Collision of Hearts

Chapter 19

Damon’s Mansion, Forbes Park – Three Days After the Shooting

The soft velvet box sat between us. Quiet. Heavy. Full of promises I wasn’t ready to touch.

Damon knelt in front of me — still in the same navy suit he wore when he flew back from Singapore, still with that rawness in his eyes na hindi ko na halos makita nung mga nakaraang linggo.

Walang grand setup. Walang violin, walang candles.

Just us.

Wrecked.

Breathing.

Alive.

“Marry me,” he said quietly.

I stared at him. Hindi ko alam kung anong mas malakas — ang t***k ng puso ko o ang takot na bigla kong naramdaman sa gitna ng katahimikan.

“I almost lost you, Skyra. Twice,” he continued, voice tight. “I can't—” he swallowed hard, “—I can’t do this anymore. Not without knowing you’re mine.”

I tried to speak, pero walang lumabas.

Damon opened the box. Inside, the ring sparkled like it held his soul. A black diamond in a platinum setting — elegant, dark, unmistakably him.

“I’m not doing this for control. Or power. I’m doing this because I need you. Because I choose you. Every damn time.”

My throat closed up. Every word he said... part of me wanted to say yes. To fall into his arms. To let everything finally feel safe.

But another part of me — the girl who survived betrayals, bullets, and boardroom wars — screamed.

“Damon…”

His eyes flickered. “Say yes.”

I closed the lid of the box slowly. “I can’t.”

Silence.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t blink.

And then— “Why?”

“Because this—” I gestured between us, “—whatever we have, it’s still built on fire and ruins. We haven’t even begun to heal.”

“So what?” His voice sharpened. “You’d rather we keep pretending this is just s*x? Just survival?”

“No!” I snapped. “But I’m not ready to be someone’s wife just because I almost died!”

His face twisted. “This isn’t pity, Skyra.”

“I know it’s not. But it’s panic. Guilt. Fear. Don’t deny it.”

His jaw clenched. “You think that’s all this is?”

“I don’t know anymore!”

He stood up so fast the chair beside me tipped slightly. “You say you trust me, but the moment I try to anchor us—you run.”

“I’m not running—”

“Then what do you call this?” He grabbed the ring box, slammed it on the coffee table. “You act like we have forever. We don’t. One more bullet, one more betrayal, and we’re f*cking gone!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” I screamed.

We were yelling now. Faces flushed. Eyes wild.

“You think I haven’t imagined your coffin every time you step on a goddamn jet? I’m scared too, Damon!”

“Then say yes! Let me protect you, damn it!”

“I don’t need a ring to feel safe!”

“But I do,” he growled. “I need to know you’re mine, Skyra. Officially. Publicly. Permanently.”

“I’m already yours!” I shouted.

He stared at me. Breathing hard.

Then, almost in slow motion, I picked up the box... and threw it back toward him.

It landed on the rug with a muted thud.

And that was it.

His jaw locked. His eyes went dead.

Without another word, Damon turned around and walked out — the front door slamming behind him like thunder.

I stood there, shaking, half-sobbing, half-silent, the echo of the ring box louder than any explosion I’d survived.

And when I finally collapsed on the couch, alone in his mansion…

I realized something that terrified me more than the proposal.

I wanted him back.

But I didn’t know how to say it.

The house was quiet.

But my heart wasn’t.

It had been hours since Damon walked out. Since I threw back the ring and shattered something we hadn’t even fully built yet.

The worst part?

I loved him.

But I still said no.

I sank into the leather couch, pulling one of his jackets around my shoulders. It smelled like him — smoke, sandalwood, control. The kind of scent that lingered long after the man was gone.

Like tonight.

He hadn’t called. Not once.

And I didn’t blame him.

Because how could I explain the truth?

That love… isn’t always enough.

That I wasn’t saying no to him.

I was saying no to the timing.

To the fear.

To the weight of everything still unfinished between us.

I was still learning how to be me again — after the crash, after Elian’s betrayal, after all the bullets and burns. I needed to know who I was without being Damon Velasquez’s wife first.

Pero yun ang hindi maintindihan ni Damon.

To him, the proposal was a vow. A lifeline. A way to finally silence all the chaos around us.

To me, it was another decision I wasn’t ready to make — not when my hands still shook at night, not when my body bore scars I hadn’t named.

Mahal ko siya.

God, I did.

But that wasn’t the question.

The question was — could I say yes to forever, when I was still patching together my now?

The silence gnawed at me.

I opened my phone, reread the last message he sent before the fight.

“I’m flying in early. Wait for me. I’ll come straight to you.”

He had.

And I broke him anyway.

Suddenly, the door creaked.

My heart leapt.

But it wasn’t him.

Just Camila, tahimik na pumasok sa study, may mga dalang documents. Nang makita niya akong gising, she paused.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

I didn’t answer.

She didn’t push. Hinawakan lang niya ang balikat ko sandali. Then she left me alone again — with the ghosts of the words I didn’t say.

The ring was gone from my nightstand.

I didn’t know if he came back and took it… or if one of the staff quietly cleared it away after Damon left, like it was just another piece of debris from the wreckage we caused.

But I felt its absence like a phantom bruise on my chest.

For three days, we didn’t speak.

No calls. No messages. No angry footsteps down the hallway. No whispered apologies in the dark.

Just… silence.

Pagod na pagod ang katawan ko, pero hindi ko maramdaman ang tulog. My mind kept drifting — to that moment when he knelt in front of me, voice shaking, hand outstretched. The way his eyes pleaded with mine. The way his jaw clenched when I whispered "I can't say yes... not yet."

He didn’t ask why.

He just stood.

Then walked away like I stabbed him.

And maybe I did.

So I buried myself in work.

Camila booked back-to-back meetings, board briefings, expansion strategy updates. I filled every hour with noise. With numbers. With decisions that didn’t ache like love did.

But even in the noise, I looked for him.

Every time I stepped outside my office, my eyes instinctively scanned the hallway for his shadow. Every time I heard a chopper land, I wondered if it was his. Every time my phone vibrated, I hoped it would be his name.

But it never was.

DAMON POV

Velasquez Global Headquarters, Singapore Branch – Executive War Room

“She’s stabilized,” Cassian reported, eyes on the screen. “But Reyes said she hasn’t left the Monteverde Tower in days.”

I said nothing.

Just stared at the map — a digital rendering of the Manila skyline, blinking red trackers embedded in the building’s surveillance grid. One of them pulsed with Skyra’s location. Still. Quiet.

“She’s not in danger,” Cassian added. “Just… unresponsive.”

“So am I,” I muttered.

“You’re not seriously planning to let this silence go on forever, right?”

I looked at him — eyes like stone. “She made her choice.”

“No. She made a pause.”

My fists clenched on the table. “She said no.”

“She said not yet.”

“There’s no f*****g difference when you’re bleeding.”

Cassian sighed, but didn’t push. “Your call.”

After he left, I stared at the screen again.

Skyra’s marker hadn’t moved in hours.

Neither had I.

My team didn’t know I hadn’t slept. That I hadn’t eaten. That I’d cancelled three international meetings just to stay in a city she no longer wanted to share with me.

I built entire surveillance networks to protect her.

But I couldn’t figure out how to reach her now.

And that… that terrified me more than any bullet.

SKYRA POV

Friday, 9:12 p.m.

I stared at the untouched dinner Camila left in the dining table. I hadn’t eaten all day. Again.

I hated this part of myself — the version that waited by the phone, that flinched every time a black car pulled up outside, that listened for footsteps that wouldn’t come.

I hated that I missed him.

But more than that… I hated that I hurt him.

I closed my laptop and walked to the window. From this high, Manila looked peaceful. Dazzling lights. Fast cars. No sign of the emotional c*****e beneath the glass.

But inside me?

Everything was chaos.

And I didn’t know how to fix it without breaking more.

The silence inside the mansion was deafening.

Walang yabag. Walang hangin. Wala ni isang tunog kundi ang mahinang tick ng antique wall clock sa hallway — and the uneven sound of my own breathing.

I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of our bedroom, barely dressed. Naka-silk robe lang ako, loosely tied, habang pinapanood ang mga ilaw ng Maynila mula sa malayo. The city didn’t stop. Not even when my world did.

Behind me, I heard the door creak.

No warning. No guards announcing him. No thunderous car engine in the driveway.

Just Damon.

He stepped into the bedroom without a word, his coat still on, his face hollow from days of silence.

Our eyes met in the reflection of the window.

Neither of us moved.

For days, we both buried ourselves in work. Surveillance meetings, legal consults, intel drops. We pretended like the other didn’t exist. Na parang hindi siya nag-propose. At hindi ko ibinalik ang singsing sa kanya — tulala at takot, kahit ramdam ko ang bawat t***k ng puso ko para sa kanya.

And yet… here we were again. On the edge of another storm.

He dropped his coat on the velvet chair, rolled up his sleeves. “Hindi ka man lang nagpadala ng text,” he said, voice rough.

“I didn’t know what to say.”

“'Yes’ would’ve been enough.”

I flinched.

He stepped closer. “I almost lost you, Skyra. Again. I offered you forever. And you—” he inhaled sharply, “you threw it away like it meant nothing.”

“I didn’t throw it away,” I said, turning to him. “I held it. I stared at it. I thought about what it meant. But I’m not ready.”

“That’s not what it looked like when you hurled the ring across the bedroom floor.”

“I was scared.”

“I was destroyed.”

I bit my lower lip, eyes burning. “I love you, Damon. But this—us—it’s messy. And violent. And raw. I don’t want to say yes out of fear.”

“And I don’t want to beg someone who doesn’t see a future with me,” he growled.

“That’s not true.”

“Then prove it.”

Silence.

Outside, lightning split the night sky. A soft rumble shook the bedroom glass.

Then—

His hands gripped my waist. Hard. Pulling me against him.

Our lips collided — wild, angry, broken.

He kissed me like he hated me.

And I kissed him like I couldn’t breathe without him.

The silk robe fell open, baring me to the chilled air. But I didn’t care. I only felt his body — warm, trembling, furious.

He backed me into the massive four-poster bed, carved from mahogany, with black sheets and silver-trimmed pillows. His mouth never left mine. He unbuckled his belt, undid his slacks, and shoved them down — all while pushing my robe off my shoulders.

“Do you still want me?” he whispered harshly.

“Yes,” I breathed. “Always.”

“Then stop running.”

He flipped me onto my back, spread my thighs, and slammed into me in one deep, merciless thrust.

I gasped — loud, raw, desperate.

“Damon—!”

“Tell me this means something,” he growled, f*****g me hard into the mattress, the headboard slamming against the wall with each furious stroke.

“It does—f**k—God, it does—!”

His hands grabbed my wrists, pinning them above my head, his body heavy over mine. Our sweat mixed, our breath tangled, and all I could hear was the sound of skin on skin, the brutal rhythm of two people drowning in each other.

We broke the silence in the only language we knew: possession.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. My nails scratched down his back. He didn’t stop. Not even when I screamed his name. Not even when he did.

We came in sync — bodies convulsing, gasping each other’s names, too wrecked to even cry.

And when it was over, when the storm passed, we lay on that bed in silence again.

But this time, we were breathing the same air.

We didn’t fix anything that night.

But we reminded each other what was worth staying for.

The silence after s*x was louder than the moans that came before it.

Nakahiga ako sa gitna ng king-sized bed, ang katawan ko'y nilalambot pa rin ng ilang minutong matinding pagtatalik. My thighs were trembling. My skin—still flushed, still aching. And beside me, Damon lay with his forearm covering his eyes, his chest rising and falling heavily.

He was still catching his breath. But I could feel it—yung init, yung bigat ng hindi pa rin niya mabitawang sakit.

I turned slightly, facing him.

"Damon..." bulong ko, halos hindi ko narinig ang sarili kong boses.

His arm didn’t move. But his jaw clenched.

I swallowed.

"What just happened... it wasn’t just s*x, right?"

Finally, he turned his head toward me. His eyes were red—not just from lust. But from something deeper. Something broken.

“You really need to ask that?” he rasped.

I winced.

He sat up slowly, pulling the sheet with him. His back faced me now, muscles tense, his hand running through his hair in frustration.

“I came home to you,” he said quietly. “After days of pretending I wasn’t hurting.”

I sat up, too, holding the sheet against my chest. “I was hurting too.”

“Then why did it feel like ako lang ang iniwan?” he snapped, eyes finally meeting mine again.

My throat tightened. “Because I needed to breathe, Damon. Everything was moving too fast. The shooting, the proposal, your silence... I needed time to process.”

“You think I didn’t?” His voice cracked. “Skyra, do you know what it did to me to see you bleed again? To hold you in my arms, terrified that any second... you’d stop breathing?”

My heart dropped.

He stood from the bed, pacing. “You think that ring was just about romance? That it was some possessive move to trap you?”

“I never said that—”

“No, but you treated it like poison.” His fists curled. “Like I was asking you to give up your power, your freedom, your identity.”

Tears welled up in my eyes.

“I wasn’t saying no to you, Damon,” I said, voice trembling. “I was saying no to a version of myself that’s still healing.”

Silence again.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

Then, in a softer voice, he asked, “Do you love me?”

I nodded, tears sliding down my cheeks. “God, yes. So much it scares me.”

He exhaled shakily. “Then don’t push me away when I offer you forever.”

I reached out, touching his hand.

“I just need time,” I whispered. “But I want that forever too. Just... not out of fear. Not after almost dying.”

His jaw worked, but he didn’t pull away.

Instead, he sat down beside me again. Our foreheads touched. Our hands intertwined.

“No more running,” he murmured.

“No more assumptions,” I countered.

His lips brushed my temple. “We’ll fix it.”

“I want to.”

“I need to.”

We stayed like that—two powerful, stubborn souls bruised by love, but too tethered to ever let go.

And for once... the silence wasn’t heavy.

It was healing.

Kinabukasan, pagkagising ko nasa ibabaw ko na si Damon—ang bigat ng katawan nito’y sapat lang para maramdaman ko ang presensya nito sa bawat hibla ng kanyang balat. Ngunit hindi pa rin ito bumaba ng tuluyan. Binibitin siya. Pinapainit ang bawat sandali.

“Open your legs for me,” utos nito, mababa ang boses, halos growl.

Dahan-dahan siyang sumunod. Nanginginig. Hindi sa takot—kundi sa anticipation. Sa pagkasabik. Sa katiyakang anumang gawin ni Damon, ay para lamang sa kanya.

Hinawakan siya nito sa magkabilang hita, pinuwersa nang bahagya, binuka siya nang mas malapad.

“Good girl,” bulong ni Damon, proud sa pagkakaalipin ni Skyra sa kanyang bisig. “You know who you belong to.”

Mula sa leeg hanggang dibdib, paulit-ulit na sinupsop ni Damon ang balat ni Skyra. Hindi basta halik—ito’y marka. Mga bakas ng pag-aari. Bawat kagat, bawat sipsip, ay may layuning ipaalala sa kanya kung sino ang nagpapaligaya sa kanya, kung sino ang hari ng katawan niya.

Pagdating sa dibdib, sinapo niya ito—isang kamay sa kaliwa, ang isa'y lamas sa kanan. Dila sa u***g, paikot, pasipsip. Ang isa nama’y pinipisil-pisil, pinapagalaw sa ritmo ng hininga ni Skyra.

“Damon… s**t…” ungol ni Skyra, nanginginig na.

“Say my name like you mean it,” aniya, habang nilalaro ang u***g nito gamit ang dila. “Say it like you need me.”

“Damon, please. Please…”

“Please what?”

“Taste me. Please…”

Lumuhod siya sa pagitan ng mga hita ni Skyra. Tumingin sa kanya, tinatantya ang bawat pulso ng kahandaan nito.

At nang sabay nilang maramdaman ang tensyon—dumampi ang dila ni Damon.

Mula sa ibabaw, marahan ang pagdampi. Paikot. Pababa. Papasok. Pinapasadahan ang buong p********e ni Skyra—walang iniwan, walang pinalampas.

Ang mga daliri niya’y pumasok habang patuloy ang bibig sa paghimod—magkasabay ang galaw. Mabagal sa simula, tapos biglaang lalalim. Bawat pasok ng daliri’y may kasamang sipsip ng dila sa kanyang sensitibong laman.

“Don’t move,” utos nito, nang napasigaw si Skyra sa sarap.

“I—I can’t—”

“You will. Because I said so.”

At ipinagpatuloy niya. Parang pinipiga ang kaluluwa ni Skyra gamit ang dila’t daliri. Hanggang sa...

Napaangat si Skyra, nanginginig ang katawan. Hindi alam kung saan kakapit. Sa unan. Sa likod ni Damon. Sa sarili niyang dibdib. Ngunit bago pa siya lubusang maabot ang sukdulan—

Hinugot ni Damon ang daliri’t dila.

Napairi si Skyra. “Why?!”

“I said I’ll take my time,” mahinang sagot ni Damon, habang dinidilaan ang sariling labi. “You’ll come when I say you can.”

Nang ipasok siya ni Damon, hindi na ito dahan-dahan. Hindi brutal—pero malinaw ang intensyon. Wala nang pagpipigil. Wala nang pagsuyo. Ito ay pag-angkin.

Habang nasa loob siya, hinawakan ni Damon ang magkabilang kamay ni Skyra at inilapat sa kama sa ulunan nito. Ipinako. Pinanatili.

“Look at me,” utos nito.

At habang umiindayog, bawat ulos ay malalim—walang sinayang.

“You’re not allowed to come unless I say so.”

“Please… Damon… I can’t hold it…”

“I said… not yet.”

Mabagal sa simula. Tapos biglang bibilis. Malalim. Madiin. Paulit-ulit.

Si Skyra, umiiyak sa sarap. Si Damon, umuungol sa bawat salubong ng laman.

“You can come now,” bulong ni Damon, habang pinalaya ang isang kamay ni Skyra at dinaklot ang pisngi nito. “Let me feel you fall apart.”

At parang tinamaan ng kidlat si Skyra. Napasigaw siya. Napakapit sa buhok ni Damon. Niyakap siya ng buong lakas habang tinatanggap ang unang putok ng init sa kanyang kaloob-looban.

“Damon… oh, my God…”

“You’re mine,” ulit nito, sabay diin ng huling ulos. “Only mine.”

Habang pinapahid ni Damon ang luha ni Skyra, nakapatong pa rin siya dito. Nakatitig sa mga mata niya.

Ang bintana’y nakabukas pa rin. Ang hangin malamig. Ngunit sa pagitan nila, ang apoy ay buhay na buhay.

Nakahiga siya sa malambot na kama, hubad, balot lang ng puting comforter na amoy ni Damon—isang halo ng sandalwood, skin, at s*x. Bahagyang mahapdi ang kanyang katawan—lalo na ang pagitan ng hita—pero hindi masakit.

Kundi masarap.

Tumagilid siya. At nandoon si Damon. Nakahubad din, nakatalikod, pero ang kamay ay nakapatong sa kanyang balakang—parang kahit sa panaginip, ayaw siyang pakawalan.

Dumilat si Damon nang maramdaman ang paggalaw niya.

“Good morning,” garalgal ang boses, paos mula sa dami ng mga ungol kagabi.

“Good morning,” sagot ni Skyra, pabulong.

Hindi siya agad nagsalita. Pinagmasdan niya ang mukha ng lalaki—basang buhok, bahagyang may galos sa leeg niya, kagat mula sa sobrang sarap.

“Did I hurt you?” tanong nito, maingat na hinagod ang kanyang hita gamit ang likod ng kamay.

She smiled softly. “You ruined me… perfectly.”

Hindi na siya nagsuot ng kahit ano.

Dumapa si Damon. Humalik sa kanyang balikat. Dumaan ang labi sa batok, pababa sa likod. Dahan-dahan. Hindi marahas—kundi parang sumasamba.

Bumaba pa. Umabot sa puwitan.

“You’re sore,” bulong niya.

“Yes.”

“Do you want more?”

Skyra turned her head. “Only if it’s like this…”

Damon didn’t answer. He moved.

He kissed her spine, vertebrae by vertebrae.

Hanggang sa makarating sa kanyang puwitan—at marahang kinagat ito.

“Damon…” she gasped.

“I’ll be gentle.”

Tumuwad si Skyra nang kusa, mabagal, habang ang tuhod niya’y lumubog sa kutson.

Pumasok si Damon sa kanya—banayad, mabagal, parang sinasalo ang buong kaluluwa niya, hindi lang ang katawan.

Walang pagmamadali.

Walang pilit.

Walang init ng galit o libog na kontrolado.

Ito ay kilalang-kilala.

Ito ay pag-aari na may basbas ng pagmamahal.

Ang isang kamay ni Damon ay nasa baywang niya. Ang isa, sa tyan niya—pinipisil, hinahaplos habang siya’y gumagalaw.

“Skyra,” bulong niya. “You feel like home.”

Tumulo ang luha ng babae. Hindi dahil sa sakit—kundi dahil sa wakas, minamahal siya hindi lang ng katawan kundi pati ng buong damdamin.

Bawat ulos ni Damon ay sinasalubong ni Skyra. Mabagal pero malalim. Hanggang sa maramdaman nilang sabay na silang lalabasan.

“You’re safe with me,” bulong niya habang nakasubsob sa balikat niya.

“I know,” ungol ni Skyra, tinatanggap ang lahat ng sensasyon.

And when they came—sabay, mahina, nanginginig—hindi ito isang pagsabog… kundi parang pag-ulan sa disyertong uhaw.

Tahimik. Malalim. Buhay.

Hindi siya agad binunot. Pinatuloy niya ang katawan sa likod ni Skyra, hanggang sila’y magkadikit, magkahugpong pa rin.

Hinawakan niya ang mukha nito. Hinalikan ang likod ng tainga. At sa gitna ng liwanag ng araw…

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered.

Ni hindi na kailangan ng sagot.