Chapter 3
1129 Words
Three Months Before the Wedding
A few days after graduation, Bianca returned to the Rogadona mansion brimming with excitement. She was finally home—and more importantly, ready to begin her journey at the family company, FLANTEE. Ever since her summer internship there, Bianca had dreamed of being part of the business. Though she was a Rogadona by blood, FLANTEE had always felt sacred to her, a legacy her grandfather had poured his life into building. She had watched it grow, brick by brick, memory by memory.
Sadly, her father, Tyoid Rogadona, didn’t share that same vision. Unlike her grandparents, he had little to no involvement with FLANTEE. In fact, the only person who seemed to run the company these days was Lockthan Emerge—her father’s childhood friend and FLANTEE’s long-standing CFO.
Bianca had known Uncle Lockthan all her life. Thanksgiving dinners were always at his place. He was like family, and while she respected his leadership, it bothered her how much power he wielded. It didn’t sit right with her. Her grandfather built FLANTEE with his bare hands—why should it be run by someone outside the bloodline?
That was exactly why she had studied Business Management and Marketing at one of the best schools in the country. She intended to take her rightful place and preserve her family’s legacy.
What Bianca never expected, not in a million years, was that her father had a very different plan for her.
That evening, over dinner, he dropped a bombshell.
“You’re to marry Lucas Deranto,” he said casually, as if announcing the weather.
Bianca blinked, stunned. Then she laughed—loudly. “You can’t be serious. I’d rather walk on fire,” she said, half-laughing still. “What about FLANTEE?”
“You don’t need to work at the company,” her father replied, barely looking up from his plate. “It’ll be passed down to you and your husband anyway. Why work when you can have others work for you and make your money?”
Bianca was speechless. She stared at him in disbelief. He kept eating as if nothing monumental had been said.
Too furious to eat, she stood and left the table. She didn’t come out of her room until the next morning.
On Monday, she dressed in a sharp two-piece suit, ready to fight for what she believed in. At breakfast, she was relieved to find the dining room empty. After eating quickly, she headed straight to FLANTEE.
She had a plan—and she intended to present it to Uncle Lockthan.
When she arrived at the company’s headquarters, she walked directly to the receptionist. “I need to see Mr. Lockthan Emerge.”
To her surprise, Cassandra, Lockthan’s secretary, smiled. “He’s been expecting you.”
Bianca frowned. Expecting me? I didn’t even say I was coming.
Still puzzled, she walked toward Lockthan’s office and knocked.
“Come in,” he called.
She opened the door—and froze.
Lockthan was standing by the entrance, smiling warmly. “Welcome, Bianca. We’ve been waiting for you.”
As he stepped aside, Bianca saw two unfamiliar men sitting across the room. And then—her father.
Tyoid Rogadona was seated comfortably, a satisfied grin on his face, like he’d just won a bet.
“Come in, come in,” Lockthan repeated, ushering her inside.
“Bianca, my beautiful daughter,” her father chimed in, unusually pleasant. Something felt off. It wasn’t just the sudden charm—it was the calculating smile behind it.
Lockthan gestured toward the strangers. “Allow me to introduce you. This is Don Christiano Deranto, CEO of LISTBUI—one of the biggest oil and gas firms in the country. And this,” he added, “is his son, Lucas Deranto.”
Lucas stared at her intensely, and Bianca instantly felt the pressure of too many eyes, too many secrets.
Lockthan motioned for her to sit. “You’re probably wondering what this is about.”
Bianca nodded slowly.
“Well,” he continued, “FLANTEE has been experiencing severe financial difficulties over the past three years. We’re on the verge of downsizing—possibly laying people off. Your father and I have been searching for solutions.”
Bianca barely suppressed a scoff. Her father? Trying to save the company? That was hard to believe. All he ever cared about was whether he had enough money to fund his gambling addiction.
Still, the news about FLANTEE shook her. Could things really be that bad?
She opened her mouth to present the business plan she had prepared—two years’ worth of strategy—but Lockthan cut her off.
“This is where you come in,” he said. “Bianca, without your help, we may have no choice but to sell FLANTEE.”
Her heart dropped. “Sell?” she echoed, stunned. “Sell the company?”
She turned to her father, who refused to meet her gaze.
“Dad… is this true?”
Before he could answer, Lockthan jumped in. “You remember Don Christiano, right?”
Bianca snapped her focus back to the guests. She had almost forgotten they were in the room.
“Of course,” she said stiffly.
“Don Christiano has offered to partner with us on a new solar energy project—one that will bring in massive revenue and new opportunities. LISTBUI will front 80% of the investment.”
Bianca narrowed her eyes. “But why would LISTBUI want to partner with FLANTEE? You’re doing well on your own. Your sales are up, your shares are soaring. You have nothing to gain.”
Don Christiano chuckled. “She’s sharp,” he said, glancing at her father. “I like her already. She’ll be a great asset.”
Bianca stared in confusion. What’s going on?
Her father cleared his throat. “Bianca darling, Don here is my childhood friend. His father and mine were partners once. We made a pact as boys—to always help each other in times of need.”
He smiled as if telling a sweet bedtime story.
“And now,” he continued, “we’d like to keep that legacy going. We want our families to become one. Which is why... we’re proposing that you and Lucas get married.”
The room blurred. Bianca could see her father’s mouth moving, but she heard nothing. The word marriage echoed in her mind like a bad dream.
Suddenly, the three men were laughing. At what, she didn’t know.
She heard her name.
“Bianca?” Lockthan prompted. “So… what do you think?”
Bianca blinked. “Sorry, I... I zoned out. Did you just say marriage?”
She laughed, but the sound was nervous, forced. The room fell silent.
- Writer
