The next morning dawned gray, as though even the sky sensed what was coming.
Before Bianca could sip her first cup of coffee, the rumble of engines echoed outside the hacienda gates. This time, it wasn't just reporters—two large vans with network logos rolled in, along with smaller cars carrying suited men and women. The air crackled with urgency, like a festival no one had invited them to.
Lydia wrung her hands. "Señorita, they're back. But this time… it's more. Too many."
Ramon muttered curses under his breath as he marched toward the gate again. "If they break down the fence, I'll—"
Bianca touched his arm gently. "No fighting, please. Let me handle it."
---
As soon as she stepped forward, microphones surged toward her again. Cameras clicked, bright and blinding.
"Miss Rodriguez, the nation is watching! Do you confirm these miracle cures?"
"Do you plan to commercialize the fruits? Will you allow mass production?"
"Are you hiding a medical breakthrough from the public?"
Bianca raised her hands, trying to steady her trembling voice. "Please—listen. I never claimed to heal anyone. All I did was sell fruits. Whatever people experienced… I cannot explain it."
But the reporters pressed harder, smelling blood.
A man in a neat barong stepped forward, flanked by assistants. He didn't hold a microphone but carried himself with the polished air of a politician. "Señorita Rodriguez, I am Councilor Villanueva. We commend your work here. However, given the overwhelming demand, perhaps the government should step in—ensure fair distribution, regulate sales."
Bianca stiffened. Regulate? That sounded less like help and more like control.
Before she could respond, another voice interrupted.
"Councilor, with respect, this is still private property."
Heads turned. A tall businessman in a tailored suit approached, sunglasses reflecting the morning light. He smiled smoothly at Bianca. "Miss Rodriguez, I represent a health conglomerate in Manila. If you allow us to handle production and distribution, you'll not only help millions—you'll become a wealthy woman overnight."
The crowd buzzed. Cameras zoomed in on Bianca's face, hungry for her reaction.
Her chest tightened. This was no longer about selling baskets of guavas. This was about power, greed, politics. And she was right in the center.
---
Back in the kitchen, the household was in chaos.
Lydia tried to comfort Paolo, who clung to her skirt, frightened by the crowd outside. Ramon stomped about angrily, muttering about "snakes in suits." Lara was on the phone, juggling calls from influencers, vloggers, and even local officials begging for interviews.
"This is getting out of hand," Bianca whispered.
Kaloy leapt onto the table, tail flicking. His golden eyes glowed faintly as he looked at her. "The land feels torn, mistress. Too many eyes, too many hands reaching. They do not come to honor—it is hunger that drives them."
Bianca stroked his fur absently, her gaze distant.
She wanted to help. She truly did. Every time she pictured Enzo's grandmother smiling, she felt a surge of hope that her family's land was finally fulfilling its purpose. But now, with journalists hammering questions, politicians offering regulations, and businessmen dangling promises, she felt less like a caretaker and more like prey.
And deep in the orchard, unseen by all, a shadow lingered among the trees—the mysterious man. His sharp eyes never left the crowd at the gates. He had expected this moment to come, but even he hadn't imagined it would escalate so quickly.
He whispered to himself, voice low and grim: "The vultures have smelled the blood."
---
End of Chapter 30