31

It was a quiet Friday morning at the villa — one of those still, golden mornings that almost felt like grace. The air was warm, the coffee brewed rich, and Liam was on the floor with his toy cars, humming to himself while Lea flipped through her script notes by the veranda.

Ellie had just returned from a ride, her Harley's engine fading into the distance. She hung her jacket on the rack, her hair wind-tousled, cheeks flushed. There was color in her again — the kind of light that had taken months to find its way back.

She poured herself coffee, teasing Rafael who was crouched by Liam, helping him rebuild a track. "You should see yourself," she said. "You're officially retired, and your big project is Hot Wheels."

Rafael laughed softly, still kneeling beside his son. "I'll have you know, this is a structural masterpiece."

Lea smiled. "Our CEO of playtime."

It was the first morning in a long time that sounded like peace.

And then —

The world cracked.

The TV in the corner flickered, sound low at first — a headline rolling across the bottom of the screen.

BREAKING NEWS: WOMAN FOUND DEAD IN VACANT LOT IN CAVITE — IDENTIFIED AS MICHELLE S. COJUANGCO.

The room froze.

Ellie turned toward the television so sharply that her mug slipped from her hand, shattering on the floor.

The anchor's voice was steady, almost clinical. "Authorities confirmed that the victim has been identified as Michelle Santiago-Cojuangco, 54, wife of Senator Joey Cojuangco. Her remains were discovered early this morning in a vacant lot near Tagaytay. Police sources describe the scene as 'gruesome' — the body dismembered and scattered. Investigations are underway. Motive remains unknown."

Lea's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my God."

Rafael rose slowly from the floor, his knees weak, eyes locked on the screen.

Ellie didn't move. She didn't breathe. The color drained from her face until she was paper-white.

"Ma-mama..." she whispered, her voice cracking. "No. No, no, no—"

She stumbled backward, her legs shaking. Rafael caught her just as she collapsed into his arms, trembling violently.

Minutes blurred into hours.

The news replayed on every channel. Reporters swarmed the Cojuangco estate. Senators offered statements. "Tragic." "Unexpected." "Unthinkable."

But to Ellie, it wasn't just news. It was Michelle.

The woman who used to text her in secret, asking if she was eating well. The mother who slipped her chocolates when her father wasn't looking. The woman who had hugged her and whispered, "You're more like him than you think. Brave."

Ellie finally managed to move and sat beside Lea on the couch, holding her hand, tears streaming silently. Rafael stood at the window, his jaw tight, eyes distant.

The phone rang — once, twice — but no one answered.

Ellie's voice was small, raw. "They said... body parts."

Lea squeezed her hand tighter. "Don't think about that, sweetheart."

But Ellie couldn't stop. "She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve to die like that. She wasn't him."

Rafael turned, his voice low but trembling. "No, she wasn't."

By noon, the networks released more details: Michelle's driver was missing. Her car found abandoned off the highway. The investigators suspected an "inside job."

Beatriz arrived by the afternoon, escorted by Alex and two security cars. She moved with purpose — no tears, just fury buried under composure.

When she entered the living room, Ellie stood up at once, eyes red, hands shaking.

"Lola—"

Beatriz went straight to her and wrapped her in her arms. "I know," she whispered. "I know, apo. The world can be cruel to women who tell the truth and to those who love the wrong men."

Ellie clung to her, crying silently against her shoulder.

Rafael stood near the window, his voice flat, hollow. "He did this."

Beatriz turned. "You don't know that yet."

"I do," he said. "You've seen how he operates. He lost power, control, face — everything. Michelle knew too much. She probably wanted out."

Lea's hand went to her chest. "Paeng..."

Rafael's gaze was cold. "And now she's dead because she was the last person who still had a piece of his soul."

That night, Ellie didn't eat. She sat alone in the garden, knees pulled to her chest, staring at nothing. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves of the narra tree where her father once sat in therapy.

Lea watched from the terrace for a while before stepping outside. "You should rest."

Ellie didn't look up. "She texted me a week ago. Said she wanted to visit. Said she finally understood why I had to leave."

Her voice broke. "And now she's gone."

Lea crouched beside her, placing a hand on her arm. "You can't carry this alone."

Ellie's eyes glistened. "He killed her. I know he did. And I can't do anything about it."

Lea's tone was soft but firm. "You already did the hardest thing. You told the truth. You freed us all. Now you let justice find the rest."

Ellie shook her head. "Justice doesn't find men like him."

From the doorway, Rafael spoke quietly. "Then maybe this time, it will."

Ellie looked up at him — at the man who had been both victim and survivor — and for the first time, she saw something new in his eyes.

Not grief. Not fear.

Resolve.

Later, when the house had gone still, Lea found Rafael at his desk, staring at an old envelope — Michelle's last message to him, unopened. It had arrived weeks ago, through an aide, marked "private."

He held it like a ghost. "She knew it would come to this," he murmured. "She warned me once — said when Joey finally loses control, he'll burn the world before he lets it bury him."

Lea touched his shoulder. "Then we make sure he doesn't get the chance."

Outside, thunder rolled across the sky.

And in the villa that had once been a haven, the air felt heavier than ever — the calm before the next reckoning.