Chapter 1: Username Not Found
663 Words
Twenty-six-year-old Kara Monteverde wasn’t your typical boss’s daughter. She was rich, yes—heiress to Monteverde Department Store empire—but she worked hard to prove she wasn’t just a pretty face with a gold spoon.
Well… maybe she still loved gold spoons.
“Miss Kara, late ka na naman,” bulong ni Lani, her assistant, habang inaayos ang projector sa boardroom.
Kara strolled in like it was a runway—long wavy hair curled to perfection, tailored blush pink blazer, and heels sharp enough to cut egos. She held her iced americano like a trophy, one eyebrow arched, lips glossed to kill.
“I’m not late,” she said with a wink. “The meeting is just… emotionally unprepared for my presence.”
She was bubbly, confident, and known for her witty remarks. But her eyes? They gave away the tiniest trace of something else—someone who had walls too high for people to climb easily.
Kara was used to being the center of attention. That’s why the sudden hush in the office confused her.
“May bago tayong strategic director,” bulong ni Lani. “From HQ. Parang robot daw. No sense of humor. Super strict. Like, ‘You breathe wrong, you’re fired’ level.”
Kara rolled her eyes. “Another broody corporate clone? Challenge accepted.”
The elevator chimed.
Everyone turned. Out walked a tall, lean man in an all-black suit. Mid to late twenties. Chinito eyes, slightly messy hair na parang di sinuklay pero bagay pa rin. Serious face. No smile. No expression. Just... intensity.
“I’m Ace Navarro,” he said flatly, placing a folder on the desk with precision. “Effective today, I’ll be overseeing strategic planning for Monteverde Group.”
His voice was calm but low-key intimidating—like he didn’t raise his tone to prove power. It was just there. Automatic.
Kara tilted her head. “Huh,” she muttered. “He looks like someone who irons his socks.”
Ace’s eyes flickered toward her. Did he hear that? But he said nothing. Instead, he turned to the whiteboard and began scribbling projections like a robot who read too many business journals.
Kara stared. Weirdly familiar, she thought. Where have I seen that resting-deadpan-face before?
Later that night, Kara flopped onto her bed, changed into her bunny pajamas, and logged into Valorian Vortex—her stress reliever since college. There, she used to go head-to-head with a certain “Nightmare9,” a ruthless gamer who annoyed the heck out of her for years. Their rivalry was legendary—him with his unbeatable moves, and her with her dramatic threats to “report you for emotional damage!”
“Time to win tonight,” she whispered, entering the match room.
But just before the game began, a system message popped up:
User: Nightmare9 — Account Not Found.
“Huh? Wala na siya?” she frowned. “Ang daya naman. Di pa kami tapos!”
She stared at her screen longer than necessary, confused why it felt like losing a piece of her chaotic childhood.
The next morning, Kara was exactly 15 minutes late for their team meeting.
Ace didn’t even look up. “You’re late.”
She tossed her notebook on the table and smiled. “You're early.”
That earned her a glare. But it didn’t stop her. They went back and forth the entire meeting—her with creative pitch ideas, him countering with analytics and timelines. It was clear: they were opposites.
Until Kara, in a half-whisper, muttered under her breath: “This plan’s more predictable than Nightmare9’s ambushes.”
Ace paused.
He finally looked up. Eyes narrowing, a flicker of a smirk forming on his lips.
“You play Valorian Vortex?” he asked coolly.
Kara blinked. “Wait. How do you—”
He leaned slightly forward. “Because I used to kill you in every match.”
Her mouth dropped.
He leaned back, smug. “Hi, StrawberryMilk17.”
Boom.
- Writer
