Collision of Hearts

Chapter 10

“Kung gusto mong mabuhay, kailangan mong matutong sumayaw sa lason.”

That’s what Damon told me the night before we decided to fake it.

A breakup.

A betrayal.

A carefully orchestrated detonation to draw out the rats crawling within the villa — and the entire Monteverde empire.

Pero habang nakatayo ako ngayon sa harap ng dining hall, naka-polo dress na navy blue, messy bun, at walang make-up, habang si Damon ay nakaupo sa dulo ng mahabang mesa, malamig ang mga mata at tikom ang bibig—hindi ko maalis ang kirot sa dibdib ko.

It felt too real.

“You think I don’t see what this is becoming?” he growled, his voice low but hard enough to cut glass.

Ang lintek na linya—rehearsed.

I memorized it.

But hearing it now… God, it stung.

“Don’t do that,” I hissed through clenched teeth, stepping closer. “Don’t say something you can’t unsay.”

“I just did.” Tumayo siya. Mabigat ang bawat hakbang papalapit. “You're too dangerous to trust, Skyra. You’re emotionally unstable. You second-guess everything—me, yourself, even your goddamn shadow.”

A sharp gasp echoed. One of the guards outside the open doorway twitched. Good. Let them hear it. Let them report it.

“You’re one to talk about trust,” I spat, eyes wide with fire. “You kidnapped me, manipulated me, seduced me just so you could get intel on my family—on me!”

We were shouting now.

Perfect.

Let the surveillance catch every word. Let the spies hiding in Damon’s own ranks feed this to Elian like starving dogs thrown a fresh bone.

“Was I ever more than just another mission to you?” I screamed, letting my voice break at the right pitch. My fingers trembled, but I turned it into fists. Real emotion for a fake war.

Damon stepped so close I could feel his breath.

“You were the f*****g mistake I never should’ve made,” he growled low, then shoved the glass off the table.

CRASH.

The sound echoed like a gunshot across the villa.

The walls didn’t just hear it — they swallowed it whole.

My heart was hammering in my chest, not from fear… but from how close it all felt to the truth.

His pupils were blown wide. Jaw clenched. Hands shaking.

Because this wasn’t just for show.

This was release.

This was exorcism.

Because no matter how much we pretended it was all a game… our damage was real.

"You’re ungrateful," he snapped. "I protected you, trained you, trusted you with my life."

"And I gave you everything I had left!" I shouted back, tears now real — blurring my vision, dripping on my chest. "I chose you, Damon. Even when I didn’t know if I’d survive it."

His face twisted into something primal. Pain. Regret. Fury. Love.

Then — he turned his back.

“I’m done,” he said flatly, walking away from me, his boots loud on the marble. “You leave tomorrow. Pack your shit.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

Silence fell like a bomb.

And for one breathless moment… I forgot it was fake.

I forgot the plan.

I just felt the ache.

The unbearable silence that follows a goodbye you don’t want — but have to give.

Because this was the only way to find out who’s still watching me. Still following. Still waiting to kill me.

They wouldn’t show unless they thought I was finally… alone.

But f**k…

It still felt like loss.

DAMON'S POV

Later that night

Damon in the surveillance room. He watches the replay. Skyra’s breakdown. The way she stared at the door after he left. Her whispered “Don’t go.”

He slams a fist into the table.

Because even if it was fake—he still hated walking away.

From her.

From the only woman who ever made him feel.

SKYRA'S POV

Hindi ko alam kung anong mas masakit — ‘yung mga salitang binitawan namin ni Damon sa loob ng kwarto, o ‘yung katahimikang sumunod pagkatapos niyang umalis.

I stayed there.

Frozen. Umiiyak ng tahimik.

Hanggang sa may narinig akong ibang ingay. Mula sa kabilang hallway. Mahinang langitngit ng sahig.

May nakikinig.

May nanonood.

At wala akong duda kung sino.

Isabella’s Secret POV

Nakasilip siya sa siwang ng hallway wall panel, kung saan itinago ang maliit na bug recorder na siya mismo ang nagtanim ilang araw na ang nakalipas.

Kanina pa siya nakatayo ro’n — naka-nightgown, walang yapak, at may hawak na maliit na tablet kung saan real-time niyang naririnig ang usapan nina Damon at Skyra.

At nang marinig niya ang mga salitang iyon…

“You don’t get to own me, Damon.”

“Then walk away.”

“Maybe I will.”

…isang ngisi ang gumuhit sa mukha niya.

“Oh baby girl,” bulong niya. “You finally snapped.”

Dahan-dahan siyang umupo sa gilid ng hallway, pinatay ang screen ng tablet at pinikit ang mga mata — para lasapin ang sarap ng tagumpay.

She believed it.

Lahat-lahat.

Ang pagkasira ng relasyon nina Damon at Skyra. Ang sigawan. Ang sakit. Ang pagkabitak ng tiwalang akala niya'y matibay.

And she thought… it was real.

She thought she won.

She licked her lips. “Looks like I’ll be taking over this island after all.”

She had no idea.

Na ang bawat salita na narinig niya ay sinadya.

Na ang bawat galaw, ang bawat sigaw, ay isang bitag para sa kanya.

At habang nagdiriwang siya sa dilim, may isang hidden camera sa taas ng hallway na nakatutok sa kanya — live feed, diretso sa command center.

And Damon was watching.

His jaw clenched.

His voice low.

“She bought it.”

Lumipas ang tatlong oras mula nang “magsigawan” kami ni Damon.

Hindi pa rin siya bumabalik.

Ako naman, nasa dressing room ng villa — naka-palda pa rin ako at blouse, pero wala akong planong mag-ayos. Ang mga mata ko, pulang-pula. Alam kong nasa ibang parte ng compound si Damon ngayon, pinapanood kung anong susunod na hakbang ni Isabella.

Bitag ito.

Pero kahit alam kong scripted ang lahat, hindi ko pa rin mapigilan ang sakit. Ang totoo, mas madaling tanggapin ang baril sa sentido kaysa sa acting namin kanina.

Then suddenly — may tunog sa may corridor. Mula sa shared bedroom.

Creak.

Tahimik akong lumabas ng dressing room at marahang tinungo ang kwarto. Walang ilaw. Madilim. Ngunit may liwanag mula sa tablet sa loob — may screen na naka-activate.

Then I saw her.

Isabella.

Nakatuwad sa ilalim ng side table. May hawak siyang maliit na bug device — singliit ng capsule, kulay itim, blinking blue.

Agad kong naramdaman ang init ng dugo ko.

She wasn’t just eavesdropping anymore.

She was planting a second device.

In our bedroom.

Sa mismong kwarto kung saan ako’y umiiyak, kung saan kami ni Damon naglalapat ng mga balat at lihim, kung saan tinatapon ko ang buong pagkatao ko sa mga bisig niya kahit hindi ako sigurado kung sa kanya ba talaga ako ligtas.

And this snake was crawling in our bed.

I stepped forward. Walang ingay.

“Looking for something, b***h?”

Napalingon siya — bigla, gulat na gulat, halos mabitawan ang device.

“Skyra—! I-I was just—”

“Planting surveillance? Spying on us like the pathetic little traitor you are?”

Bumilis ang t***k ng puso ko. I didn’t even realize I was already gripping one of Damon’s tactical knives from the bedside drawer.

She stood up. “I was just—”

“Don’t. You. Dare,” singhal ko. “Don’t lie to me in my own room.”

“Damon told me to—”

“Really?” Nilapit ko ang mukha ko sa kanya. “Gusto mong subukan ang swerte mo sa kasinungalingan ngayon?”

Umiling siya. Tumalikod. Pero hinawakan ko ang braso niya — madiin.

“Every time you smile at me, I smell venom. Every time you touch him, I want to slit your throat.”

“Skyra—”

“Anong plano mo, ha? Ire-record mo kami habang natutulog? Habang nagkakantutan kami? Habang sinisigaw ko ang pangalan niya habang nasa loob ko siya?”

Napatigil siya. Nabilaukan sa hiya.

“You don’t belong here,” dagdag ko, halos pabulong pero mas lethal kaysa sa sigaw. “You’re a virus. And I’m done letting you crawl in my system.”

“I was just following orders…”

“I’m not Damon,” I hissed. “And I don’t forgive snakes.”

At sa isang iglap—

Pak!

Sinampal ko siya.

Malakas. Madiin. Maririnig hanggang hallway ang tunog.

Napatumba siya sa gilid ng kama, hawak ang pisngi, namumula agad.

Nanginginig ang mga daliri ko. Hindi dahil sa takot.

Dahil sa galit. Sa kataksilan. Sa pagiging baboy niya sa lahat ng sagrado sa akin.

“Get out,” I said. “Before I forget how merciful I’m pretending to be.”

Tahimik. Bigla siyang tumayo, pilit na hindi nagpapakita ng kahinaan — pero halata sa bawat hakbang niya ang takot. Ang pagkabasag.

Binuksan niya ang pinto at lumabas.

And I stood there. Breathing hard.

Hawak ang bug device sa palad ko — pinisil ko ito ng mariin.

Then turned toward the surveillance camera hidden in the corner of the ceiling.

I knew Damon was watching.

And he saw everything.

DAMON'S POV

The chopper blades sliced through the night air like whispers of war.

Hindi pa umaabot sa alas-dos ng madaling-araw nang umalis ako sa isla. Walang paalam. Walang tunog. I needed the ghost routes—secured by scrambled transponders and black-level clearance.

Skyra was asleep when I left.

At least, I hoped she was.

But I couldn’t risk her knowing where I was going. Not yet.

The Manila skyline flickered beneath the haze as the stealth chopper dipped low, bypassing the standard air corridors. I landed in a private military airstrip in Bulacan—cleared through old connections I barely kept alive for operations exactly like this.

Operation Ouroboros. Elian’s secret weapon.

A contract buried under shell corporations, routed through political liaisons, but tied—very clearly—to a name I didn’t expect to see:

Senator Romulo Gallardo.

The same senator currently pushing for a new security bill that would grant his select contractors full access to “domestic threat suppression.”

Bullshit.

That bill was just a leash for his dogs.

And Elian? Elian was feeding them.

My boots hit the tarmac, and I moved like a shadow through the transport hangar, flanked by two of my men from Phalanx Alpha. Dressed in civilian suits, but all armed.

“Any updates?” tanong ko kay Royce habang binabasa ko ang tablet na iniabot niya.

“Yes, sir. The contract was approved via proxy board vote — twenty-four hours ago. Gallardo’s security firm received the greenlight to deploy first wave of AI-driven surveillance tech. Guess who provided the software?”

“Elian.” I spat the name like poison.

“Yes. Through Monteverde Digital Defense Systems.”

Tangina.

Skyra didn’t even know that division was activated. Probably dormant since she buried the war-tech branches after her father’s death.

So Elian reactivated it. And now it was funding armed drones, synthetic biometric targeting, and—most likely—the same tech used in the ambushes against us.

He wasn’t just trying to kill her.

He was replacing her.

“He’s setting her up to look unstable,” sabi ko, habang tinatap ko ang encrypted logs. “He triggers panic, makes her look erratic, then steps in as the ‘savior’ of the company.”

“Classic misdirection,” sabi ni Royce. “And now he has legal teeth to bite.”

“I’m pulling them out.”

Dumaan kami sa isang guarded corridor—puro reinforced glass at biometric scanners. I used my secondary clearance to override.

This was an old Velasquez hub. Disbanded years ago. Until tonight.

Sa loob ng command room, bumukas ang malalaking screens—real-time overlays of Elian’s known shell companies, timelines of media releases, potential bribe trails.

I stood before them, jaw clenched.

This wasn’t just war.

This was a f*****g corporate coup.

And Skyra was the queen they wanted off the board.

But not if I beat them at their own game.

I leaned forward, tapping into the interface. “Push full trace on Gallardo’s dummy shell companies. I want every senator he’s paid, every general he’s threatened, every off-the-books procurement tracked and exposed.”

Royce blinked. “Sir… that’ll spark a national investigation. It could blow everything wide open.”

“That’s the point.” I smiled coldly. “If they want chaos — I’ll show them what real chaos looks like.”

He nodded, then left the room.

Naiwan akong mag-isa.

Tumingin ako sa central screen — frozen sa isang image ng blueprint. Not of a building, not of a weapon…

But of the Monteverde Holdings chain-of-command.

With Skyra’s name at the very top.

I pressed my hand against the glass.

“This ends with you still on that throne, Skyra,” I whispered. “Even if I have to burn the entire empire to the f*****g ground.”

SKYRA'S POV

Pagmulat ko ng mata, una kong napansin ang malamig na bahagi ng kama.

Wala siya.

I sat up slowly, the sheets falling around my waist. Hinaplos ko ang kumot kung saan siya dapat nakahiga. Still warm — pero wala na ang init ng katawan niya. Just the emptiness.

“Damon?” tawag ko, paos ang boses.

Walang sumagot.

Bumangon ako, suot pa rin ang oversized shirt na kanya. Tahimik ang buong villa, masyadong tahimik para sa isang lugar na dati’y punô ng kanyang mga yabag, utos sa comms, at bigat ng presensya.

Naglakad ako papuntang hallway, hawak ang pader para sa balanse. Baka nasa command room siya, or outside making a call.

“Damon, where the hell are you…” bulong ko.

Nada.

Nilibot ko ang hallway, kitchen, veranda. Pero lahat ng lights naka-low. Wala siya, wala ang boses niya, wala ang sigla ng presensya niya. And for the first time since the ambush, I felt it again — that void.

Nasaan siya?

I stood in the center of the villa, staring blankly at the still air. Everything felt… off. Sterile. Controlled.

Bumalik ako sa lounge at naupo sa sofa. May inihandang tsaa sa coffee table. Mainit pa. May post-it note sa tabi.

“Drink. You haven’t slept right in days. —D.”

Or so I thought.

Mainit ang dibdib ko. Hindi sa init ng inumin — kundi para bang may apoy na gumagapang sa lalamunan ko. My lips tingled. Then my fingertips.

I froze.

Tumayo ako. Nabitiwan ko ang mug — tumama ito sa sahig, nabasag.

The world tilted slightly.

“f**k—” napahawak ako sa pader, one palm flat, trying to steady myself.

My heart pounded faster than normal. I could hear it in my ears. My vision blurred at the edges.

“Something’s wrong,” bulong ko.

I stumbled toward the kitchen — trying to breathe, trying not to panic. I gripped the counter. My skin was clammy, and cold sweat clung to my back.

I pressed my fingers to my neck. Pulse: erratic. Too fast.

Parang nilalason ang utak ko.

I opened the fridge, searching for water, anything — but even the light inside felt disorienting.

Then, something flickered in my peripheral vision.

A movement.

Small. Fast.

Sa hallway, may humabol na anino. A figure. No sound. Just the impression of someone moving away.

My blood turned to ice.

Hindi ako nag-aksaya ng oras. Pinilit kong igalaw ang mga paa ko. I stumbled to the command console by the living room wall — inputting Damon’s override code from memory.

“Come on, come on…” hingal ko, as my vision swam.

I accessed the internal security logs.

And froze.

Kitchen entry: logged 3:27AM.

ID: Isabella Cruz.

What the f**k?

Isabella was supposed to be on lock. She had no access beyond the outer compound. Damon made sure of it.

But somehow... she got in.

And she touched the kitchen.

Right before I drank that tea.

My fingers shook as I scanned the logs further. There — a glitch. Camera feed missing for twelve minutes.

Breach.

Sabotage.

My throat burned. I stumbled toward the bathroom, dropped to my knees, and forced myself to throw up. My body convulsed, pero kailangan — kailangan kong mailabas lahat.

I heaved again. Acid. Bitter. Then water.

Then silence.

Humihingal ako sa sahig, pawis na pawis, nanghihina.

I could barely keep my eyes open.

And the last thing I whispered before passing out was:

“Elian… you son of a bitch.”

DAMON'S POV

Paglapag ng chopper sa clearing malapit sa villa, agad kong binunot ang comms.

“Status,” sabi ko, habang binababa ko ang tactical backpack.

“All clear, sir. Perimeter secure. No motion detected since 0400.”

“Good. Keep the line open.”

Hindi na ako naghintay pa. Tumakbo ako papasok ng compound. The moment I stepped inside the villa, may naramdaman akong mali. Masyadong tahimik. Masyadong... static.

“Skyra?”

Walang sumagot.

“Skyra!”

Hinubad ko ang gloves at inikot ang mata ko. May mug sa floor basag. May paper note pa sa tabi — ‘Drink. You haven’t slept right in days. —D.’

I wrote that.

But I didn’t expect she’d actually drink it.

Napalingon ako sa sahig. At doon, nanlaki ang mga mata ko.

“s**t—”

Skyra’s body — nakahandusay sa tabi ng chaise lounge, nakatagilid, nanlalamig ang balat.

“Skyra!” napasigaw ako, agad siyang nilapitan at hinawakan ang pisngi niya. She was pale. Too pale.

Her lips — namumutla. Nanginginig ang fingertips niya.

“Come on, come on, baby—look at me.” Inangat ko siya, pinatong sa kandungan ko. “Open your eyes. Skyra!”

Weak groan.

Kumurap siya. Kaunti. Pero sapat para masabi ko sa sarili kong buhay pa siya.

“Poison,” bulong niya, barely audible.

I froze. “What?”

“The tea,” she rasped. “Damon… I—I think it was… the tea…”

No.

Fucking no.

“Echo, patch me to MedSec NOW!” sigaw ko sa earpiece habang binibitbit si Skyra papunta sa emergency kit. “Skyra Monteverde has been poisoned — unknown toxin, respiratory suppression, possibly neurological.”

“Copy. Patch active. Proceed with Dox-Iso flush protocol.”

Humarap ako sa med cabinet. Hinugot ang hypo-pen, opened the emergency Doxorubicin injector, and slid it into the side of her thigh.

Click. Psshht.

Skyra arched slightly in pain, then collapsed back against my chest, trembling.

“Stay with me, baby. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” Tinutok ko ang forehead ko sa noo niya, ramdam ko ang lamig ng balat niya kumpara sa init ko. “Don’t you f*****g dare leave me.”

Another heartbeat.

Another breath.

Then—she coughed.

Malalim. Maugong. Masakit pakinggan.

Pero buhay.

“D-Damon…” she whispered.

“I’m here,” bulong ko, tinatanggal ang basa niyang buhok sa pisngi niya. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“You won’t,” I said, eyes burning. “Not on my watch.”

Hinawakan ko siya nang mahigpit, parang baka mawala pa rin siya kahit humihinga na siya ngayon. Every part of me was trembling.

And in that moment — something inside me snapped.

I kissed her temple, then gently laid her back on the sofa with a warm compress. “I’ll be right back,” bulong ko.

But inside… I was already preparing for war.

Whoever touched her — whoever dared to try and take her from me — just signed their death warrant.

SKYRA'S POV

Ramdam ko pa rin ang hilo habang nakahiga sa sofa, kumakapit sa mainit na compress sa tiyan ko. The poison’s effects were slowly fading, thanks to Damon’s fast reaction. Pero ang utak ko, gising na gising.

I almost died.

And Damon… he was shaking.

Not from fear — but from rage.

Biglang bumukas ang command console sa hallway. Sumigaw ang boses ni Damon, baritone and sharp as a gunshot.

“Check the logs. Who entered the villa in the last six hours?”

“Isang guest access code, Sir,” sagot ng tech on comms. “Isabella’s biometric registered at 3:00 AM. Brief access to the pantry and master room zone.”

My stomach dropped.

Si Isabella?

“I want the footage. Now,” utos ni Damon.

Tumayo ako. Mahina pa, pero kaya na. Lumapit ako sa likod ni Damon habang pinapanood niya ang footage sa malaking screen.

And there it was.

Isabella.

In silk nightwear, barefoot, ang buhok niya nakatirintas. Holding… something small. A microchip? Bug? Vial?

She walked straight into our room. Tinignan ang paligid, ngumisi, then carefully poured something into the electric kettle.

Then — she left. Calm. Composed. Like she hadn’t just tried to murder me.

“f*****g b***h,” bulong ko, naluluha na sa galit.

Damon turned to me. His jaw clenched. “Stay here.”

He didn’t run. He stalked.

Sa hallway, narinig ko ang matigas niyang boses.

“ISABELLA!”

Biglang may tunog ng mga yapak, tapos kalabog.

“Ano ba—Damon!” sigaw ni Isabella, gulat.

“Don’t f*****g play dumb,” sagot ni Damon, his voice sharp like steel. “You tried to kill her. You poisoned the tea.”

“What? Are you insane?! I was just—”

Slap!

Hindi sa mukha. Sa mesa. Nilapag ni Damon ang isang bug — the same one she planted beside our bed.

“You walked in at 3:00 AM. You tampered with the kettle. You planted a transmitter by the lamp. Lahat naka-record. Gusto mong mamatay?”

Tumahimik si Isabella. Then — that same smug smile.

“I just followed orders,” bulong niya. “You should know what loyalty looks like, Damon.”

He stepped closer. Ang mukha niya, mapanganib. Walang awa.

“Then watch how betrayal is punished.”

Kinuha niya ang comms.

“Lock Room C. Activate 24-hour containment. No contact. No communication. No food until it was cleared by me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Two guards appeared instantly. Tinutukan si Isabella.

She paled. “You can’t be serious!”

“I’m being generous,” malamig na sagot ni Damon. “You should be dead.”

Hinila siya palayo ng mga tauhan. Tinulak siya papasok sa isang reinforced isolation chamber sa dulong bahagi ng villa. Matibay ang mga pinto, bulletproof glass, at wala siyang access sa kahit anong tech.

“DAMON!” sigaw niya habang isinasara ang pinto. “You’ll regret this! She’s going to destroy you!”

But her words barely reached him.

He walked away — tahimik, composed, lethal.

Dahan-dahang bumukas ang glass door ng hallway. Damon stepped inside, shoulders tense, kamay may bahid pa ng dugo mula sa doorframe na nasapok niya sa galit kanina.

“Skyra…”

He said my name like it was the only word he trusted.

Hindi ko siya sinagot agad. I couldn’t. Sa dami ng nangyari, sa dami ng nalaman… all I wanted was something real.

And he came closer.

Walang warning, walang tanong—he knelt down sa harap ko and gently cupped my face with both hands.

“Talk to me,” bulong niya. “Please.”

Napapikit ako. Tiningnan ko siya, and for the first time since the poison hit me, I allowed myself to fall—into his warmth, into his arms, into that quiet strength only Damon could give.

“I thought I was safe,” bulong ko. “I thought… kahit papaano, kahit surrounded tayo ng danger, kahit galit ako sa’yo minsan… at least I was safe here.”

He pressed his forehead against mine. “You were safe. And I failed.”

“You didn’t.”

“I should’ve seen it coming.”

“But you came back.”

That stopped him. Nakita ko sa mga mata niya ang struggle—between blame and relief. Between rage and love.

“I told you,” he whispered, “I’ll burn down the world to protect you.”

Hinila niya ako palapit. I curled into his lap, arms around his neck, cheek pressed to his shoulder.

Ang init ng katawan niya, ang lamig ng balat ko, ang mismong paghinga niya—lahat iyon ay naging sandalan ko. His fingers ran gently up and down my spine, soothing every part of me that still shook.

“Do you think she was working directly for Elian?”

“I don’t think,” he said softly. “I know. And I’ll prove it.”

I looked up at him. “Promise me… when this is all over, hindi mo ako iiwan.”

His jaw clenched. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“I’m not just going to stay,” he said, voice low and deep, “I’m going to build the world with you—one they can never take away again.”

Naluha ako. But this time… it wasn’t from fear.

It was from being held. Really held.

Like I wasn’t someone being watched.

Or used.

Or manipulated.

But someone… finally safe.