Chapter 7: The First Snap
1568 Words
The Monteverde estate awakened fully by afternoon.
Workers decorated the gardens with lanterns and white sampaguita for Don Alejandro’s birthday celebration. Caterers moved through the kitchens with military urgency while distant laughter echoed across the grounds.
From the veranda, the estate looked peaceful.
Gabriel had already learned peace in the Monteverde household was often deceptive.
He stood beside the railing with coffee in hand, watching preparations below.
And, annoyingly—
watching Lola.
She stood near the western garden speaking with contractors about lighting arrangements.
No raised voice.
No dramatic gestures.
Yet somehow people listened immediately.
She carried authority without demanding it.
He found that unsettlingly attractive.
“You’re staring again.”
Gabriel did not look away.
Bianca joined him on the veranda.
“I’m observing,” he said.
“That excuse is becoming tired.”
“She’s working.”
“And you’re fascinated.”
He sighed.
“You enjoy inventing stories.”
Bianca leaned against the railing.
“No. I enjoy recognizing obvious ones.”
He finally looked at her.
“This arrangement has made you arrogant.”
“Our arrangement,” she corrected, “depends on believable affection.”
“There is no affection.”
“Ouch.”
He smirked faintly.
Bianca followed his gaze again.
Lola had crouched near a garden display, discussing flower placement with staff.
The scene should have looked ordinary.
Instead—
she looked strangely luminous beneath afternoon light.
“You know what’s dangerous?” Bianca asked.
He ignored the question.
“You underestimate women who don’t pursue attention.”
Gabriel remained silent.
Because Bianca had noticed something he preferred denying.
Lola never performed.
And perhaps—
that was precisely why she stayed inside his thoughts.
Below, Lola finished speaking with workers and stood brushing soil from her hands.
Bella approached carrying fresh buko juice.
“You have an audience.”
Lola accepted the drink.
“That sounds unfortunate.”
Bella tilted her head toward the veranda.
“Imported audience.”
Lola followed her gaze.
Gabriel stood above with Bianca.
For one brief second—
their eyes met.
Then Lola calmly looked away.
Bella groaned.
“You do that deliberately.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend he doesn’t exist.”
“I acknowledge gravity and weather. I simply don’t romance them.”
Bella laughed.
“You know he watches you.”
“People watch many things.”
“But not like that.”
Lola took a sip.
She had noticed.
Of course she had.
Gabriel watched carefully.
Not hungrily.
Not shamelessly.
But with quiet concentration.
As though trying to understand something.
And that—
if she admitted honestly—
made her slightly uneasy.
Not because she feared him.
But because curiosity often preceded complication.
And she valued uncomplicated living.
Too much perhaps.
Bella nudged her.
“So?”
“So what?”
“Do you find him attractive?”
Lola sighed.
“You ask this daily.”
“And you avoid answering honestly daily.”
She looked toward the gardens.
Handsome?
Certainly.
Intelligent?
Clearly.
Interesting?
Unfortunately.
But attraction alone meant little.
She had learned that through centuries of mistakes.
“He’s appealing,” she admitted.
Bella gasped dramatically.
“A confession.”
“But,” Lola continued, “he also looks accustomed to admiration.”
“And?”
“And men who receive too much admiration become careless.”
Bella studied her.
“You sound like experience talking.”
If only she knew.
Lola smiled quietly.
“Observation.”
That evening, guests began arriving for Alejandro Monteverde’s birthday celebration.
The estate transformed beneath lantern light.
Luxury cars rolled through the gates while musicians played soft jazz beneath open tents. Politicians, business owners, and provincial families mingled beneath old acacia trees.
The Monteverde name carried gravity.
And tonight—
that gravity gathered people.
Lola stood inside the ancestral house adjusting pearl earrings.
Her gown was midnight blue.
Simple.
Elegant.
The silk followed her figure without excess.
She rarely dressed to impress.
But formal occasions required diplomacy.
Bella stared openly.
“I hate you.”
“That seems dramatic.”
“You look criminal.”
Lola laughed.
“You exaggerate.”
“No,” Bella said. “You look like heartbreak disguised as elegance.”
Lola shook her head.
“You consume too many romance novels.”
“Unlike someone.”
Before Lola could answer, Celestina entered.
And immediately stopped.
The older woman’s eyes softened.
“You look beautiful.”
Lola smiled.
“Thank you.”
Celestina approached and adjusted a loose strand of hair near her temple.
The gesture carried maternal tenderness.
And something inside Lola quietly warmed.
“How are you feeling?” Celestina asked.
“About?”
“The guests. Tonight.”
“I’ll survive.”
“You sound brave.”
“I sound practical.”
Celestina laughed softly.
“You always do.”
Then her gaze turned thoughtful.
“You know,” she said gently, “sometimes practicality becomes armor.”
Lola met her eyes.
Perhaps.
But armor existed for reasons.
Before the conversation could deepen, Bella interrupted.
“We should go downstairs before society begins gossiping.”
“Too late,” Celestina murmured.
“Society was born gossiping.”
Downstairs, Gabriel adjusted his cufflinks and regretted formal clothing.
Bianca emerged from the guest room wearing champagne-colored satin.
“You clean up nicely.”
“I hate parties.”
“You hate emotional vulnerability.”
“Also parties.”
She smiled.
“You look nervous.”
“I am surrounded by politicians.”
“No,” Bianca said.
“You’re looking for someone.”
He frowned.
“I’m not.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Before he answered—
voices drifted from the staircase.
And then—
Gabriel looked up.
Everything around him seemed to quiet.
Lola descended the staircase beside Bella.
The soft lantern light caught her gown while conversation around the foyer slowed almost imperceptibly.
Beautiful.
No.
That word felt insufficient.
She looked composed in a way that unsettled him.
As though elegance had simply become part of her nature.
Men noticed.
Immediately.
Gabriel disliked how quickly he noticed them noticing.
Bianca saw his expression and nearly sighed.
Ah.
There it was.
The first real c***k.
Lola reached the foyer and greeted guests with polite warmth.
Then her eyes found Gabriel.
No dramatic pause.
No fluttering awareness.
Just recognition.
And somehow—
that calm affected him more than admiration ever could.
“You look lovely,” Bianca said warmly when they approached.
“Thank you.”
Bella grinned.
“And you look expensive.”
Bianca laughed.
“I paid to.”
Gabriel looked at Lola.
“You clean up well.”
The remark escaped before he filtered it.
Her eyebrow lifted.
“That implies uncertainty.”
His mouth twitched.
“I meant it as praise.”
“Then thank you.”
Again—
that composed politeness.
He found himself wanting to disturb it.
Dangerous impulse.
Alejandro soon gathered everyone for photographs and introductions.
The evening flowed smoothly.
Until Matteo Arrieta arrived.
And something shifted.
He was handsome, wealthy, and undeniably polished.
The son of an influential family with business interests across Luzon.
More importantly—
he knew Lola.
“Lola.”
Matteo approached with easy familiarity.
Her expression softened politely.
“Matteo.”
He kissed her hand lightly.
“You look stunning.”
“Thank you.”
Gabriel watched from nearby.
An irrational discomfort surfaced.
Matteo smiled.
“I brought your favorite mango tarts from Manila.”
Bella muttered quietly,
“Oh no.”
Lola sighed.
“You still remember that?”
“I remember many things about you.”
The familiarity bothered Gabriel more than it should.
Bianca noticed immediately.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Matteo continued speaking with confident warmth.
Too comfortable.
Too practiced.
And unexpectedly—
Gabriel disliked him.
Not logically.
Simply instinctively.
Alejandro approached.
“Matteo! Good to see you.”
The younger man greeted him respectfully before glancing toward Gabriel.
“Ah. The famous son returns.”
Gabriel extended his hand.
“Gabriel Monteverde.”
“Matteo Arrieta.”
Their handshake was polite.
Firm.
Measured.
And quietly competitive.
Bianca nearly smiled.
Men.
Matteo looked toward Lola.
“We were discussing dinner next week.”
Lola blinked.
“We were?”
“You haven’t rejected it yet.”
Her lips curved faintly.
“Optimistic interpretation.”
Matteo laughed.
Gabriel watched her carefully.
And for reasons he did not entirely understand—
he wanted to know whether she laughed differently around this man.
The realization annoyed him.
Bianca leaned closer.
“You dislike him.”
“I don’t know him.”
“You don’t need to.”
Gabriel ignored her.
But Bianca had already identified the problem.
This was no longer simple curiosity.
No.
Something subtler had begun.
Possessiveness?
Not yet.
Interest?
Certainly.
And Gabriel—
accustomed to controlling situations—
had not realized he was already stepping toward dangerous ground.
Meanwhile, Lola observed the gathering with quiet awareness.
And noticed something unusual.
Gabriel seemed irritated.
Not openly.
Just slightly sharper.
His attention drifted too often toward Matteo.
Strange.
Why should he care?
The thought amused her.
Perhaps male ego functioned universally across centuries.
Yet as laughter and music filled the estate—
a peculiar feeling settled inside her.
A warning.
Not fear.
Only instinct.
Because life had taught her something repeatedly—
The beginning of trouble rarely announced itself loudly.
Sometimes—
it arrived smiling beneath lantern light.
And watching her from across the garden.
- Writer
