtless, freshly out of the shower, hair still wet, may towel sa leeg, hawak ang bottled water habang chill na nag-i-stretch. May konting music sa speaker. Mellow. Relaxed. Hindi niya alam na may paparating na bagyo.

BLAG!

Biglang bumukas ang pintuan.

Dominic.

Mukhang halimaw.

“Uy, bro—” Marco didn’t even finish.

BOGSH!

Isang solidong suntok ang tumama sa kaliwang panga niya, mabilis at walang babala. Tumilapon siya sa bench, nagbagsakan ang mga dumbbells.

“PUTANGINA!” Marco spat blood, grabbing his face. “Ano bang problema mo?!”

Dominic didn’t answer. He grabbed him by the collar and threw him back sa wall.

“’Wag. Na. Wag. Mong. Lalapitan si Bella,” Dominic growled, his voice deep and low like thunder before the storm.

“She’s not yours anymore!” Marco yelled back, shoving him. “You walked away, remember?!”

Another punch. This time sa tiyan. Napasubsob si Marco, nanginginig ang mga tuhod.

“You gave her that dress. You took her to that f*****g party.”

“So what if I did?!” sigaw ni Marco, habang dumudugo ang labi. “She said yes. She came with me. She laughed with me!”

“Because you manipulated her!”

“Oh please,” Marco sneered, wiping blood from his cheek. “You think you’re the only one who can make her feel seen?”

That was it.

BOGSH!

Muling umatake si Dominic—isang malutong na right hook na tumama sa cheekbone ni Marco. Nabitawan ni Marco ang bote ng tubig, tumalsik ito, nagkalat sa sahig.

Now both were panting.

Halos magkasabay silang huminto—dugo sa labi ni Marco, galit sa mata ni Dominic.

Marco leaned against the wall, catching his breath. “You know what’s funny, Dom?”

Dominic didn’t answer.

“She never once said your name that night. Not even once.”

Dominic’s fists shook.

“You lost her. And you know it.”

Dominic stepped forward, grabbed Marco by the collar again, but this time—he didn’t hit.

He just stared him dead in the eye. “I don’t care how many parties you take her to. I don’t care how close you sit beside her. I know her. I know what she sounds like when she’s happy. And that laugh? That wasn’t real.”

Marco smirked, lips bleeding. “But you weren’t there, were you?”

Dominic finally let go, breathing heavily.

“She’s mine,” he said, low and final. “And you? You’re just a poor imitation trying to fill a space you’ll never fit in.”

Silence.

Marco leaned his head back against the cold wall, staring at the ceiling.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have broken her in the first place.”

Dominic didn’t answer.

He just turned around—and walked out.

Leaving blood on the floor.

And a war still burning in both of them.

Dominic’s POV

Basang-basa ang T-shirt ko sa pawis. May dugo sa kamao ko—hindi ko alam kung galing sa sugat ko o kay Marco. Pero hindi ko na ’to iniisip. Hindi ko na rin naramdaman ang sakit ng mga galos ko.

Wala akong ibang iniisip kundi siya.

Bella.

Hindi ko na matiis. Hindi ko na kayang maghintay. Hindi ko na kayang manatiling tahimik habang ginagamit siya ni Marco. Habang lumalayo siya sa’kin. Habang tuluyan niya akong binubura sa mundo niya.

Kaya kahit alam kong bawal, kahit alam kong delikado—dumiretso ako sa bahay nila Bella.

Kahit wala akong invite.

Kahit siguradong galit sa’kin ang buong pamilya niya.

Pagdating ko sa gate ng mansion ng Santiago, hininto ko ang sasakyan sa harap. Tumalon ako palabas. Sinugod ko agad ang gate guard, walang pakialam kung may CCTV man o hindi.

“Sir, hindi po kayo pinapapasok dito. Utos ng—”

“Bella!” sigaw ko. “BELLA! LABAS KA!”

Lalabas na dapat yung guard para paalisin ako pero sumigaw ulit ako, mas malakas.

“BELLA! KAILANGAN KITANG MAKITA!”

May dumungaw sa bintana sa second floor. It was Bianca. Nagkatinginan kami. She froze. Then turned away. Ilang segundo lang—bumukas ang front door.

Dumiretso si Bella sa veranda, suot ang oversized shirt at pajama pants. Walang makeup. Gulo ang buhok. Pero sa mata ko, para siyang reyna pa rin.

“Dom… what are you doing here?”

“Please,” I breathed out, lalapit na sana ako pero sinalubong ako ng guard.

“Sir, bawal po kayong pumasok.”

“Bella,” I begged. “Pakiusap. Kausapin mo lang ako. Saglit lang. Please.”

Tumitig siya sa’kin mula sa taas. Tahimik. Pero sa mga mata niya… may bagyo.

Ilang segundo ang lumipas bago siya nagsalita ulit.

“Hayaan mo siyang makapasok.”

“Ma’am—”

“Please. Ako ang bahala.”

Nag-atubili ang guard, pero binuksan ang gate. Mabilis akong pumasok. Tumakbo ako hanggang sa garden, kung saan lumabas si Bella para salubungin ako.

“Dom…” she said again, softly this time.

“Bella,” nilapitan ko siya. “Hindi ko na kaya. Hindi ko kayang mawala ka. Kaya ko nasapak si Marco. Kasi ginagamit ka niya. Nilalapit ka niya sa sarili niya para asarin ako—”

“Alam ko.”

Natigilan ako.

“Alam ko ang ginagawa ni Marco,” she continued. “Hindi ako tanga, Dom.”

Huminga ako nang malalim. “Then why? Why let him near you?”

She looked at me with such calm fury, mas nakakatakot pa sa sigaw.

“Because I was tired of being your secret. Your prize. Your weakness.”

I blinked. “That’s not fair—”

“Hindi?” Napakagat siya ng labi. “Nung iniwan mo ako sa Batangas, walang kahit anong message. Nung pinauwi ako, wala kang sinabing kahit ano. Kahit isang ‘I’m sorry.’ Isang ‘I’m fighting for you.’ Isang ‘Don’t go.’”

“Akala ko—”

“You thought I’d wait,” she cut in. “You thought you could disappear and come back and I’d still be here, waiting, open arms, ready to fall apart for you again.”

“Bella—”

“I’m not your toy, Dom.”

I stopped. Parang may sumampal sa dibdib ko.

“Hindi ako laruan na pwedeng saktan, iwan, at balikan kapag ready ka na ulit.”

She stepped closer, voice trembling but strong.

“You punched your own brother dahil nagseselos ka. Pero sa totoo lang, you lost me long before that.”

“No,” bulong ko. “Please don’t say that…”

“Gusto mo akong angkinin, pero hindi mo ako kayang ipaglaban. Hindi mo kayang tumayo sa harap ng buong mundo at sabihing ako ang mahal mo.”

“I do—”

“Pero huli na, Dom.”

Tahimik.

Tumingin siya sa’kin, at sa unang pagkakataon… parang wala na talaga akong nakitang pag-asa sa mga mata niya.

“I loved you,” she whispered. “With everything I had. But I’m done being someone’s collateral damage. Done being someone’s secret. Someone’s shame. Someone’s game.”

“I’m not playing with you,” I said, desperate.

“Then prove it,” she challenged, tears in her eyes. “Pero huwag ngayon. Hindi ko na kayang masaktan ulit.”

She took a step back. Isa pa.

At isa pa.

“Umalis ka na, Dom. Bago pa ako muling bumigay.”

“Bella…”

Pero hindi na siya sumagot. Pumasok siya sa loob ng bahay, marahan pero diretso.

Sinara niya ang pinto.

At naiwan akong nakatayo sa garden nila, mag-isa.

Nanginginig.

Basang-basa sa ulan na wala naman.

Ulan ng mga salitang hindi ko nasabi.

At sakit na ako rin ang may gawa.

Two days after Dominic’s confrontation

Tahimik ang buong bahay, pero sa loob ng kwarto ko, mas tahimik pa. Wala na akong lakas umiyak. Ilang gabi na akong hindi makatulog ng maayos. Laging nauuwi sa parehong tanong:

Paano naging ganito ang lahat?

Hawak ko ang lumang photo namin ni Mama—yung nakangiti siya habang hawak ang kamay ko sa isang event ng fashion week, back when I thought my mom was invincible. Back when I thought love was supposed to be simple.

Napapikit ako. Huminga ng malalim.

Kailangan ko na siyang kausapin.

Pagbaba ko sa Dining Room nandito si Mama, tahimik na nagkakape habang may binabasa sa tablet niya. Naka-white silk robe pa siya, at kahit bagong gising, elegante pa rin siyang tingnan. For a second, naisip kong baka hindi ito tama. Baka dapat wag ko na siyang guluhin.

Pero kailangan ko na.

"Mama," I said softly.

Tumingin siya sa’kin, eyebrows raised. “Yes, anak?”

Umupo ako sa harap niya. “I need to go.”

Napakunot ang noo niya. “Go where?”

“Somewhere far,” I whispered. “Kahit saglit lang. Kailangan ko lang lumayo. Mag-isa. Magpahinga.”

Sinantabi niya ang tablet. “This is about Dominic, isn’t it?”

Tumango ako. “Partly. Pero hindi lang siya, Mama. It’s everything. Papa. Marco. Lahat ng nangyari. Hindi ko na kilala ang sarili ko.”

Her gaze softened. “You’re not running away, right?”

“I’m not. I just... need to breathe. I want to find peace. I need to remember who I was before him—before all of this.”

Tahimik kami pareho.

Then I spoke again. “Alam ko may rest house tayo sa Cebu. Yung nasa cliff, overlooking the sea. Wala masyadong tao. Wala masyadong tanong.”

Napatingin siya sa’kin, and this time, hindi na siya businesswoman. Hindi na siya matapang. She was just a mom, looking at her broken daughter.

“Gusto mo doon?” she asked softly.

“Yes. Please, Mama. Hindi ko na kaya dito. Every room, every corner... it reminds me of him. Of them. I just want to heal.”

Hinawakan niya ang kamay ko. Mainit. Mahigpit.

“Okay,” she said, finally. “Pero one condition.”

“What is it?”

“No phones. No social media. And don’t talk to anyone you don’t trust. I’ll arrange the travel, pero hindi ko sasabihin kahit kanino. Not even your father.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. “Thank you, Mama. Thank you.”

She nodded, then stood up and kissed the top of my head. “Take the time you need. But come back whole, anak.”

Three days later, early morning, nasa loob na ako ng black SUV habang hinihintay ang hudyat na pwede na akong sumakay sa private plane papuntang Cebu. Simple lang ang suot ko—plain blouse, light jeans, white sneakers. No makeup. No perfume. No luxury.

Just me.

And a bag full of pieces I was trying to put back together.

Habang lumilipad ang eroplano pa-Cebu, dumungaw ako sa bintana. The city grew smaller and smaller, hanggang sa naging alikabok na lang ang mga building, mga ingay, mga tao.

Kasama na roon ang isang lalaking minahal ko nang buong-buo.

CEBU – BEACH HOUSE, TWO DAYS LATER

Naka-upo ako sa terrace ng bahay habang pinapanood ang pag-ikot ng alon. May tahimik na background music mula sa lumang speaker sa loob. May hawak akong journal sa isang kamay at mug ng salabat sa kabila.

Tulad ng bilin ni Mama, walang nakakaalam.

Wala si Papa. Wala si Bianca. Lalo na wala si Dominic.

Dito sa lugar na ‘to, wala kaming kasaysayan.

Walang alaala ng mga halik, ng pag-iyak, ng sumbat o sabunutan ng emosyon.

Ako lang.

Ang tunog ng hangin. Ang sarili kong heartbeat.

At ang dahan-dahan kong paghilom.

Kinabukasan, maaga akong nagising. Gaya ng mga nakaraang araw, tinanaw ko muna ang dagat mula sa balcony ng beach house. Walang ingay. Walang pressure. Walang nagbabantay. Parang for the first time in years—wala akong kailangang i-prove kahit kanino.

Pero kahit gaano katahimik ang paligid, ang isip ko… gulo pa rin.

Every corner of this place is beautiful—pero sa salamin, nakikita ko pa rin si Bella Santiago. The girl who cried over the wrong man. The girl who was pulled left and right by people who claimed they loved her.

Hindi na siya ang gusto kong makita.

Lumabas ako ng bahay at gumala sa town proper, pumasok ako sa isang maliit na salon. Walang aircon, just electric fans and a strong scent of shampoo in the air. Walang may kilala sa’kin. Wala ring masyadong pakialam ang mga tao dito.

Perfect.

“Long layers lang po, Ma’am?” tanong ng hairstylist habang nilalaro ang mahaba kong buhok.

Umiling ako.

“Putulin mo.”

“Po?”

“Short bob. Above the shoulder. Gusto ko magaan. Gusto ko… bago.”

Nagkatinginan ang mga tao sa paligid. Pero wala akong pakialam.

"Sure ka po ba, Ma’am? Sayang—ang haba ng hair n’yo, ang ganda pa."

Ngumiti lang ako, mahinang ngiti. “Kailangan ko ‘to.”

After my haircut, napakagat-labi ako nang makita ang sarili ko sa salamin. Gone was the girl with flowing, elegant waves.

Now, I had a sharp, chin-length bob. Clean. Confident. A little wild.

Parang ako… pero ibang ako.

Nag-thank you ako sa staff, then tumuloy sa maliit na boutique sa tabi ng salon.

Nag-try ako ng ilang outfits. Wala na yung dating Bella na puro lace, pastels, or designer labels na pinili ni Mama para sa corporate world. Wala na rin yung version na gusto ni Dominic—yung nakabackless, body-hugging, laging tempting.

Ngayon, I chose me.

Loose white button-up shirt, tucked into high-waisted denim shorts. A pair of canvas sneakers. And sunglasses na simple pero may shape. Hindi para magtago—pero para mag-filter ng mundo.

Paglabas ko ng boutique, hindi na ako naglakad na parang Bella Santiago, daughter of a tycoon.

I walked like Bella. Just Bella.

Later that night sa Beach house, nasa harap ako ng salamin, pinagmamasdan ang sarili kong version 2.0. My hair was shorter. My eyes looked calmer. Mas defined ang collarbone ko, kasi bumagsak talaga ako ng timbang, but somehow… mas malakas akong tingnan.

Nag-selfie ako. Wala akong balak i-post. Wala rin akong balak ipadala kahit kanino.

Pero gusto kong maalala kung sino ako ngayong gabi.

JOURNAL ENTRY – WRITTEN BY BELLA

“Dear Self,

You’ve cried. You’ve begged. You’ve lost more than what people will ever know.

Pero ngayon… you cut your hair. You changed your skin.

And tomorrow, you’ll start living again. Even if no one claps. Even if no one notices.

Because this time, it’s not for them. It’s for you.”