Confidential

Chapter Eight

BGC’s skyline shimmered under the late afternoon sun, glass, chrome, and ego polished to perfection.

The Elizalde Tower rose above them all, its name glinting in gold lettering near the top. It wasn’t just an office building; it was a statement. The empire of one man carved into the Manila skyline.

Sari stood across the street, sunglasses on, coffee cup in hand, studying it like a predator sizing up her prey.

She knew Mariella would’ve killed her if she found out what she was about to do. But Sari had never been good at waiting, especially not when she was being stonewalled by arrogant men in suits.

She was done with polite emails and blocked calls.

If Matthew Elizalde wouldn’t give her an appointment, she’d make her own.

The plan was reckless, borderline insane, really, but she’d done worse during her hospital days in London. Back then, she and her friends had a fake ID system they’d used to sneak into exclusive bars and events. Not for fun, but for anonymity. They were medical interns, young doctors, recognizable, respectable. Their reputations mattered. Sometimes it was easier to be someone else for a night.

And now, that same fake ID was about to buy her entry into one of the most powerful buildings in the country.

She straightened her blazer, tucked her ID card into the lanyard, and walked through the glass doors like she belonged there.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” the front desk receptionist said with a polite smile. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes,” Sari lied smoothly. “Dr. Celine Navarro. I’m expected at the Elizalde Group board office.”

The receptionist checked the screen, brows furrowing slightly, but before she could ask more, Sari leaned in with that practiced London confidence. “It’s confidential. Internal consultation. I’m sure you understand.”

The receptionist blinked, then nodded uncertainly. “Of course, ma’am. Fourteenth floor. Please proceed.”

Sari smiled faintly. “Thank you.”

The elevator doors closed around her, and she let out the breath she’d been holding.

By the time she reached the top floor, her heart was steady again. She adjusted her ponytail, sleek and tight, and stepped into the hallway like she owned it. Her reflection in the mirrored wall caught her eye: crisp black blazer, pressed white shirt, tailored trousers. She looked less like a doctor and more like a professor about to fail someone on purpose.

When she turned the corner, she saw him.

Through the floor-to-ceiling glass of his office, Matthew Elizalde sat behind his massive desk, controller in hand, leaning back in his chair, completely immersed in a game. A PS5.

Sari stopped, blinking once, then twice. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The CEO of Metroline. The billionaire who’d sued her family for twenty million dollars. The man responsible for turning her life upside down, was playing PlayStation.

The absurdity of it was almost funny. Almost.

She stepped forward, intent on walking straight in, but before she could reach the door, a voice stopped her.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

Sari turned to find a tall woman in a fitted black skirt standing between her and the office. The secretary. Perfect posture, polite smile, eyes like a wall.

“Yes?” Sari said coolly.

“Mr. Elizalde isn’t taking visitors.”

“I’m not a visitor,” Sari replied. “I’m here to speak with him directly regarding the lawsuit.”

The woman’s polite smile faltered. “Then you need to contact Ardent Lex Group. They handle all his legal matters.”

Sari gave a dry laugh. “Oh, I’ve tried. They’re about as useful as a brick wall. So now I’m here.”

“Mr. Elizalde is busy.”

Sari raised an eyebrow, pointing toward the glass. “Busy? I can literally see him. He’s in the middle of a game.”

The secretary’s jaw tightened, professionalism beginning to crack. “Regardless, he’s not available.”

Sari’s voice dropped an octave, calm but edged. “You do realize that denying me access while he’s playing video games doesn’t exactly scream professionalism?”

The woman folded her arms. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave before I call security.”

Sari tilted her head slightly. “Of course. Can’t interrupt the king while he’s slaying digital dragons.”

She turned to leave, but just then, the elevator pinged open behind her.

A woman stepped out. Long legs. Gold dress. Hair curled to perfection. Perfume so thick it arrived before she did.

The secretary’s entire demeanor changed in a heartbeat. She smiled, warmly, even. “Good afternoon, Ms. Ramirez. Go right in.”

The woman didn’t even glance at Sari as she breezed past, heels clicking, hips swaying, gold fabric glittering under the lights. The glass door opened automatically, and she slipped inside Matthew’s office without a word.

Sari’s mouth curled into a cold smile. “So let me guess, being slutty earns you express entry?”

The secretary’s polite mask snapped. “Security.”

Two men in black suits appeared almost immediately, the kind who probably doubled as nightclub bouncers.

Sari raised her hands slightly. “Relax. I’m leaving.”

As they escorted her toward the elevator, she glanced back one last time.

Through the glass wall, she caught a glimpse of Matthew, still in his chair, still holding that controller, smirking as the woman in gold leaned against his desk, laughing at something he said.

Sari turned away before the elevator doors closed, her jaw tight, her anger sharper than ever.

He wasn’t just arrogant. He was untouchable.And that made her all the more determined to hit where it hurt.