The Night Everything Changed :
I wasn't innocent. Not by a long shot. But I liked to think I was careful. That life had taught me how to survive. At twenty-four, I knew my limits—and how to keep people at a distance.
Working at the bar wasn't glamorous. I wasn't a dancer, a cocktail waitress, or a girl meant to entertain men with hollow smiles. I was a Customer Care Assistant, the one who handled complaints, smoothed over problems, and made sure clients left thinking everything was fine. Predictable. Safe. Almost perfect.
At least… it had been.
Most days started early. Manila was quiet before sunrise, the streets still half-asleep, the air thick with humid heat and exhaust fumes. I liked that quiet. It gave me time to think, to plan my day, to feel like my life was mine, even if only for a few hours.
I walked fast, head down, coffee in one hand, bag slung over my shoulder. Every glance from strangers reminded me to keep my guard up. You never knew who was watching—or why.
The bar itself was a predictable chaos I had learned to navigate. The hum of conversations, the clink of glasses, the faint sting of cigarette smoke—it was all familiar, almost comforting. I moved through it like a ghost, unnoticed but aware of everything. A couple arguing in a corner.
A man lingering too long at the bar. The shadows that sometimes moved differently than the people who cast them.
Then he appeared.
Sid Arius Aurelio D'Amato. Even thinking his name made my pulse quicken. Powerful. Dangerous. Untouchable. His presence didn't just fill the room—it owned it. People stepped aside without realizing it. Conversations faltered. Eyes followed him, but no one dared meet them directly. I had admired him once, from afar. His charm. His control. The darkness that clung to him like armor.
Dangerous. Magnetic. Lethal.
Admiration is dangerous when the object of it is a predator.
I should have looked away. I should have walked out. But I didn't.
The night I saw him fully, truly, was the night I learned just how wrong I had been. One glance, one careless step, and I witnessed a crime I was never meant to see. The man I had once worshipped revealed the monster beneath his polished exterior.
The precision of his movements, the cold calculation of every gesture, the raw, unfiltered danger—it made my stomach turn and my pulse race.
Fear gripped me first. Sharp, burning, undeniable. My instincts screamed at me to run, hide, disappear. And yet, beneath the terror, something else stirred—fascination, desire, the kind of pull that made my chest ache and my thoughts blur. I hated myself for it, hated the way my body reacted, hated the way my mind kept returning to him even as every rational part of me screamed to escape.
I tried to resist. I told myself I could walk away. I told myself I could survive this. But the more I struggled, the tighter the invisible threads around me grew. I was caught. Tangled. Already falling.
Before that night, my life had boundaries. Rules I understood. Lines I didn't cross. And I had my routines—early mornings, coffee, quiet walks before work, the safe familiarity of my small apartment. I had learned to rely only on myself, to trust almost no one. Friends came and went, but I survived alone. My dreams were modest: a better job someday, a life not dictated by fluorescent lights and drunk complaints, maybe freedom.
Sid changed all of that.
Every glance from him, every word he spoke, every shadow that clung to him pulled me into a world I shouldn't want to touch. A world built on blood, power, and secrets. And yet, I wanted it. I hated myself for wanting it, but I did.
I wasn't innocent. I wasn't naive. I was me—careful, observant, strong. And life had just reminded me that strength wasn't always enough. Some fires didn't let go once they burned. Some men didn't let go once they decided you were theirs.
And Sid… Sid had no intention of letting me go.