"Pretty Little Promise's"

Chapter 77 , Bankruptcy

Risa:

God dammnnn ansakit!!!

  I can't believe how  she can slap me  earlier.  From head to toe, she was practically fuming.  I was so embarrassed, I just touched my burning cheeks.  My face was so red! I just hid in my office.  No way I could show up like this.

I waited for Y/N to finish and hand over the documents before heading home, even though I wasn't done with my work.  Pagdating ko sa bahay, I immediately rested. It was only 4:30 PM anyway.

“Manang, where’s Sevi?” I asked, a little urgently.

“Tulog Ma’am,” Manang replied.

Thank goodness.

“Eh yung bagong  katulong?” I asked, shifting in my seat.

“Okay naman ho  Ma’am!” she said, smiling while wiping the banister. 

Sobrang sipag

“What’s her name?” i asm

“ah yun si Yuna, Ma’am. pamangkin ko yoon” she whispered.

“Oh, okay.  After you’re done, please take a rest, Manang. Let the other maid handle the rest.”

She swallowed hard. I bet she would have been cleaning until much later if I hadn't come home.  She’s such a sweetheart.

I pulled out my phone and saw tons of missed calls from investors.  Oh shitt.here we go again. 

So many of them are struggling financially.

Then I remembered what Alice said earlier

Could it be Grace who stole our ideas and gave them to other companies?  That would explain why we're falling behind.

It hit me—I need to call Imee. I instructed her to put a hold on all the finished projects, not to show them to the employees yet.  And I told her to find someone trustworthy to take over that kind of work.

Our partnership is still good, as long as there are no spies in the company. I have to investigate that other local company that’s been stealing our projects—the one that’s been our competitor for years.  It turns out Margaret Nograles owns it. I checked some of their project parts; those were my projects!

No wonder they have access to our information. My former secretary is now working for them.  I have to figure out how to get those projects back.

…

May 19, 2025

The 6:00 AM alarm was a brutal wake-up call, a jarring start to a day already heavy with dread.  I showered, got dressed—the familiar routine offering little comfort against the gulo-gulo brewing inside. Sevi, my daughter, was still asleep, a small, precious isla of peace in the maelstrom of my life. Downstairs, Manang’s masarap fried eggs did nothing to soothe the knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach.

“Manang, gising na ba si Sevi?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

her face etched with the lines of years of hard work, glanced up.  “Ah, eh, hindi pa…” she started, then her eyes widened.  “Oh, ayan na pala, gising na si Kulit!”

He is  in Yuna’s arms, mumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes. That familiar gesture—Sevi rubbing her eyes—kumurot sa puso ko. It echoed my own childhood, a reminder of simple joys I was too busy to appreciate.

“Yuna, right?” I asked, my voice strained.

She nodded, her smile bright and innocent, unaware of my worries.  “opo Ma’am.”

“Ingatan mo siya ha, ” I instructed, my voice tight with unspoken anxieties.

“Hehe, yes, Ma’am!”

Kneeling beside Sevi, my heart ached.  “Alisson, Mama’s at work until 4:30 PM, okay? Magpakabait ka kay Yaya.”

She snuggled into Yuna’s neck, her trust a painful contrast to the uncertainty swirling around me.  Her innocence amplified my dread.  Kailangan kong ayusin ito. I had to save the company, not just for myself, but for Sevi’s future.

The meeting loomed, a dark cloud. The partnership, once a source of pride, was a ticking time bomb. I needed a miracle, but the pressure was suffocating.

At the office, I gathered documents, my hands trembling. The conference room was eerily silent, amplifying my anxiety. I was late.

“You are late mrs. Hontiveros, ” Imee snapped, impatient.

I smoothed down my wrinkled skirt, a small attempt at composure.

“Bakit ka nandito? Akala ko may meeting ka sa Senado,” I whispered.

“Bukas pa ‘yun. Anyway, what’s our agenda?  Wala na akong perang ma-i-invest,” she said.

Desperation hung in the air.  A cold dread settled in my heart.

“I Uhm ” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.  “I can handle it.”

“and how?” she challenged.

“Just rust me,” I replied, my fear barely concealed.

I presented desperate plans, necessary adjustments, painful sacrifices. If the company couldn’t be saved, we had to end the partnership.  I offered salary increases, a desperate plea for loyalty.