Rights?
The boardroom of Verda Co. buzzed with the low murmur of voices, papers shuffling, and the occasional tap of polished shoes against the marble floor. Mikha sat at the long table, her fingers loosely intertwined, but her eyes weren’t on the presentation unfolding before her.
They were on Aiah.
Seated a few chairs away, Aiah maintained her usual composed posture—calm, unreadable, and entirely too focused on the discussion. Mikha had barely seen her outside of business matters these past weeks.
If Aiah had been avoiding her before, she had become an EXPERT at it now. Every interaction was purely professional, clipped, efficient, as if the nights they spent tangled in something neither of them was ready to name had never happened.
Mikha had handled it well—until now.
“Ms. Rivera.” A smooth, unfamiliar voice interrupted her thoughts. Mikha turned her head slightly, eyes narrowing as a man approached Aiah.
Jeremy.
Tall, well-dressed, exuding confidence in the way he carried himself, he leaned just a little too close to Aiah as he extended a hand. “Jeremy Tan, from Ventura Holdings. I’ve been looking forward to finally meeting you.”
Aiah stood, shaking his hand with a polite smile. “Mr. Tan, it’s good to meet you as well.”
There was nothing in her expression that suggested anything beyond professionalism, but Mikha’s jaw clenched at the sight of the man’s lingering grip on Aiah’s hand.
“Please, just Jeremy,” he said smoothly, flashing a grin that Mikha immediately hated. “I’ve heard so much about you. I must say, you’re even more impressive in person.”
Mikha’s grip on her pen tightened.
“Thank you,” Aiah responded, voice even, dismissing the compliment with ease.
But Jeremy wasn’t done. “I was hoping we could discuss potential collaborations. Over dinner, perhaps?”
Mikha’s nails dug into her palm under the table.
Aiah, to her credit, didn’t even blink. “I’d be happy to discuss business opportunities. You can coordinate with my team for a schedule.”
Jeremy chuckled. “Oh, I was thinking something more personal. I’d like to get to know you better outside of all these corporate settings.”
That was it.
Mikha’s chair scraped against the floor as she stood abruptly. The entire room stilled as she placed her hands on the table, her eyes locking onto Aiah’s.
“If we’re done here,” she said, her voice deceptively calm, “I need to discuss something urgent with Ms. Rivera. Privately.”
Aiah raised a brow, but Mikha didn’t give her the chance to refuse. She grabbed Aiah’s wrist—not roughly, but firm enough to make it clear that there was no room for argument—and pulled her towards the exit.
Jeremy barely had time to react before they were out the door.
Aiah let out an amused huff as Mikha led her down the hall. “Ano na naman ‘to, Mikha?”
Mikha didn’t stop walking until they were at the far end of the corridor, away from curious eyes. Then, she turned sharply, her grip loosening but not letting go completely.
“What was that?” Mikha demanded, eyes dark with something Aiah couldn’t quite place.
Aiah crossed her arms. “A business proposal, apparently.”
Mikha scoffed. “That wasn’t a business proposal. That was him asking you out.”
Aiah tilted her head, studying Mikha’s expression. “And?”
“And?!” Mikha repeated, incredulous. “Are you seriously considering it?”
Aiah leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to something almost teasing. “Why does it matter to you?”
Mikha opened her mouth, then closed it just as fast. She wasn’t about to admit anything—not yet.
“It doesn’t,” she said, too quickly.
Aiah smirked. “Then why are you jealous?”
Mikha’s grip on her wrist tightened for a fraction of a second before she let go completely, stepping back as if putting space between them would help regain control.
“I’m not,” she denied. “I just don’t trust him.”
Mikha’s chest felt tight, her pulse thrumming unevenly as she faced Aiah.
The challenge in Aiah's eyes made it worse — that knowing, almost taunting glint that suggested she saw right through Mikha.
“Don’t trust him?” Aiah echoed, a hint of disbelief coloring her tone. “Jeremy is a respected businessman. What’s there not to trust?”
Mikha’s jaw clenched. How could she explain that it wasn’t just about trust — it was about the way Jeremy had looked at Aiah, how he so easily commanded her attention, how Aiah seemed unfazed by it all. How Mikha had felt something sharp and possessive gnawing at her insides, something she had no business feeling.
“You don’t know him,” Mikha shot back. “For all you know, he could be using you to gain an edge.”
Aiah laughed — a short, dry sound that grated against Mikha’s nerves. “Right. Because that’s the first time anyone’s ever tried to use me. You think I don’t know how to handle people like him?”
“It didn’t look like you were handling him,” Mikha muttered, eyes sharp.
Aiah’s smirk faltered. “Ano'ng problema mo talaga, Mikha?”
Mikha took a breath, forcing herself to regain control. “Wala. Just… be careful, okay?”
Aiah stared at her, a curious crease forming between her brows. The silence stretched thin and heavy until Aiah finally sighed, stepping back.
“Noted,” she replied softly, her tone no longer as sharp. “But I don’t need you protecting me from some businessman, Mikha.”
Mikha wanted to argue, to deny that it was protection, to say something — anything — that would make this ache go away. But instead, she just nodded stiffly and stepped back, her hand falling from Aiah's wrist.
“Fine. Do what you want.”
Aiah’s gaze lingered a moment longer before she turned away, her steps echoing down the hall.
"Pull yourself together," she muttered under her breath, forcing herself to walk back into the conference room. Her team was there, already packing up, discussing follow-ups. Mikha tried to focus on their voices, on the logistics of the next steps — anything to push out the frustration still simmering inside her.
"Hey, you good?" Jhoanna's voice broke through her thoughts. She looked at Mikha, a curious, slightly amused smile on her face.
Mikha forced a tight smile. "Yeah. Just... thinking about the next moves for Terra Firma."
"Sure," Jhoanna replied, but her smirk suggested she didn't buy it. "Or maybe you're thinking about something — or someone — else."
"Jho," Mikha warned, but her voice lacked bite.
Jhoanna laughed, nudging Mikha's arm. "Relax, okay? But honestly, I noticed you glaring at Jeremy earlier. He’s just a businessman, Miks. No need to go all alpha."
Mikha's brows knitted. "I wasn’t glaring."
"Right," Jhoanna teased. "And I’m not the best negotiator in this room."
Mikha sighed, her gaze drifting to the door where Aiah had disappeared moments ago. Jhoanna followed her line of sight, her smile softening into something more knowing.
"Look, Miks," she said gently. "Kung gusto mo si Aiah, maybe it’s time you admit it — kahit man lang sa sarili mo."
Mikha opened her mouth to deny it, to say something dismissive, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead, she just nodded tightly, a silent acknowledgment she wasn't quite ready to put into words.
Jhoanna didn't press further, simply giving Mikha's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before rejoining the rest of their team. Left alone, Mikha allowed herself one last glance at the empty doorway.
///
After what happened earlier with Aiah, Mikha found herself at a restaurant later that evening, meeting with a group of potential investors. She had hoped the familiar setting and the focus on business would help clear her mind — but luck was not on her side.
Because there, just a few tables away, was Aiah.
And beside her was Jeremy.
Mikha’s grip on her wine glass tightened as she watched Aiah laugh at something Jeremy said. It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t businesslike. It was effortless. Natural.
"Miss Lim?" one of the investors called, snapping her out of her trance.
Mikha turned back to the group, forcing a professional smile. "Apologies. Where were we?"
One of the older businessmen chuckled. "We were discussing expansion strategies, but it seems something — or someone — caught your attention."
Mikha held back a scowl, taking a slow sip of her wine. "Just making observations," she said smoothly.
Observations, my ass.
She could hear Aiah’s voice in her head, teasing her with that smug smirk.
Mikha exhaled sharply, attempting to focus, but her eyes betrayed her—drifting back to the other table, where Jeremy was leaning just a little too close. Aiah didn’t seem to mind. She even nodded along, casually twirling the stem of her wine glass.
Mikha’s jaw clenched.
She hated this. Hated the unfamiliar sting in her chest.
Mikha tried her best to keep her attention on the discussion, but every laugh and subtle smile from Aiah's direction was a jab to her already fraying composure. She discreetly glanced at her watch, counting down the minutes until this meeting would be over.
“Miss Lim, what do you think of the proposal?” one of the investors pressed, drawing her back.
Her eyes flicked to the screen in front of them, the presentation already past the halfway mark. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to focus. “I think it has potential, but we need to analyze the market penetration further before we commit fully. There are risks we need to mitigate.”
The investor nodded, seemingly satisfied. Mikha caught her breath, relieved she managed to get through it without faltering. Her gaze involuntarily shifted back to Aiah.
Just in time to see Jeremy place his hand on Aiah’s shoulder, leaning in to say something close to her ear. Aiah didn't seem to mind, even tilting her head closer as she listened.
Mikha's fingers curled into a fist beneath the table.
"Excuse me for a moment," she muttered, standing abruptly. She barely caught the confused glances from the investors before she made her way to the restroom, needing a moment to compose herself.
Inside, she gripped the edge of the sink, her breathing uneven.
"Pull yourself together, Lim," she muttered, glaring at her own reflection. It shouldn't matter. Aiah was free to talk to anyone she wanted, to laugh with anyone she pleased. They weren't... anything.
Mikha had just managed to collect herself when the door to the restroom opened, and Aiah walked in. Their eyes met through the mirror, and for a moment, the air between them was thick with an unspoken tension.
Aiah’s brows knitted, the hint of a smirk gone. "Mikha, what—"
Mikha straightened, forcing a composed expression. “Just needed a breather,” she interrupted, her voice even. “The meeting was dragging a bit. Needed to clear my head.”
Aiah leaned against the sink next to her, crossing her arms. “Is that all?”
Mikha let out a dry chuckle, glancing at Aiah’s reflection. “Why wouldn’t it be?” she replied smoothly. “I’m not the one getting distracted.”
Her gaze dropped pointedly to Aiah’s shoulder, where Jeremy’s touch had lingered earlier.
Aiah’s expression flickered, a flash of defensiveness. “If you have something to say, just say it, Mikha.”
Mikha shrugged, her tone nonchalant. “I don’t have anything to say. Just thought you should know that it’s good to network, but it's better to focus on actual business.”
The jab was subtle, but it landed. Aiah’s jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing.
“Right. Thanks for the tip,” Aiah replied coolly, pushing off the sink. “I didn’t know I needed business advice from you.”
Mikha’s lips curved into a smirk, though it didn't reach her eyes. “Well, there's a first for everything.”
Aiah scoffed softly, but there was a flicker of something—hurt, maybe—in her eyes before she turned away. As the door swung shut behind her, Mikha's smirk faded, the weight of her own words pressing down on her chest.
///
After a moment, she pushed herself away from the sink and exited the restroom. Her investors were still seated at their table, engaged in light conversation. She plastered on a smile as she approached, ready to slip back into the role of the composed businesswoman.
But her eyes involuntarily drifted to Aiah's table. Jeremy was still there, animatedly talking, while Aiah occasionally nodded with that poised, measured expression Mikha knew all too well. The same expression Aiah wore when she was considering something — someone — carefully.
Mikha’s fingers twitched. She wanted to look away, but her eyes stubbornly stayed locked on Aiah. On the easy way Jeremy leaned closer, his smile a little too bright. On the way Aiah seemed unfazed, unbothered — as if Mikha hadn't just tried to cut her down minutes ago.
A small laugh from one of her investors snapped her out of it. She forced her gaze away, her focus back on her companions. But the conversation felt disjointed now, the words filtering through her mind like static.
“I guess we'll have to continue this meeting along with my employees. May I now leave and excuse myself? It's great having to talk to all of you about this plans. Thank you,” Mikha said abruptly, the weight of everything suddenly unbearable.
She barely registered their nods of understanding before she stepped away, weaving through the restaurant with a single destination in mind.
Her feet carried her to the exit, the cool night air biting against her skin as she stepped outside. She exhaled sharply, a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
"Mikha?"
She stiffened at the familiar voice. Turning, she saw Aiah standing just a few feet away, a look of surprise and guarded curiosity on her face.
"Leaving so soon?" Aiah asked, her voice steady.
Mikha’s eyes narrowed, a small, bitter smile curling at her lips. “I didn't realize I needed your permission to leave.”
Aiah's gaze hardened slightly, but there was a flicker of something beneath it — concern, maybe? "That’s not what I meant."
“Doesn’t matter,” Mikha cut in, her voice sharper than she intended. “Go back to your dinner, Aiah. Wouldn’t want to keep Jeremy waiting.”
Aiah’s jaw tightened, the hint of a frown pulling at her features. “Mikha, what’s your problem?”
“My problem?” Mikha let out a short, humorless laugh. “I don’t have a problem. I just don’t like wasting time, that’s all.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke — the silence heavy and charged.
Finally, Aiah's expression softened, a trace of frustration giving way to something else. “Mikha... just say what you need to say.”
But Mikha couldn't. Not without letting slip everything she had buried, everything she refused to acknowledge. So she just shook her head, forcing a smirk that felt brittle.
"There's nothing to say, Aiah. Enjoy your night."