Sweet Downfall (11 page)

More expletives from Manolo and Rad.

Angie’s head felt like exploding with all the ugly emotions twisting viciously inside her. They were talking as if she wasn’t there, discussing her life, her shame, her most guarded secrets, as if she was not listening!

She stood up. She needed to get out of there. She would crack any second now.

“Sit down, Angelina!” he father thundered.

“Dad, please, it happened a very long time ago…”

“The public will not care. They are seeing it now!”

Her tears finally fell. She raised her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “But what can I do now, Dad? What else can I do?”

“You will do nothing! You will not show yourself in public until we’ve come up with a plan to resolve this! Do you understand?”

As if she could show herself in public now after all of this? She just nodded and bowed her head, biting her lower lip hard to keep herself from breaking into hysterical sobs. It was like having an out-of-body experience. This wasn’t happening. Not to her. Not to her.

“Sir…” Jordan interjected again.

“Don’t worry, Jordan. We’ll rectify this,” Manolo said.

“Sir, may I talk to Angie in private?”

Angie wished he would rant at her, even hurt her,
but Jordan just stood there, looking at her with cold intensity.

The silence between them was deafening and she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Jordy…”

“Did you love him?” he asked her quietly.

That very question was like a bullet fired at her and honesty was the order of the day. She didn’t have any problem with honesty, but God, not a question that ricocheted. “I’m so sorry…” What could she say to him that would soften the blow?

“Answer me.”

“It happened a long time ago, Jordy. I was very young.”

“That’s not what I want to hear.”

Ah, damn honesty. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

She raised her chin a fraction. “I never asked you about your past relationships.”

“I had nothing that mattered, nothing that would affect our relationship now. Ours is the only relationship that matters to me.”

That made her feel guiltier. “What do you want me to say, Jordy? I don’t know how that video came out. I...”

He shook his head slowly.

“It’s in the past. It doesn’t mean anything to me now.”

“Do you still love him?”

“No!”

He stared at her harder, gauging the truth from her vehement denial. She could see distrust in his eyes now and it was breaking her heart.

“I don’t love him anymore,” she said firmly, fighting not to squirm under his skeptical gaze.

He looked away and walked towards the veranda. Settling his hands on the wrought iron railing, he gazed at the perfect Mediterranean garden that surrounded the luxurious swimming pool of her family’s lavish mansion. The beauty of their surroundings seemed to mock them both.

When Jordan finally faced her again, he was devoid of any expression. Not even anger. She felt a chill run down her spine at the blankness he saw in his eyes.

Suddenly, he was a total stranger to her.

“I’ll understand if you call off the wedding–”

“No. Nothing will change between us. You will be my wife.”

The words that he uttered were strange to her ears now. Jordan Lavega was a powerful tycoon, respected and admired by his peers. Her reputation had been besmirched beyond repair. How could he still want her to be his wife? “Jordy…”

“We will let this pass. It will pass. We will go out in public and carry on as if nothing happened.”

He was being optimistic and yet his flat, impassive voice sliced through her like slivers of ice. It did nothing to comfort her.

Gone was the tenderness whenever he spoke to her. Gone was the loving glow in his eyes when he looked at her. She saw nothing now that would encourage her to still want to be his wife in the real sense of the word.

“Jordan…” She couldn’t bear to use his cute nickname now. It would sound phony in the light of the drastic transformation in their relationship. She just knew they will never go back to what they were once to each other.

“You will conduct yourself in public as my loving and devoted fiancée, and you will not dignify any questions regarding that video. Ever. Do you understand, Angie?”

No, she didn’t understand.

“You owe me this.”

There was not an ounce of understanding in his gaze, just uncompromising resolve. Just like her father and brothers, Jordan was treating her as a business situation that can be troubleshot, not a wounded human being.

“Fix yourself and join us in the living room again.” He turned around and walked away.

She was left there, feeling light-headed. It must be the shock. Everything hadn’t fully sunk in yet, In the next days, it will get worse, she was sure of it. More pain. More shame. More guilt.

She didn’t want to think of the coming days. If she could only fast forward her life to the next five years, she would. Or better yet, delete this entire episode like it never existed. But she had no remote control of her life.

The past slammed in her present like a bullet train without warning.

She was eighteen again.

In love.

Heart-broken before her time.

Chapter Two

AFTER HIS DEBACLE WITH THE YULOS
eight years ago, Jaq went back to London with his mother who had made a name for herself there as a credible actress since appearing in that maiden cast of Miss Saigon. But he only stayed there for a few months. Her second husband, a British lord, made him feel everyday that he will never be welcome in his noble, palatial home.

He decided to go to the States to pursue his dream of becoming a movie director.

He was able to enter the US with a working visa, thanks to his well-connected, richer-than-Midas biological father whom he hadn’t known until he was twenty three years old.

Today, he enjoyed both American and Philippine visas and could come and go in both countries as he pleased. He was a by-blow but he was the only son which probably gave him some edge over his legit siblings, which explained the few billion pesos that suddenly popped up under his name at a local bank. Even as a hotshot director in Hollywood, that kind of cash never lined his pockets. In this country, he was a fucking secret billionaire, which made things easier for him to set up his local businesses.

The old man was finding more and more excuses to see him lately. He didn’t know if that was good or bad. What if the rags found out? That would be another scandal of a different level.

His two-story, five-bedroom, open-plan house in that very exclusive subdivision in Manila was a generous gift he’d received from his old man on his birthday three years ago. It was formerly owned by a renowned architect in the country, hence its sleek, stream-lined, ultra-modern architecture. It was almost as huge as his own crib in LA. Both houses were too big for him who liked to live alone, but it was the vast spaces he craved for his creative musings.

The security system was busted, as he’d expected. Those thugs knew their business.

He was cursing as he entered the expansive living room.

It looked like a tornado had passed through it, leaving everything in shambles.

He ran up the stairs to the second floor. All the contents of his closets in the master’s bedroom were on the floor, the mattress of his king-size bed, ripped to pieces. The other three bedrooms suffered less vandalism.

He went downstairs to check his state of the art recording studio which boasted the most sophisticated equipment in multi-media production, bracing himself for the worst. But except for his video collections scattered on the floor, nothing here was touched.

Leaving the studio, he went to the kitchen. The appliances in this part were custom-made for urbane, sophisticated and busy lifestyle. Not a thing astray here. Of course, who would look for anything worth stealing in the kitchen? But
what those idiots were looking for was exactly in the kitchen.

He pushed a button hidden under the lid of the counter top. The modular cabinet moved, revealing a safe. He twisted the revolving lock a few times using a code and it opened.

He stared at a few CDs, several USBs and an external hard disc lying on top of stacks of other valuable items and documents. They were all intact. He slammed the safe shut and locked it.

He went back to the living room and assessed the damage done to his property. A professional designer would be needed to put everything back together.

Nothing was stolen. Which meant two things. They came for the video and the vandalism was a warning. By now, he had a pretty good idea who the culprits were.

The buzzer went off.

Fuck, who would come calling now? Today of all days? Considering the battered state of his residence, he wasn’t in the mood to accept visitors,

He proceeded to a discreet corner and rolled a sliding door open. The door blended with the wall so the scumbags didn’t find it. It housed some CCTV screens for his back up surveillance system. He checked one of the screens.

A man was standing outside the gate. He didn’t look familiar but he was wearing a formal suit. A decent-looking dude. But what did he know about decent people? They were as heinous as the worst thugs in the slums. There was a car parked nearby, apparently the man’s but no sign of companions.

The buzzing continued. He went out to check on the visitor. Nobody would open the gate for him. He had an agency that supplied cleaning ladies, utility men and gardeners and these people came at a scheduled day within a week.

He walked down the front steps and cautiously opened the small door beside the massive gate.

“Jaq Montero?” the guy outside asked.

“Who’re you?” he countered without acknowledging his identity.

“Wayne Defensor, Manolo Yulo’s legal counsel.”

The mere mention of the name triggered a code red alert within him. His anger built up again. A lawyer? This one was a high-powered asshole if he was Yulo’s shit-sweeper. “What do you want?”

“Can we talk?”

Now, why would Yulo’s ass-licker wanna talk to him? He opened the door wider.

The visitor stepped in.

He slammed the door shut. “Sorry, we can’t get in. My house is a wreck right now, courtesy of your client,” he said, watching Wayne’s face closely for a telltale sign.

The man didn’t even blink. “Excuse me?”

He sneered. “Cut the crap, will you? You know damn well he’s responsible for trashing my house. Why did he send you here anyway? To gloat?”

Wayne smiled, not fazed by his blatant accusation. “I’m afraid whatever happened to your house, my client has nothing to do with it, Jaq.”

“Come on, did you come here to bullshit me?”

“No. I came here to talk to you about the video.”

“Ah.” Putting on a mask of indifference, he shoved his hands in his jeans’ pockets.

“I’m sure you’re aware of the Yulo family’s sterling reputation.”

Sterling, my ass. Bunch of hypocrites.
“No, I’m not.”

“Nevertheless, that video has caused major damage to the family’s reputation.”

“Really?”

“It has affected their business. It has caused shame and embarrassment to the family members.”

“Do I look like I care?”

“You should. Because my client wants to sue you.”

The fuck? “For what?”

“For malicious intent to sully his family’s reputation and sabotage the Empress Groups’ good image.”

He couldn’t help it. He laughed in derision. “Wow.”

“It’s a very serious offense if proven guilty. The Empress Group is a huge corporation.”

He was tempted to level the lawyer’s face with his fists. Smart-mouthed fuck. “Tell me, Wayne, what exactly are you here for? Cut the BS, man. We both know you’re not here to sue my ass.”

“I want you to surrender that video and all files connected to it, deny any involvement in making it and never talk about it to anybody, especially to the press. Under no circumstances will you mention Angie’s name, least of all acknowledge any involvement with her in the past. My client wants this in black and white.”

He wanted to laugh out loud at the audacity of the lawyer. His hatred for Manolo Yulo rose to new heights. The old, rotten bastard actually sent his legal shyster to issue threats at him and tell him what to do after his goons totaled his house?! It was beyond incredible.

“I want you to tell Manolo Yulo this. Tell him to shove his threats up his bloody ass. Tell him not to come within an inch of my property again or I’ll kill him. Tell him that.”

“Be reasonable, Jaq.”

“Reason is not the way to deal with a snake like your boss and you know it. Now, leave.”

He walked to the small door and opened it again.

“Think about Angie, Jaq. She doesn’t deserve this.”