Collision of Hearts

Chapter 3

Hindi pa rin gumagalaw si Skyra.

Nakatingin lang siya kay Damon—mata sa matang parang nag-uubusan ng hininga. Hangin sa pagitan nila’y mabigat, mabangis. Parang kung may magsalita pa ulit, sasabog ang buong silid.

Pero siya ang unang kumilos.

Dahan-dahang lumingon si Skyra. Her eyes scanned the wall of monitors behind him. Isa-isa. Room by room. Island by island.

Hanggang may isang screen na humatak ng atensyon niya.

Monitor 07.

Napalapit siya. Napahinto.

A woman in a red dress.

Her.

Lumabas sa elevator ng Monteverde Luxe Tower. May hawak na tablet. Tinutungo ang limo. Malinaw ang anggulo. Malinaw ang kuha.

But the timestamp…

Four weeks ago.

Biglang lumamig ang dugo ni Skyra.

“What is this?” she asked quietly—too quietly.

Damon didn’t answer.

She stepped closer to the monitor, voice rising.

“What the hell is this?”

Damon's jaw clenched. “I told you I did my research.”

“This isn’t research,” she snapped, turning toward him. “This is f*cking surveillance.”

Tahimik. Pero sa loob ni Skyra, may bumubulwak nang galit at panic. Hindi niya alam kung alin ang mas nakakabaliw — na pinapanood siya, o na hindi niya ito nalaman.

"How long have you been watching me, Damon?"

“Since the board scandal,” he answered. "Before the Tokyo expansion. When Monteverde Holdings started shaking offshore alliances."

Her stomach twisted.

“You followed me across countries?”

“I didn’t follow you,” he said, calm but sharp. “I watched. There’s a difference.”

“Bullsht!” she exploded. “You had cameras in Manila! In my life! You watched me without my fcking consent!”

“You stepped into dangerous waters, Skyra,” he said flatly. “I needed to know who you were before you became a threat to me—or to yourself.”

Tumalikod siya, both hands gripping the edge of the console. Kinakabog ang dibdib. Nanlalamig ang batok.

Na-track siya. Minanmanan siya. Ng isang lalaking hindi niya lubos na kilala, pero nagdudulot ng apoy sa balat niya tuwing magkalapit sila.

She turned slowly.

"How many times?"

Damon paused.

Her voice hardened.

"How many videos, Damon? How many private moments did you record? Did you watch me eat? Sleep? Undress?"

His throat tightened. “Only public. Never your home. Never anything intimate.”

But even that wasn’t enough.

Because the fact remained: he had eyes on her life before she even knew his name.

“You disgust me.”

Skyra paced the room, ang mga mata'y hindi makatingin kay Damon. She felt… violated. Betrayed. Used.

“A week before the Tokyo pitch,” she muttered. “That footage… that was me leaving the executive wing at Salcedo Tower.”

Damon didn’t deny it.

She spun to face him. “You’ve been watching me.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t mean reading tabloids or business dossiers, Damon. I mean surveillance. Real-time, security feeds, timestamped clips—”

“I know what you mean.”

Skyra’s jaw clenched. Her voice dropped, low and venomous.

“You f*cking stalked me.”

Damon stepped forward. His expression didn’t falter, but his tone darkened.

“I observed you.”

“Same damn thing.”

“No,” he corrected coldly. “I didn’t track you out of obsession. I did it because you became a variable. A threat. Your company was crossing into black zones—military acquisition territories, shadow markets, off-grid shell accounts.”

She blinked, stunned by the specificity.

“How the hell would you even know that?”

“I have eyes in places you don’t,” Damon said. “And when I realized Monteverde Holdings was being manipulated by external players… I watched you to find the leak.”

Skyra’s mind reeled. She remembered Elian’s insistence on the Tokyo merger. The suspicious absence of her usual legal counsel. The off-the-books jet charter he scheduled for her.

“You thought I was the leak?” she whispered.

“I thought you were being used,” Damon replied. “Until I saw how good you were at lying to them too.”

Silence.

Heavy. Suffocating.

Skyra stepped closer, her breath trembling but her spine stiff.

“You still had no right.”

“No,” he said, steady. “But I did it anyway.”

“Because you’re used to playing god.”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t ask for help even if your life depended on it.”

Their eyes locked again — rage and heat crashing like storms.

Then—

Skyra whispered, “You’ve been inside my life before you even touched my hand.”

Damon’s eyes flickered with something darker. Not guilt.

Possession.

“I’ve seen you command boardrooms with blood in your eyes,” he said. “I’ve seen you in that red dress walking into your father’s legacy like you were born to burn it down.”

He moved closer again, every word laced with steel.

“I knew the moment you crossed my airspace… that you were fire.”

“And you thought you could contain me?”

“I thought I could survive you.”

A sharp exhale escaped her lips—part laugh, part fury.

“You’re delusional.”

“No,” he said. “I’m prepared.”

Then he leaned in, voice low and lethal.

“But let me make this clear, Ms. Monteverde. You can hate me. You can fight me. You can curse me for what I did… but deep down, you know I’m the only one who saw what was coming.”

Skyra didn’t answer.

Because she wasn’t sure anymore what she hated more — the truth, or how much it thrilled her.

Pak!

The slap echoed through the command room like a gunshot.

Skyra’s palm stung, but not as much as her pride.

Damon didn’t flinch. His head turned slightly, the side of his face reddening. But his eyes… they burned hotter than ever. Like the pain only ignited him more.

“Don’t you ever,” she hissed, “touch my life without my permission again.”

“You already gave it to me,” he growled. “The moment you flew into my airspace.”

“I came here for business—”

“And now you're in a war zone.”

He stepped toward her.

She stepped back — only once. Then planted her heels and met his gaze squarely.

Their chests were rising fast. Ang pagitan nila’y wala pang isang dangkal. Rage pulsed through her veins. But beneath it, something far more dangerous simmered.

Need.

“You crossed the line, Damon,” she snapped.

“So did you,” he snarled. “When you hacked into my systems. When you looked into my eyes like you wanted to burn me down.”

And then—

He grabbed her.

Not violently. But with a possessive force that stole her breath. His hands cupped her jaw, and before she could even exhale—

His mouth crashed against hers.

Walang pasabi. Walang pag-aalinlangan.

Rough. Unforgiving. Wild.

Parang kidlat na tumama sa gitna ng bagyo.

She gasped against his lips, pero hindi siya umatras. Skyra Monteverde didn’t submit — not to anyone. Kaya’t gumanti siya, sinabayan ang init ng halik. Her hands fisted his shirt, yanking him closer until their bodies slammed together.

Damon groaned, low and primal, as if she surprised him.

“You want to play games?” he rasped, breaking the kiss just long enough to growl against her mouth. “You started this.”

Skyra’s eyes were molten. Her voice, ragged.

“Then finish it.”

Their mouths collided again, harsher this time. Tongues clashed. Teeth grazed. His hand slid to the back of her neck, ang isa pang kamay niya ay pumatong sa balakang niya — holding her there, forcing her to feel every inch of his dominance.

She moaned — not in submission, but in defiance.

You want war? I’ll give you one.

Naramdaman ni Skyra ang init ng kanyang katawan. Halos mabaliw siya sa sensasyon. Damon's kiss wasn’t romantic. It was a claim. And she refused to be claimed.

Kaya’t tumulak siya. Hard. Pushed him away with fire in her eyes.

Hingal silang pareho. Labas ang dibdib. Mata sa mata. Walang gustong magpatalo.

But nothing was the same.

Something between them had already broken loose. Or awakened.

Skyra wiped her lips, then whispered, almost mockingly, “Is that your idea of control, Commander?”

Damon’s chest heaved.

“No,” he rasped. “That was a mistake.”

Skyra smirked, stepping back, proud. “One you clearly enjoyed.”

She turned, leaving him there — shaken, furious, and still wanting.

And as she walked away, Skyra smiled to herself.

Because for the first time… she’d made him lose control.

“Was that your version of discipline, Commander?” Skyra whispered, breathless, her voice a taunt laced with desire and defiance.

Damon didn’t answer with words.

He grabbed her wrists — not to hurt, but to dominate. He slammed them gently but firmly against the cool steel panel behind her, pinning her in place. His mouth hovered inches above hers, their breath mingling in the electric air between them.

“This isn’t a boardroom, Skyra,” he rasped. “And I’m not one of your executives you can manipulate with a look.”

“And you’re not as in control as you think,” she hissed back.

She twisted one wrist, broke free, and in a quick, calculated motion — she spun him, reversing their positions. Now he was the one against the wall, and she was the one holding him, one hand pressing to his chest, the other trailing boldly down his abdomen.

Damon’s breath hitched. “You’re playing with fire.”

She leaned in, lips grazing his jaw. “No, Commander. I am the fire.”

His eyes darkened, hands gripping her hips, pulling her flush against him.

Their bodies aligned — every inch a battle. Every breath, a challenge.

“Tell me to stop,” he growled.

“Make me.”

In one fluid motion, Damon lifted her by the waist and sat her on the console table, his mouth returning to hers — rougher, hungrier. Their tongues tangled like rivals locked in a dance of dominance. Buttons flew. Fingernails dragged. Moans and growls echoed off the metal walls.

But Skyra wasn’t surrendering — not fully.

Even as Damon kissed down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, she yanked his head back by his hair, eyes blazing.

“This doesn’t mean you own me.”

He smirked. “Then why do you taste like victory?”

She shoved him again — hard — and slid off the table. Her robe had slipped down one shoulder, revealing the red mark his mouth had left.

She didn’t bother fixing it.

Instead, she turned, stepped away, calm but feral, grabbing the remote from the side of the room.

She clicked a button — and the main monitor sparked to life.

Surveillance.

But not of the island.

It was her.

Weeks ago.

Walking out of her Manila condo. Inside the Monteverde Holdings boardroom. Entering her limo. Looking powerful. Alone.

Skyra turned slowly. Her voice dropped to a chilling whisper.

“You’ve been watching me long before that plane went down.”

Damon didn’t deny it.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I knew someone would come after you. And I knew you wouldn’t see it coming.”

“So you made yourself the hunter instead?”

“No,” he said. “I made myself the shield.”

“Bullshit,” she spat. “You don’t protect women like me. You want to control them. Tame them.”

Damon stepped toward her, chest bare, breathing heavy.

“I want to keep you alive. Whether you like how I do it or not.”

Silence.

Their gazes locked again.

This time, not just with lust.

But something deeper. Dangerous.

A mix of fear, fury, and fragile truth.

Skyra broke the eye contact first. She turned off the screen.

Tightened the robe over her bruised pride.

And whispered, “Enjoy the footage, Commander.”

Then she walked out.

Not running.

Not breaking.

But burning.

And for the first time, Damon didn’t follow.

Because he knew — the real war had just begun.

Damon stood frozen by the command console, chest rising and falling rapidly, pupils blown wide with desire and fury. His fists clenched at his sides — not from defeat, but from the fact that he didn’t win.

He always won.

But not with her.

Not with Skyra Monteverde.

Because the moment she turned off the surveillance screen and walked out without looking back, robe loose, chin high, skin still flushed from their clash — she had already won.

Not the war.

But that round.

And he knew it.

Sa hallway, tahimik si Skyra habang naglalakad pabalik sa guest room. Pero sa loob niya, ang puso’y kumakabog hindi sa takot — kundi sa adrenaline ng pagkakapanalo.

He wanted to dominate her?

Let him burn in the fire he started.

Pagpasok niya sa kwarto, marahan niyang isinara ang pinto. Hindi niya ito sinarado ng marahas. No. That would be too emotional.

She wasn’t running. She was retreating with elegance — because that’s what queens do when they choose not to destroy their enemies just yet.

Huminga siya nang malalim. Pinikit ang mata. Naglakad papunta sa vanity table. Tumitig sa sarili sa salamin.

Her lips were swollen. Her neck bore a faint mark — the ghost of his mouth.

Pero hindi ito kahinaan.

It was proof.

Proof that even in his territory, under his watch, on his island — she could take control and walk away with her head held high.

Hindi siya bihag.

She was a storm passing through.

And storms don’t beg.

Meanwhile, back in the command center...

Damon hadn’t moved.

The surveillance feed was still active, though the hallway she vanished into now showed only flickering shadows.

He dragged a hand through his hair.

“f**k,” he muttered.

His pulse still thundered. His body still ached for her. But more than that — his pride had taken a hit.

She got under his skin.

She flipped his game.

And she enjoyed it.

The corner of his mouth twitched — not in amusement, but in warning.

“She wants to play?” he muttered, eyes narrowing. “Then let’s raise the stakes.”

Pagkasarado ng pinto, bumalik si Skyra sa vanity table. Tiningnan na naman ang sarili sa salamin — this time, mas matagal.

Her eyes were sharp.

Not broken.

Not shaken.

But dangerous.

Hindi ito laban ng katawan lang. Ito’y laban ng isipan. Laban ng kontrol.

“You want a war?” she whispered to herself. “Then I’ll burn the battlefield.”

Humugot siya ng maliit na encrypted device mula sa lining ng kanyang robe — isang microdrive na halos hindi ma-detect kahit ng security scanner ni Damon. Isa ito sa mga backup tools niya. Emergency-use only.

But this was war. And war justified everything.

Ikinonekta niya ito sa tablet na iniwan ni Damon sa kwarto niya — akala siguro’y useless ito sa kamay ng isang babae. Nagkamali siya.

In less than thirty seconds, na-bypass niya ang basic firewall.

Pumasok siya sa secure logs ng Monteverde Holdings flight schedules. Files only Elian should’ve had access to.

At doon siya nanlamig.

May naka-log na duplicate flight path.

Same coordinates. Same day. Same time.

But instead of her name… Elian’s clearance code.

Her chest tightened.

“Why would Elian tag that location?” she whispered. “Unless he wanted to monitor… or intercept…”

Or sabotage.

Bumilis ang t***k ng puso niya. Her mouth went dry.

Could her brother—the one who swore to protect her—be involved?

Hindi siya makasigaw. Hindi siya makaiyak. Hindi siya makagalaw. Pero sa loob niya, may nagkakalamat.

“I trusted you,” she whispered, fists clenched.

Biglang nag-flicker ang tablet screen — connection lost.

Damon.

Alam niyang pinutol na nito ang access.

But it was too late.

She saw enough.

Tumayo si Skyra, mabigat ang hininga. Tumingin sa labas ng bintana. Sa malayong dagat, sa dilim ng gabi, sa tanikala ng katahimikang alam niyang ilusyon lang.

“This is no longer about survival,” she murmured.

“This is revenge.”

She turned back to the mirror.

And for the first time since the crash, Skyra Monteverde smiled.

Not sweet.

Not soft.

But dangerous. Ruthless. Alive.

“Watch closely, Commander,” bulong niya. “Because I’m going to escape this island…”

“…and when I do, I’ll burn every goddamn lie down with me.”