Disclaimer: The author's imagination and passion are the only sources of inspiration for this novel, which is a work of dedication. Parallels between these pages and the past or present may be apparent to some readers, but they are completely coincidental. You are free to interpret this art anyway you see fit, and it is meant for your enjoyment.
The coast of Palawan experienced a false sense of calm the morning following the storm. The sky was a light, bruised purple, and the wind had subsided to a gentle hum. But inside the Summit Villa, the lingering electricity from the previous night still permeated the air.
The only harsh, clinical light in the room came from Elizien Mallari's laptop screen as she sat at the large mahogany dining table. Her fingers slid across the keys with a mechanical, desperate accuracy. She worked with objective truths as an auditor. And the objective reality she was holding onto at the moment was that the Vanguard Group's consolidated balance sheets contained three absentee subsidiaries that were illogical.
She pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose and told herself, "Elizien, focus." Numbers don't lie. People do. Billionaire pilots do. But numbers... numbers are safe.
Her clothes were still being laundered, so she tried not to notice that she was wearing a silk robe that the resort had provided. The sandalwood smell seemed to seep into her very skin, and she attempted to ignore it. Above all, she made an effort to ignore the man seated on the other side of the room.
Zayrius Tan was not working. With a cup of black coffee in his hand, he stood by the balcony and observed the mist rising from the limestone cliffs. He had exchanged his linen shirt for a plain white t-shirt that did little to conceal the strong physique of a man who had dedicated his life to battling flight controls. Even though he hadn't spoken anything in an hour, his physical weight and gravitational pull continued to threaten to take her eyes from the spreadsheets.
She lost focus when Zayrius abruptly stated, "You're overthinking the depreciation of the Palawan assets," in a low rumble.
Elizien's fingers hovered over the "Enter" key as she froze. She didn't raise her head. "I didn't realize pilots were experts in straight-line versus double-declining balance methods, Captain."
"I grew up in boardrooms before I ever stepped into a cockpit, Elizien," he added, turning around at last. The gentle thump of his feet on the hardwood floor echoed her heartbeat as he approached her. Leaning over her shoulder, he paused behind her chair. The smell of expensive coffee and fresh rain filled her nostrils as the heat from his body surrounded her. "The Ty family didn't lose that money. They moved it. Look at the intercompany transfers to the shipping line in Cebu."
Elizien's eyesight was blurry, but she forced herself to gaze at the screen. Her heart sank as she learned he was correct after clicking a few tabs. If her mind hadn't been repeating how his thumb had stroked her jawline the previous evening, she would have recognized the discrepancy she had been chasing for three hours as a straightforward shell game.
At last, she turned her head and muttered, "Why are you helping me?"
The distance between their faces was inches. The "Dragon of the Clouds" appeared worn out up close. His eyes were framed by thin wrinkles that revealed a man burdened by an empire he had never requested.
"Because the sooner you finish that audit, the sooner you'll stop using it as a shield," Zayrius remarked, glancing briefly at her mouth before returning his attention to her eyes. "You're hiding behind those numbers, Elizien. You've been hiding since we left Manila."
"I'm doing my job," she shot back, her voice shaking. "Unlike you, I don't have a safety net of billions to catch me if I fail. If I mess up this audit, my career is over. I don't get to 'hide' in a cockpit and pretend to be someone else."
Zayrius's face grew serious. The "grumpy" pilot had returned, his teeth clenched. "You think I fly because it's an escape? I fly because it's the only place where the air doesn't care about my last name. In the sky, the wind doesn't bow to the Tan family. The storm doesn't ask for my bank balance before it tries to flip my plane."
He stood up straight, creating a cold distance between them. "Finish your work, Accountant. The weather is clearing. We leave for the logistics hub at noon."
The following four hours were a haze of tirelessly, caffeine-fueled work. With an almost maniacal desperation, Elizien leaned into her job. Her mind spinning with debits and credits, she ripped through the ledgers. She located the missing entries, tracked down the offshore accounts, and compared the logistics fleet's fuel logs.
However, her gaze would uncontrollably turn to the balcony whenever she reached for a piece of paper. Now Zayrius was on the phone, speaking in a combination of Mandarin and Tagalog, his voice forceful and incisive. He was no longer the silent pilot; instead, he was the heir apparent to an empire, issuing commands that likely sent millions of pesos around the world.
Aling Rosa's voice murmured in her head, "Find the man who never smiles but whose eyes never leave you."
Elizien shut her laptop firmly. The audit was completed. After encryption, the report was sent. The shield has vanished.
As Zayrius hung up, she stepped out onto the balcony. With his silhouette framed by the dazzling Palawan sun that had finally broken through the clouds, he gazed at her. His eyes were darker than the storm they had just escaped, but the water below was a glistening blue.
As she said, "It's finished," her voice became steady for the first time.
"Good," he replied, tucking his phone into his pocket. He walked toward her, stopping only when the tips of his boots touched the toes of her borrowed slippers. "Then there are no more excuses."
"Zayrius, I—"
"Don't," he said, grabbing a loose hair and tucking it behind her ear. He touched without hesitation. "You spent four hours trying to prove you belong in a boardroom. But you forgot that you're currently standing on my island, in my villa, looking at me with the same look you had when you saw the cards."
Elizien told him, "The cards said you were a storm," and as he moved closer, she gasped.
He whispered, "I am," pulling her flush against him as his hands moved down to rest on her waist. The heat of his palms was too hot for the silk of her robe to withstand. "And you're the only thing I've ever wanted to crash into."
The professional world seemed like a dream from another existence, complete with Ayala businesses, tax laws, and the "Big Four" hierarchy. Only the sound of the waves and the man who owned the air could be heard here, beneath the wide Philippine sky.
Elizien's fingers finally dared to touch the nape of his neck, feeling the silky, short hair there as she reached up. She avoided looking at his hands. As she had been advised, she glanced into his eyes. She saw a future in them that no spreadsheet could foresee.
Whispering, "The audit is done, Zayrius," she said. "What happens now?"
Leaning down, Zayrius pressed his forehead to hers. He replied, "Now," with a promise in his voice that chilled her to the core, "We see just how high this plane can go."