PROLOGUE
Irish Vianna Montemayor
Someone once asked me, “What is love?”
Should I even answer that?
Love… is it business? Responsibility?
An arranged marriage? A strategic partnership for two powerful families?
Because that’s what they taught me.
That love is a chess move.
A name signed at the end of a contract.
A photo op beside a man I never chose.
I don’t know what love is.
Not really.
I only know expectations.
The weight of the Montemayor name.
My mother’s sharp eyes.
My father’s kind silence.
The pressure to always smile and nod.
I live in a mansion, but I’ve never felt at home.
I wear designer gowns, but none of them ever fit me.
I have a fiancé, but it was never love—it was an arrangement.
I have friends, yes.
I laugh. I attend galas.
I play the perfect daughter like it’s second nature.
But at the end of the day, I still lie awake, staring at my ceiling…
Wondering what love really means.
And why I’ve never been allowed to find it on my own.
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Janine Villafuerte
My life was never fancy.
I’m not the kind of girl who lives in glass mansions or dines with politicians.
I’m an artist.
An unfamous one, at that.
I paint. I sketch. I take commissions just to pay the bills.
Me and my Lola Luningning—we survive together.
Barely sometimes, but we make it.
Love?
Don’t talk to me about love.
It used to be beautiful, once.
Until it shattered, and left a scar I thought would never fade.
Since then, I promised myself: never again.
Never let anyone in that close.
Never love that hard.
Not until…
Her.
A girl I saw one afternoon at IMÉI.
She wasn’t like the rest of them—those polished, arrogant, untouchable rich kids.
She was... clumsy. Soft. Real.
She jumped into a dirty canal just to save a stray puppy, for crying out loud.
Didn’t even think twice.
Didn’t care that her pristine uniform was soaked and filthy.
I watched her smile at that pup like it was the most precious thing in the world.
And I thought, Damn.
That kind of heart?
I hadn’t seen that in years.
I told myself she was trouble.
I told myself not to care.
But the universe?
It has a funny way of pulling two broken pieces back together.
Even the ones that were never meant to fit.
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Will Irish and Janine find the love they’ve been hiding from?
Two souls tangled in silence, their hearts beating secrets only they can hear. But will the walls built by family, fear, and fate finally crumble?
Can they break free from the chains of arranged promises and painful pasts?
Irish, caught between duty and desire. Janine, scarred by love’s betrayals yet yearning for a second chance. Can their worlds collide without breaking apart?
Will they dare to risk everything for a love that defies expectations?
In a world that demands appearances, will they give each other the chance to heal and to love? Or will fear and circumstance keep them apart forever?
Are they destined to find daylight — or remain lost in shadows?
The questions will be answered... when you finally read Daylight.
