Chapter 1
The sun was just beginning to rise over Valencia, its soft light touching the old town square where the Rivamonte and Villafranca families had once stood united. The Rivamontes had long ruled the province, their name tied to Valencia’s growth and history. The Villafrancas, meanwhile, had governed the city’s bustling center for generations. Once close allies, the two families had drifted apart, their bond broken by the political ambitions that now defined their lives.
Mia Lorienne Rivamonte had always admired her father, Francisco. As a little girl, she was his pride and joy—confident, carefree, and always by his side. To Mia, her father was a symbol of strength and leadership, someone she trusted completely. His beliefs and values had shaped her world, giving her a clear sense of right and wrong.
But as Mia grew older, her perspective began to change.
College took her far from the privileged life she had always known. Through her friends and the communities she became a part of, Mia started to see life differently. She witnessed struggles she had never experienced before—people fighting against injustice, sacrificing for their families, and surviving against the odds. These experiences opened her eyes to truths she hadn’t understood as a child. The ideals her father had once instilled in her began to feel distant, even flawed, as she questioned the power and control that had once seemed so admirable.
Mia had become an activist, driven by a deep desire to challenge the systems that kept those in power thriving while leaving the marginalized to struggle. What she once admired about her father’s political choices now seemed like part of the same problem she was determined to fight. Their differences weren’t just a simple disagreement—they had grown into a deep divide, shaped by clashing beliefs and a lost connection neither of them could repair.
One ordinary day, Mia received a call from her sister, Vivienne. There was an urgency in her voice that Mia couldn’t ignore. For more than a year, Mia had lived on her own, far from her family, dedicating herself to work that aligned with her values. The thought of returning home and facing her past was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Di na ako babalik Ate Vien,” Mia had said, her voice firm but distant.
“You don’t have to stay forever,” Vivienne replied. “Just come. It’s about Dad.”
“Dad? What about him?” Lorienne’s heart thudded in her chest.
“He’s… he’s not well, Yen.” Vivienne hesitated. “It’s cancer. May Colon cancer si Daddy.”
The words hit Mia like a blow to the chest. She froze, the image of her strong, unshakable father wavering in her mind.
“Cancer?” she whispered.
“Please Yen, umuwi ka na,” Vivienne said softly. “We need to be there for him.”
Mia’s stubbornness clashed with the guilt that had been nagging at her for years. How could she face her father now, after all the silence? After all the ways they had grown apart? And yet, deep down, a small voice reminded her of the bond they once shared—a bond she still mourned losing.
When Mia arrived, the house was just as she remembered it—familiar, yet it felt distant, like a memory she no longer fully belonged to. The once-lively energy of their family home was now subdued, almost lifeless. Vivienne met her at the door, her expression a mix of relief and tension. Together, they stepped inside, the weight of their shared history heavy in the air.
Francisco was sitting in his usual chair by the window, his gaze fixed on the distant mountains. The man who had once seemed larger than life now appeared frail and worn, his proud figure softened by time. Yet, in his eyes, there was still a faint glimmer of the strength and resolve that had once inspired Mia.
"Yen, anak," he greeted softly when he heard the faint knock on the door, his voice barely above a whisper.
She stood in the doorway, unsure of what to say. The space between them felt like an abyss.
“Dad,” she said, her voice catching.
Francisco studied her, his gaze softening. “Alam ko marami tayong hindi pagkakaintindihan anak”
Mia didn’t know what to say. Her emotions mixed.
Francisco exhaled, his hand trembling slightly as he rested it on his knee. “There’s something I never told you.”
“I’m not sure I want to hear it,” she replied, turning away from him.
But he pressed on, his voice stronger now. “Yung mining project—hindi lang ‘yon tungkol sa pera. May mga deal, mga kasunduan. Hidden from everyone.”
Mia spun to face him, her brows furrowed. “Hidden deals? What are you talking about? Hindi ako pumunta rito para pag-usapan yan”
“Please anak, ayoko na makipagtalo sayo. Nakikiusap ako, pakinggan mo ako this time.” Francisco said weakly, his voice hoarse and clearly lacking the strength for a heated discussion. “Maupo ka,” he added, motioning to the chair in front of him.
Mia hesitated, but seeing the sadness in her father’s eyes and hearing the weight in his voice, something tugged at her heart. Slowly, she took the seat he had pointed to.
“I made sure the indigenous leaders were heard, Lorienne. May mga probisyon sa kontrata na ginawa ko to protect their sacred lands,” Francisco said, his voice trembling but resolute. “Alam kong iniisip mo na binenta ko ang prinsipyo ko pero hindi mo kasi naiintindihan anak—Mas malaki ito kaysa sa iniisip mo. I was under pressure from forces far beyond this province. May mga politiko, korporasyon, even foreign powers na nakabantay, naghihintay ng pagkakamali ko. This wasn’t just about our land, it was about keeping control, tungkol ito sa pagprotekta sa lahat ng pinaghirapan buoin ng pamilya natin for the past two decades.”
He paused, his breathing shallow. “Kung hindi ko inaprubahan yung project na yun, they would’ve overriden me. They would’ve stripped this province bare, and we’d have nothing left—not the forests, not the sacred lands, pati dignidad ng mga tao. I fought for the future, Lorienne, pero hindi sa paraan na gusto mo. Things aren’t as simple as you think. Ginawa ko ang dapat kong gawin, kahit ibig sabihin nun ay maging masama ako sa paningin ng mga tao. Sa paningin mo."
His eyes softened as he looked at her. “I never stopped fighting. Not for them, not for us, and not for you. Kinailangan magsakripisyo anak.”
Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “Sacrifice? Ikaw ba ang nagsakripisyo o ang mga organizations na kontra sayo at mga indigenous families na naapektuhan?”
“I protected what I could,” Francisco insisted, his voice steady but filled with the weight of his struggles. “Hindi madali. Alam ko marami akong pagkakamali. Pero para sa ikabubuti ng nakararami ang intensiyon ko Lorienne. Maiintindihan mo rin ako once na andito ka na posisyon ko.”
Mia shook her head, the heaviness of his admission crashing down on her. “Why are you telling me all of this?”
The dread she had feared hung in the air, and then came the words she had been dreading.
“I’m dying, Lorienne,” Francisco said quietly. “Nauubusan na ako ng panahon. Gusto ko malaman mo… gusto ko maintindihan mo ako”
Silence fell between them, thick and oppressive. The man she once revered now stood before her, vulnerable and mortal.
He rose and stepped out onto the balcony, overlooking the vast mountains. “Come with me.” Mia followed, tears streaming down her face.
Francisco gazed out at the beauty before them. “I guess sinabi na ni Vivienne sayo ang tungkol sa aking cancer” He sighed, and Mia’s gentle sobs cut through the stillness. They stood in silence, both of them staring at the endless expanse of the mountains.
“Alam mo anak, I’ve always admired your stubborn will. Yung prinsipyo mo, yung determinasyon mo” He turned to face her, his eyes searching hers. “It makes me proud as a parent that you’ve become the woman you are.”
Overwhelmed by his words, Mia couldn’t find the strength to respond.
“I’m sorry, anak,” Francisco said, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry kung—”
But he couldn’t finish his sentence before Mia rushed to him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Tears poured down her face as the weight of his confession broke her resolve.
“No, Dad. I’m sorry,” she whispered through her sobs.
Francisco held her, his own tears falling silently. The hug stretched on, filled with unspoken emotions. When Lorienne finally pulled away, her father gently wiped her tears with his thumb, his touch soothing and tender.
“I admire you so much, anak. Kahit na minsan hindi tayo nagkakaintindihan. You’ve always been such a sweet, strong child with a heart of gold – matapang, matatag at higit sa lahat bukal ang kalooban mo. You have the qualities of a good leader anak.”
Mia furrowed her brows, sensing where this was leading.
“Alam kong malaking bagay itong hihingin ko, but I need you to carry on and protect what this family has built for the past two decades. The people of Valencia need you. It’s time for you to step up and lead.”
In the days that followed, Mia was overwhelmed with grief and uncertainty. The worst news of her life—her father was dying. It felt unreal at times, as if she couldn’t fully believe it, but reality was slowly sinking in. She was losing her dad, the man she had looked up to all her life. Memories of the past haunted her, but so did a need to understand it all. Her father’s struggles, his imperfect choices, and his genuine desire to protect their province—flawed as they were—began to make sense to her in a way they hadn’t before.
Mia had always rejected the idea of politics, especially the notion of a single family controlling an entire province. It had never felt right to her. But her conversations with her father were beginning to challenge her beliefs. Could she really take on this responsibility? Was she capable of serving the people of Valencia?
The weight of her terminally ill father’s wish, combined with her guilt, was almost unbearable. One thing, however, was undeniable: the call to serve was inescapable, and deep down, she knew she could no longer turn away from it.
Meanwhile, in the heart of Valencia City, Maria Corazon Villafranca—Maco—lived a life vastly different from Mia’s. She was the third of six children, raised with the weight of the Villafranca name on her shoulders. Unlike Mia, Maco had been immersed in the world of politics from a young age. Her mother, Cecilia Villafranca, was a strict and commanding figure, almost tyrannical in her expectations. Cecilia demanded perfection, enforcing discipline and responsibility with a cold, unyielding presence. Affection and warmth were rare in their relationship, leaving Maco yearning for her mother’s love and approval.
This longing shaped who Maco became. Her every achievement, every success, was driven by a desperate need to gain her mother’s validation—a recognition that always seemed just out of reach. While her mother’s approval consumed her focus, Maco’s father, a softer and more affectionate man, offered a stark contrast. He was the quiet strength in her life, the one who showed her kindness and unconditional love. But even his support couldn’t fill the void left by her mother’s distant, critical nature.
As a result, Maco grew up determined and overachieving, striving to meet impossible standards, not just for herself but in hopes of earning the love she had always craved from her mother.
By the time Maco was of age, the call to service was not a question—it was a duty. When the position of Mayor of Valencia City became vacant, Maco knew there was no other option. She didn’t question whether she was capable or deserving. It had always been expected. Her family had prepared her for this role, and there was no room for doubt. She stepped forward without hesitation, carrying the weight of her family’s legacy, her eyes set on proving herself not just to the city, but to her own demanding expectations.
As the two women prepared to run their campaigns, a growing political party—United Valencia Party (UVP)—threatened the very foundations of the Rivamontes and Villafrancas. The UVP sought to dismantle the entrenched dynasties, painting them as relics of a bygone era. The Rivamontes and Villafrancas found themselves in a desperate struggle to preserve their influence.
Three weeks before the filing of candidacies, a scandal erupted that threatened to unravel the carefully constructed worlds of the Rivamonte and Villafranca families. The cause? Their younger siblings—Gabrielle Rivamonte and Justine Villafranca—had gotten themselves into a mess neither family could afford.