Chapter 1
The Sevilleja estate was the sort of home that seemed to have leaped straight out of a high-end lifestyle magazine. Towering windows stretched from floor to ceiling, showcasing a breathtaking panorama of impeccably groomed gardens. Everything inside exuded a sleek, minimalist charm, with an unsettling level of perfection—much like its owner.
Sapphire Sevilleja’s morning was a masterclass in discipline. She awoke without an alarm, her internal clock as precise as her schedule. No groggy fumbling, no snooze button abuse. Just a seamless stretch before slipping out of silk sheets, effortlessly composed as if she were shooting an ad for sleeping beautifully.
After a light pilates session, she showered and dressed in a perfectly tailored power suit: deep navy, structured shoulders, effortless authority. A pair of sapphire earrings completed the look—her signature. She checked her watch. Of course, she was on schedule.
At breakfast, her father, Spencer Sevilleja, was already lounging at the table as if he had nowhere urgent to be.
“Morning, daughter,” he greeted, sipping his coffee. “Musta ‘yung global markets?”
“They're stable,” Sapphire replied, setting her cup down. “Unlike your tendency to invest in start-ups with questionable business models.”
Spencer grinned. “Hey, minsan kailangan mo sumugal.”
Ivory Sevilleja, sharp-eyed and sophisticated even in a silk robe, barely glanced up from her own reading. “That would explain the art gallery fiasco.”
Spencer put a hand over his heart. “Bold investment ‘yun.”
“It was a scam,” Sapphire corrected, before standing. “I have a meeting. I'll see you both later.”
Minutes later, she slipped into the driver’s seat of her Audi A8 (Mythos Black), its engine purring smoothly as she drove off, her morning unfolding exactly as planned.
~
The Robles family estate was the opposite of pristine. It was grand, yes, but it was also lived-in. Books were stacked in precarious towers, vibrant paintings filled every possible space, and an inexplicable number of throw pillows were scattered around, serving no real function.
Jade Robles was very much a product of her environment—brilliant, creative, and a disaster before noon.
Her alarm had been ringing for ages, completely ignored under a pile of swatches. When she finally stirred, it was with the grace of someone who had absolutely lost control of their life. She shoved a sketchbook off her bed, checked the time, and promptly cursed.
After a frantic search for something presentable, she settled on a silk shirt (unbuttoned just enough to look effortlessly stylish) and a mix of gold jewelry. Somewhere between putting on her rings and running a hand through her hair, she spotted a fresh cut on her finger. Right. The wire-cutting mishap from last night.
No time to deal with it. She slapped on a band-aid, grabbed her keys, and ran downstairs—nearly crashing into her father, Javier Robles, who was standing in the hallway with open arms.
“Anak! Good morning!” he said, attempting to pull her into a hug.
“Not now, Pa. Late na me!”
Javier made a dramatic gasp. “You never have time for your father anymore.”
Gemma Robles, Jade’s mother, leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Because she stays up all night sketching and thinks sleep is a suggestion.”
Jade kissed both of them on the cheek in apology before bolting out the door, yelling, “Love you! Bye!”
Her Alfa Romeo Stelvio Quadrifoglio (Verde Montreal) screeched slightly as she reversed out of the driveway, already speeding just a little over the limit. Because why start the day any other way?
~
Sapphire stepped into her office at Saphiré Royale like she owned the entire city, which, in many ways, she kind of did. The glass walls were sparkling, the polished marble floors gleamed under the sunlight—everything about this place screamed control. It wasn’t just about luxury; it was about keeping things together. Employees immediately straightened up when she walked in, and even the newest intern seemed to be holding their breath, as if waiting for a performance review to drop.
“Good morning, Ms. Sapphire,” her assistant greeted, voice carefully neutral. Sapphire didn’t mind. She wasn’t here for pleasantries.
She nodded and took her seat at the head of the conference table, scanning the agenda for the international expansion meeting. Without missing a beat, she started. “Let’s talk numbers, projections, and logistics. We’re expanding, but not at the expense of quality. We do luxury —we’re not here to make reckless decisions.”
Her voice wasn’t raised, but it carried. Every word was deliberate, as if each one had been perfectly crafted in her mind before it left her lips. The boardroom followed her lead, every pair of eyes on her, waiting for the next move. The woman knew how to command attention.
One of the newer executives, still unsure of the unwritten rules, ventured an idea about a high-risk, high-reward marketing stunt to kick off the new campaign’s international launch. Sapphire’s eyes narrowed, just a little. “A luxury brand isn’t built on whims,” she said, her voice like polished stone. “We deal with precision, not impulse. Let’s stick to what works, shall we?”
The room fell into an awkward silence for a moment. Not because her tone had been harsh—no, Sapphire had a way of being sharp without sounding cruel. It was just that no one dared argue with her. The silence stretched out until the executive mumbled a quiet agreement, and Sapphire moved on, already thinking about her next global market strategy.
~
Meanwhile, a few blocks away at La Jadira, Jade was practically bouncing through the doors of her design studio, and it wasn’t just the double-shot espresso she had prior. The place was a chaotic mix of sketches, gemstones, and half-formed ideas scattered everywhere. But that chaos? It worked for her. The mess was where the magic happened.
"Alright, let’s make this pop," Jade said, flipping through a collection of designs, her fingers tracing over the lines like she was reading a book. She didn’t need to look at her team to know they were following her lead. They were used to her energy. She didn’t walk into a room—she burst in, her presence unmistakable and magnetic.
“Ito kailangan pa ng more attitude,” she muttered to herself, tossing aside a sketch with a dramatic flick of her wrist. “Masyadong safe. Parang tinatago nung jewelry ‘yung true self niya.” She picked up a new design and grinned at it. “People don’t just wear jewelry. They wear their story. I want this collection to shout individuality .”
Her assistant, who had been with her long enough to know that Jade’s design philosophy was something of a beautiful mess, nodded with wide eyes. “Okay, so—bolder po?”
“Exactly!” Jade was practically vibrating with excitement. “People aren’t looking for generic, mass-market stuff anymore. Gusto natin ng pieces that make them feel like they’re wearing something unique —something that matters to them.”
Jade was always like this—on fire with ideas, constantly moving, her mind skipping from one thought to another like a child on a sugar high. It wasn’t always easy to follow, but it was hard not to get caught up in the whirlwind.
She turned to another sketch, then suddenly bam! —a colleague carrying a tray of gemstones rounded the corner just a little too fast, and Jade, never one to stay still for long, nearly knocked it over. The gemstones rattled dangerously, threatening to escape from the tray. Jade froze for a split second. Then she burst into laughter, her usual composure slipping for just a moment.
“Okay, baka kailangan ko mag-slow down nang konti,” she said, hands up in surrender as she watched the colleague’s eyes widen in mild panic.
“Konti lang?” the colleague asked with a raised brow.
Jade grinned. “Okay, okay. Maybe a lot. Pero kuha niyo naman ‘yung idea, noh? Let’s make something that feels alive .”
The colleague nodded, relieved, and then placed the tray down with exaggerated care. “Got it. Wala nang Jade-speed chaos.”
"Uy," Jade shot back with a grin, "if it isn’t chaotic, it isn’t creative. Anyway, balik tayo sa collection na ‘to—let’s give it soul, not just sparkle.” She waved her hand like it was the easiest thing in the world to demand brilliance. "Let’s make jewelry that makes people feel like they’re stepping into a new chapter of their story.”
Her team laughed because they knew Jade wasn’t just talking about design anymore. She was talking about a philosophy, one that was entirely hers. Passion over structure, heart over numbers.
~
Sapphire skimmed through the competitor analysis report in front of her, a sheet of paper that seemed to have been printed solely to bore her. The numbers, the graphs, the percentages—they all blurred together in a mess. But one thing caught her eye: La Jadira’s latest campaign.
She paused, her eyes narrowing at the ad spread across the page. It was... predictable. The campaign appeared as if the same words, the same visuals, had been recycled for the past decade. She sighed, tapping her pen impatiently against the report.
"Predictable," she muttered, leaning back in her chair as though the mere mention of La Jadira was enough to ruin her perfectly structured morning.
~
Jade's fingers flew across her sketchpad. Her team was gathered around, discussing their latest collection—one they were all convinced would be the one to make waves.
But when one of her assistants, with a touch of admiration, casually mentioned Saphiré Royale’s latest items, Jade couldn't help but roll her eyes.
“Let me guess," she drawled with a smirk. “Isa na namang ‘timeless’ collection? Safe. Stiff. Boring.” Her voice was rich with disdain, the words almost dripping off her tongue like a bad taste.
She swiped her hand through the air dramatically, her fingers leaving behind traces of graphite. “No, no, no,” she continued, fully in her element. “Ang kailangan ng mga tao ay personality. Something that pops. Not another rehashed collection of ‘elegance’ they can’t even pronounce correctly.”
~
Sapphire’s phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her out of her zen-like concentration on the latest competitor analysis. She pulled it out, glancing at the message from Megan. The notification was already practically dripping with drama.
“Dear, sasabay ako sa’yo later papunta sa event. I know you want to come early but wait for me, pretty please 🥺🥺”
Sapphire’s lips quirked upward in the tiniest of smirks. Megan and her never-ending, overly-sweet theatrics. She rolled her eyes, but there was fondness in her expression. No one could make her do anything with just a few emojis and a well-timed please like Megan could.
"Fine," she typed back, adding an eye-roll emoji for good measure. She hit send before slipping the phone back into her pocket and shaking her head. Megan... It was always a spectacle with her, but it was a spectacle Sapphire secretly loved.
~
Meanwhile, Jade’s phone went off, the notification tone much too loud against the otherwise calm of her creative space. She glanced at the screen, instantly seeing Sania’s name flash across it.
"Sissy! Remind ko lang ha, charity event mamaya. Gandahan mo suot mo, please. The President will be there 🤩"
Jade snorted, muttering to herself, “As if naman hindi ko pa ‘yun alam.” Still, the text had the desired effect. She couldn’t help but smile, picturing Sania’s voice booming in her head, the way it always did whenever she spoke about anything—especially something as big as an event with the President.
"Yeah, yeah," Jade typed back with a roll of her eyes, adding a wink emoji because, well, Sania.
But of course, Sania wasn’t done yet. A few seconds later, another text came through, practically bursting with more emoji than was strictly necessary.
"’Wag mo kakalimutan, ha! I’ll see you later! 😝😘💅"
Jade shook her head, chuckling under her breath. Sania could never just send a simple text. She imagined Sania’s voice in her head again, like a joyful soundtrack that played no matter where she went. “Love you too, BFF,” Jade muttered, dropping her phone back onto the desk.
~
And just like that, the evening inched closer, dragging along the inevitable mess. For now, Sapphire and Jade had no clue they were hurtling toward yet another spectacular disaster—one that half the city would probably witness.