Chapter 2
The venue wasn’t trying too hard, which was refreshing for a Manila charity event. No excessive gold-plated nonsense, no tacky ice sculptures of the organizers’ faces. Just tasteful decor, well-dressed guests, and lively conversations. Among them was President Lena Romero, known for her down-to-earth demeanor and genuine approachability, effortlessly blending in with the crowd despite her high office.
At that moment, however, all eyes were on rising OPM star Coral Vergara. She was on stage, owning it completely. Her voice poured into the room, raw and full of longing, making people pause mid-chatter.
Jade Robles was not merely pausing. She was frozen, eyes wide, practically glowing with devotion. “Oh my god,” she whispered, clutching Sania’s wrist. “Ang galing talaga.”
Sania Catacutan, distinguished photographer and undisputed pain in Jade’s ass, side-eyed her dramatically. “Sis, alam ko. Alam ko rin na every single day you scream her songs like she’s your long-lost lover.” She pried Jade’s fingers off with minimal effort. “So ano, plano mo bang lapitan siya later o magpapanggap ka na naman na furniture?”
Jade made a strangled noise. “I—Hindi. I can’t.”
Sania blinked. “You can’t?”
“I’m shy.”
Sania let out the loudest, most judgmental laugh known to man. “Pabebe! ‘Di bagay.”
Jade shoved her, but before their whisper-fight could escalate, the entrance doors swung open.
And just like that, the whole room seemed to notice.
Sapphire Sevilleja had arrived.
Jade stilled, scowl settling in place before she even turned her head.
“Of course she’s here,” she muttered, as if the event had been personally ruined.
Sania, ever the menace, wiggled her brows. “Oh my god, lapitan mo na rin kaya. Nabibingi na rin ako sa araw-araw mong pag-mention sa kanya! I swear, Jade. I’m this close to thinking na bet mo siya.”
Jade recoiled. “Eww. Kadiri ka!”
“Sus! Para kayong old married couple kung magsagutan—”
“Ituloy mo, sasaktan kita!”
“—actually, now that I think of it, you two would make the perfect wives.”
Jade let out an affronted gasp, gripping Sania’s wrist as if to exorcise whatever demon had possessed her. “Shut up! Manifestation is real, baliw ka!”
Meanwhile, across the room, Sapphire frowned. “My ears are burning.”
Beside her, Megan Ricalde, all confidence and effortless grace, smirked as she adjusted the cuff of her tailored jumpsuit. “Dear, baka pinag-uusapan ka nina Jade.”
Sapphire scoffed, rolling her shoulders like the very idea of that was beneath her. “I don’t care about that grasshopper-looking woman. I just hope she doesn’t go near me.” A pause. Then, muttered under her breath, “Can’t believe she got here first.”
Megan’s smirk deepened. “Aww. Feeling robbed?”
Sapphire exhaled sharply, already regretting her existence. “I feel annoyed. You should’ve finished up earlier.”
Megan gasped, scandalized. “Excuse me? I gave you a heads-up. And also, gusto mong i-finalize ko na ‘yung campaign layouts. ‘Megan, we can’t be sloppy, we’re professionals.’” She mimicked Sapphire’s voice, pitch-perfect and infuriating.
Sapphire gave her a withering look. “Okay, but I didn’t mean for you to take years.”
Megan placed a hand on her chest, mock-wounded. “Perfection ang gusto mo, edi ‘yun binigay ko . And look at us! We still made it before they served the bad wine.”
Sapphire ignored her, scanning the room with a critical gaze. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Megan leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a whisper. “Sure, sure. Pero sasabihin ko lang, ha—if this is how worked up you get over Jade, I cannot wait for tonight’s entertainment.”
The evening had been civil. Unsurprising, even. The charity event had played out smoothly—until the mic was passed to Sapphire.
“May we have Ms. Sapphire Sevilleja, Vice President of Operations and Strategic Development of Saphiré Royale?” the host called.
At her table, Sapphire accepted the microphone as someone accustomed to holding court. She adjusted her blazer—tailored to perfection, of course—before speaking in that signature, measured cadence of hers.
“Philanthropy,” she began, her gaze sweeping across the room, “should not only provide aid, but build long-term solutions that empower communities. That’s why we prioritize strategic partnerships—collaborating with experts, institutions, and international organizations that have a proven track record in sustainable development.”
Applause. Nods of agreement. Someone at a nearby table muttered, “Brilliant point,” because of course, they did.
From across the room, Jade Robles scoffed. Loudly.
Sania, seated beside her, barely contained a grin. “Oof. Aggressive ah,” she mumbled.
Jade, already raising her hand, shot her a look. “I can’t let her get away with that corporate nonsense.”
A waiter, mid-step, hesitated before setting down a drink. The host hesitated, too, but gestured toward her anyway. “We also have here Ms. Jade Robles, Vice President of Design and Innovation of La Jadira.”
Sapphire turned her head slowly. The expression on her face? Mild disdain.
Jade took the mic, offering a dazzling, almost-too-sweet smile. “I love that speech, Sapphire,” she said. “Truly. Very polished. Very… executive.” She tapped her fingers against the microphone. “But let’s talk about those ‘strategic partnerships.’ You mean foreign organizations that parachute in, dictate solutions, and then leave?”
Sapphire’s lips curved into something that was not quite a smile. “I mean collaborations with leading experts who provide resources, training, and global-standard programs that uplift local communities.”
Jade let out a laugh—bright, incredulous. “Right, because we clearly don’t have brilliant local experts already doing the work?”
A collective murmur rippled through the room. Megan, beside Sapphire, casually sipped her drink, clearly entertained.
Sapphire, unfazed, tilted her head. “I’m saying that integrating international expertise strengthens local efforts. It’s about scalability and sustainability.”
Jade placed a hand over her heart, feigning offense. “Ouch. And here I was thinking Filipinos were more than capable of solving Filipino problems.”
“And without external resources, you limit what can be accomplished.” Sapphire’s tone was cool and measured. “It’s not about undermining local talent—it’s about enhancing capacity.”
The audience watched, enraptured, as the two locked eyes—neither willing to yield.
Sania leaned in, whispering, “Parang nagiging medyo romantic na ‘to.”
Jade snapped her gaze to her. “Ano?”
“Wala, wala. Keep arguing with your wife.”
The tension was now becoming much more impossible to ignore. Jade and Sapphire weren’t just debating anymore—they were circling each other like two stubborn roosters in a cockfight, except the weapons were corporate jargon and their egos had been sharpened to a lethal point.
Jade’s fingers curled around the microphone, knuckles just shy of turning white. “If we always relied on foreign validation, we’d still be waiting for approval from some international board instead of trusting our own solutions.”
Sapphire exhaled through her nose, equal parts unimpressed and deeply, deeply annoyed. “And if we don’t integrate external expertise, we risk limiting our initiatives to small-scale projects when we could be achieving far greater impact.”
“Oh, my bad. I forgot that unless a program comes with a foreign stamp of approval, it doesn’t count.”
Sania, watching from the sidelines, casually reached for her wine glass. “Oh, nasa trenches na tayo ngayon.”
Megan, equally entertained, tilted her head in mock sympathy. “At ni isa sa kanila, hindi marunong mag-retreat.”
Jade scoffed. “Maybe instead of securing corporate alliances abroad, you should actually invest in the grassroots organizations already making change happen here.”
Sapphire’s smile was all polished restraint. “And maybe instead of making sweeping, sentimental statements, you should—”
“Ladies.”
A single word.
The voice that spoke it wasn’t raised, but it might as well have been a gavel striking down, silencing the entire room.
President Lena Romero had barely spoken all evening, but when she did, people listened. There was nothing particularly dramatic about her tone—just the authority of someone who had no patience for nonsense.
Sapphire and Jade immediately shut up.
The president set down her glass with a deliberate movement that suggested she was suppressing the urge to sigh. “Charity event ito,” she said, arching a brow. “Hindi corporate debate. I assume you both know that.”
Jade swallowed. Sapphire crossed her arms.
Lena let the silence stretch for one excruciating beat. “Good,” she finally said. “Then let’s return to the purpose of this evening, shall we?”
That was the end of it.
Jade and Sapphire both passed their microphones back to the event staff with all the grace of two kids who had just been told to stop fighting in church.
Meanwhile, the audience—some still holding their forks mid-air, some barely suppressing amused whispers—had already decided that this was better than any panel discussion.
At their table, Sania clapped once, delighted. “I’m all for a good public scolding.”
Megan smirked, swirling her drink. “Deserved.”
Jade exhaled through her nose. Sapphire adjusted the cuffs of her blazer.
Neither of them looked at each other as they sat back down.
But the damage had been done.
The undeniable truth laid bare under the lights: two of the country’s most influential heiresses, utterly incapable of pretending to get along—even on a night meant for solidarity and philanthropy.
The phone rang once.
"Javier," Spencer said, exhaling like a man who had seen this disaster coming from a mile away and had decided, long ago, to let it crash and burn before stepping in.
"I know, Spencer," Javier answered, his tone far too chipper for someone whose daughter had just gotten into a full-fledged debate in the middle of a charity event.
Across from him, Gemma barely glanced up from her tablet. She was scrolling—probably through an email, possibly through a list of potential damage-control strategies, but most likely through the breaking news headlines now featuring her daughter’s name in bold, capitalized letters. After a few moments, she sighed, set the tablet down, and gave her husband a flat look.
"You know what has to be done."
It wasn’t a question.
Meanwhile, at the Sevilleja residence, Ivory sat across from Spencer, one leg crossed over the other, completely unbothered as she sipped from a cup of tea. She hadn’t said a word yet, just watched Spencer with an expression that suggested you should already know the answer, darling.
Spencer sighed. "Well. I suppose alam na nating pareho na it would come to this."
Javier beamed. "Ayan din ang iniisip ko!"
Of course.
"This has gone far enough," Gemma said, rubbing her temples.
Ivory flipped a page in her book. "It should have ended years ago."
"A shame we didn’t arrange it sooner," Gemma added, already mentally scheduling a meeting with the lawyers.
Javier nodded enthusiastically, like a man who thought this was the best idea they’d ever had. "Isipin natin ‘yung synergy! ‘Yung stability! ‘Yung legacy!"
Spencer rubbed the back of his neck. "Ay nako."
Ivory, ever unbothered, merely lifted her cup to her lips and said, "It’s happening."
And just like that, the deal was sealed.