After All

Marla and Maya

The Marino mansion sat bathed in the late afternoon glow, the golden sunlight filtering through the tall windows that lined the living room. The air was calm, almost serene, as Karl Marino leaned back in his plush armchair, watching the large flat-screen television. The room was spacious but cozy, a mix of modern furniture and family heirlooms that told the story of a legacy that had spanned generations.

Beside him, his son Rafael and grandson Ryoma sat on the sofa, while Rio, Ryoma's new wife, was curled up next to her husband, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. Monica, Rafael's eldest daughter, was perched on the edge of the couch, sipping tea and watching the drama unfold on the screen. They were all engrossed in the latest episode of Nang Ngumiti Ang Pangit, a dramatic soap opera that had quickly become a family favorite.

"Look at this guy," Ryoma muttered, shaking his head as one of the characters, the arrogant yet charming lead, appeared on screen. "He's causing so much drama, and for what?"

Rio chuckled softly, elbowing him playfully. "It's called tension, Ryoma. The more complicated, the better. It's what keeps us hooked."

Karl, ever the stoic patriarch, watched quietly, though the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement. Even in his old age, he had a soft spot for these shows. "You know," Karl mused, "back in my day, dramas weren't this ridiculous. But there's something addictive about watching people dig themselves deeper into trouble."

"Dad, that's exactly why you love it," Rafael teased, leaning forward to grab a handful of popcorn. "It's like watching a train wreck in slow motion. You can't look away."

As the family shared a laugh, the door to the living room burst open, and in strode Karl's daughters, Marla and Maya, their expressions sharp, clearly in the middle of an argument. Marla, the eldest, was visibly tense, her hands clenching and unclenching as she spoke.

"I don't understand why she thinks she can keep doing this!" Marla snapped, her voice a low growl. "Emiko's been extorting us for months, and it's getting worse."

Maya, her younger sister, was right behind her, arms crossed and frustration written all over her face. "I told you, we should've cut her off after the first time. But now she's got even more leverage, and it's not just money anymore."

At the mention of Emiko, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Even Karl sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing slightly. Emiko was their half-sister, the daughter of their mother, Emi, and her second husband, Takayuta Toshiro. While Marla and Maya had always been close to each other, their relationship with Emiko had been strained—further complicated by Emiko's manipulative tendencies.

"What is it this time?" Karl asked calmly, his deep voice cutting through the tension. "What does she want?"

"She's threatening to go public with some private family matters," Marla said, her voice tight with barely restrained anger. "Apparently, she's tired of living in our shadow and thinks she's entitled to more than what she's already gotten from us."

"Entitled is an understatement," Maya added bitterly, pacing the room. "She's trying to guilt-trip us into giving her more money. And if we don't, she'll spill everything to the media."

Karl's expression darkened as he processed the information. He'd seen his share of family conflicts over the years, but this crossed a line. Emiko had always been a problem, but now she was threatening the Marino name. Rafael, sitting on the couch, sighed heavily.

"Emiko's been doing this for years, Dad," Rafael said, glancing at Karl. "But she's becoming bolder. If we keep giving in, she'll never stop."

Ryoma, who had been silently listening, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It sounds like she's desperate," he said. "But what's her endgame? She can't think blackmailing you both will work forever."