Entangled

Chapter Five

Back at her desk, Sofia stared at her inbox. A blank email draft blinked on the screen, the cursor waiting. Her hands hovered over the keys, clammy and stiff.

To: Jacinto Group Communications

How did one even begin? Dear Sir or Madam, I am not the woman your billionaire heir was photographed with in an alley…

She pressed her palms against her eyes and exhaled sharply. The lawyer’s voice echoed in her head. Their job is to protect him. That means untangling you from this mess.

Her phone buzzed again. Kuya Elias. Singapore.

She almost let it go to voicemail, but guilt won. She swiped to answer.

“Sofia!” His voice was frantic. “What is this? Why are you all over my feed? Inang is crying, Tatang cannot even look at the neighbors, and my inbox is full of screenshots. Tell me this is not true!”

“It is not true,” Sofia said quickly. Her throat burned. “Kuya, I swear. I have never even met Tristan Jacinto. I only edited his interview. That is it.”

“But the pictures—”

“It is not me!” she almost shouted. Her voice cracked, thick with exhaustion. “Please, you have to believe me.”

Elias sighed, the sound harsh in her ear. “I believe you. But you know how it is back home. They will believe what they want. The whole barangay is talking already. Even the next town. And you know how people are now that they have f*******: and t****k. It is all they do.”

Her heart twisted. She could picture it too clearly. Neighbors on plastic chairs outside sari-sari stores, scrolling their cheap smartphones, trading gossips like cigarettes. Her parents, red-faced with shame, forced to hear whispers they did not deserve.

“I will fix it,” she whispered. “I promise.”

Before she could hang up, another call came through. Her mother.

She answered, her stomach dropping. “Inang.”

“Piang,” her mother’s voice cracked. “Why are people saying these things? Why are they putting your face beside that man?”

Tears pricked Sofia’s eyes. “It is not true, Inang. It is not me. You raised me better than that. Please, believe me.”

“We believe you,” her mother said softly, but the sadness in her tone was heavier than accusation. “But the neighbors… they are saying all kinds of things.”

“I will fix it,” Sofia repeated, her voice breaking. “I promise, Inang.”

By the time she hung up, her seafarer brother, had messaged her too. What is this sht I am reading? Who is this Jacinto guy? Tell me where he is, I swear I’ll—*

She dropped her phone onto her desk, pressing her forehead against the cool wood. The world was closing in from every angle.

With trembling hands, she turned back to her email.

Subject: Clarification Request — Urgent

Her message was short, factual, painfully polite. She explained the false rumors, the mistaken identity, and asked Jacinto Group Communications to issue a statement denying her involvement. She read it three times, terrified of sounding desperate, then hit send.

For good measure, she dialed the number listed on their website. A secretary picked up, her voice smooth but distant.

“This is Sofia Reyes from Echelon Magazine,” she began, her voice shaking. “I… I need to speak to someone about the statements online linking me to Mr. Tristan Jacinto.”

A pause.

“I’ll forward your concern to the appropriate department,” the secretary said flatly. “Thank you.”

The line went dead.

Sofia sat there staring at her phone, her pulse pounding. No reassurance, no urgency, no acknowledgment. Just polite dismissal.

She folded her arms on her desk and lowered her head, fighting the urge to scream.

Her family thought she was ruined. The internet thought she was infamous. And Tristan Jacinto’s world, the one place that could clear her, did not even care.