Semua Bab ALMS TO LOVE: Bab 141 - Bab 150

Taguig past midnight dressed in bruised beauty—glass skyscrapers half-illuminated, the river flowing black underneath the lights of the bridges, the haze thick with fumes and rain ghosts.Marie Drams drove alone, a low hum of tires on asphalt the only sound inside her car. The city blurred past in fragments: billboards, bridges, silhouettes of stray dogs in the alleys. The farther she went, the less Makati’s polish followed her.Her phone buzzed once.Unknown: Pier 7. Come alone.She parked near the old freight pier, slipped out in heels that clicked too loudly on the wet concrete, and pulled her coat tighter. Beyond the docked barges, a lone figure waited—backlit by the sodium glow of a single lamppost. Smoke curled from his cigarette.“You’re late,” he said, voice rough, amused.Marie stopped several paces away. “And you’re playing games.”The man smiled quietly. "You created them. I merely clean up after you scatter." He flipped the cigarette into the water. "You handled the leak r

She had no idea yet, but the war was already underway.When the dawn finally took Makati by the throat, the Billion Estate was a fortress buzzing under quiet. Guards at the gate, lawyers in the parlor, and within, Madam Jamaica sat in front of an untouched cup of coffee, reading the morning paper as though it were a weapon.The headline had shifted once more."THE BILLION SCANDAL DEEPENS: Source Speaks of False Charity Fund Linked to Fiona Generys."She did not bat an eye. She simply breathed, "Marie, you're moving quicker than I anticipated."On the other side of the ocean, in Paris, Fiona awoke to a barrage of messages and missed calls, her phone shaking incessantly on the nightstand. Her hands shook as she scanned the words. "False charity fund." "Fraud." "Gold-digger."Charles stood by the window, jaw set, talking low into his phone."Shut it down," he told someone on the other end. "Everything. Every outlet that publishes that headline gets a cease-and-desist by noon."Then softe

The Paris FalloutThe rain had not let up since morning.Paris was blanketed beneath a gray shroud of drizzle, the Eiffel Tower a faint shadow on the horizon. Within the Hôtel du Rivière, the world seemed paused—muted rugs, gilt sconces, the distant hum of traffic outside. Liza slept on the couch, a small form wrapped beneath a blanket, steady breathing, pale eyelashes fluttering occasionally as if dreaming.Valeria crept quietly around the suite, her robe cinched tight, bare feet. The day had started like any other room service trays, the smell of chamomile tea but the TV altered everything.BREAKING NEWS FROM MANILA," the voice of the reporter announced in clean English across the flicker of monitors. "A confidential family source has exposed stunning accusations that Charles Billion, the billionaire heir, and academic Fiona Generys married after a contractual agreement one made in return for the medical care of Generys' daughter.".Valeria stopped in her tracks. On screen, Fiona's

The rain had slowed to a stop by the time Valeria emerged from the taxi, but Paris still shone streets glistening with silver, the air heavy with the smell of wet stone and jasmine. Her high heels struck the pavement with silent urgency as she moved across the courtyard of the Hotel Grand Lumière, every part of her body taut from what she'd just learned.Within the marble foyer, chandeliers shed gold across the floor like shattered glass. She moved past the front desk silently, her heartbeat even but her gaze keen. The man she'd first seen earlier in that darkened office the "informant"hadn't lied. His evidence had been too precise, his tone too knowing. Marie Drams's fingers were on the leak, but another was magnifying it. Someone with enough clout to make fact seem like smoke.The doors of the elevator slid open. Valeria pushed the button for the top floor, cradling her phone in her hand.Upon arriving at the suite, she paused, smoothed out her coat, and knocked twice.Charles opene

Charles took a breath. "We did not anticipate them to break into the private terminal.""You didn't anticipate anything," Jamaica snapped. "That is the issue." Her eyes turned, focusing on Fiona. "You wished to return. Then deal with what your quietude has incurred."Fiona's throat constricted. "Ma'am, with all due respect—"Respect?" Jamaica's voice grew grimmer. "Respect is what you give a name before you treat it like dirt. I told you what revelation would cost. Now the family business is under the microscope of strangers with cameras.""Enough." Charles's tone, flat but strained. "We returned to make this right, not to be crucified."The room froze for an instant. Jamaica took a slow, deep breath. "Then repair it, Charles. Before what's left of our name burns to dust."Fiona let her eyes drop. Valeria placed a gentle hand on her arm, anchoring her.But before anyone else spoke, a house aide strode in, offering a phone. "Ma'am—there's a call. From the Gazette editor. He says it's a