from the casual atmosphere of the café to the opulent setting of Sante, an upscale restaurant located near SM Makati. The time is now 6 PM. Cassy, her sister Star, Carlos, her father Ernest, her mother Minda, and her brother Lance are all gathered around an elegantly set, expansive table adorned with fine China and gleaming silverware.
As Carlos tried to slide into the chair next to Cassy, she smoothly but firmly placed her purse on it.
"Sorry, Carlos, this seat is reserved for my bag," Cassy said, a playful yet unyielding tone to her voice.
Star couldn't help but smirk as Carlos, slightly flushed, retreated to the seat next to Ernest. "He could use a little humility," she thought.
Carlos cleared his throat, "It's a lovely evening, isn't it?" he tried to reset the mood.
"Mm, yes. And you look quite dazzling yourself, Carlos. That suit must have set you back a bit," Minda complimented, taking note of the luxurious fabric.
Ernest felt a slight unease as he glanced at his casually dressed daughters. "I must apologize if my girls aren't dressed up to match the decor of this expensive establishment," he offered.
Carlos laughed it off, a hint of awkwardness coloring his tone. "Oh, no worries. We're here for the company, after all, not the couture."
Just then, Cassy's phone buzzed. It was a message from Altair in their group chat: "I'm nearby. Where should I park?"
"We're at Sante. Street parking should be fine; the area isn't too crowded," Cassy typed back.
Almost immediately, Theresa chimed in, "What are you scheming, Cassy?"
With a mischievous glint in her eye, Cassy responded, "Let's just say, I plan to become their worst headache."
The group chat erupted in a flurry of laughing emojis. Cassy put her phone back in her purse, her own private smile widening. She felt a renewed sense of confidence—tonight was going to be interesting, to say the least.
Ernest, sensing the energy shift in the room, cleared his throat, attempting to reel in Cassy's focus. "Cassy, how have you been? How's your schooling coming along?"
Cassy lifted her glass and took a small sip of water before replying, "I've been quite busy. There's a lot going on at school." Her voice was flat, clearly uninterested in discussing her academics at the moment.
From the corner of her eye, Cassy saw Star subtly nudging her under the table and flashing her phone screen at her. "Are you telling them about your boyfriend? If so, I'll let you build up some momentum."
Nodding subtly, Cassy acknowledged her sister's message just as a waiter arrived to distribute menus to the table. Everyone's attention shifted momentarily to the leather-bound booklets filled with exquisite culinary options.
"You know, Cassy, the steak here is out of this world," Carlos tried to make a culinary suggestion, obviously trying to break the ice.
"Actually, I think I'll have the Pasta and Chicken," Cassy said, her voice detached, as she handed her menu back to the waiter.
Not wanting to waste another moment, Carlos leaned into the table and said, "Cassy, to be frank, I've been interested in you for quite some time, and I think now is the right opportunity for me to pursue you."
Cassy looked at Carlos with eyes like ice. "Wow, so direct and without finesse." She paused, her gaze piercing into him. "And instead of approaching me directly, you decided to involve my family?" She paused once more for dramatic effect. "What's in it for them?"
The tension in the room became palpable; you could almost hear the collective intake of breath. Carlos was taken aback, clearly not expecting this line of interrogation from Cassy.
"What? Cat got your tongue?" Cassy pressed, her voice slicing through the awkward silence. "So, tell me, what's in it for them?"
Minda, visibly irate at this point, cut in, "Cassy! What's gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?"
"Why?" Cassy retorted, unfazed by her mother's displeasure. "I think my question is entirely appropriate, don't you?"
A smirk stretched across Carlos's face, clearly mistaking Cassy's silence for contemplation. "Very astute, Cassy. If you give me the chance, I'll enroll you in one of the finest international schools. Your brother Lance can have a managerial position in one of my companies. As for your parents, they can enjoy a lavish lifestyle in an upscale subdivision where I own several properties."
Cassy laughed, the sound tinged with both amusement and disbelief.
Carlos looked bewildered. "What's so funny about that?"
"Lance, do you mind?" Cassy addressed her brother, ignoring Carlos.
"We're in an expensive restaurant, Cassy. Could you please act accordingly?" Lance said, his tone stern.
Cassy shot him a dismissive look. "I don't care. Is that your idea of a good deal, Carlos? A school, a job, and a house? Do you think I can't provide those for my family?" She paused, collecting her thoughts. "But let me guess. All those promises come with the tiny detail that I'd have to marry you, right?"
Carlos took a sip of his wine, savoring the moment. "Ah, you're a sharp one. Yes, that's correct. Your parents are getting older, Cassy. They deserve to live a comfortable life."
Minda chimed in, her voice dripping with a mix of entitlement and annoyance. "Carlos is right, Cassy. After all the sacrifices we've made, we deserve to live well."
Cassy looked incredulous. She was grappling with a volatile cocktail of emotions: the urge to unleash her anger was at war with her more rational instincts.
"You know, Mom, I had a great deal of respect for you, but the audacity you're showing right now irritates me the most. It's like you see me not as your daughter but as a pawn in some twisted game," Cassy's voice was low, but every word was a punch.
Ernest's face turned a deep shade of red, his jaw clenched tightly as though he were physically restraining himself. He started to rise from his seat, hand half-raised as if ready to slap Cassy. Carlos caught his arm, subtly guiding it back down to the table.
"You have no right to speak to your mother like that! We're thinking of your future!" Ernest barely managed to keep his voice from rising to a shout.
"My future? Or is it your future you're concerned about?" Cassy retorted. "I'm quite confident in the path I've chosen. And believe me, I can provide for this family just as well as you think Carlos can. The question is, do you have enough faith in me?"
"But the answer is a resounding 'no,' Carlos," Cassy stated firmly, locking eyes with him.
Carlos chuckled, unshaken by her refusal. "You really think you can afford to say no? The odds are against you, Cassy."
"What's your real endgame here? There are plenty of women who would happily play into your hand. What makes you so persistent with me?" Cassy queried.
Carlos leaned back in his chair, meeting her gaze. "The answer's simple, really. I've been in love with you for a long time."
Cassy burst into laughter at the confession. "In love? You can't be serious. If you were truly in love with me, you would've acted long before today turned into a bargaining session."
She took a sip of water, contemplating her next words carefully. "Regardless of your claims, my heart isn't a property up for sale. It's already spoken for."
The entire table fell silent, gazes shifting and eyes widening in disbelief. Cassy's parents were visibly stunned, but Carlos wasn't buying it. A bemused expression crossed his face, as if he were mentally preparing his next move.
"Wait a minute! Why is this the first time we're hearing about this, Cassy?" Minda questioned, her voice tinged with disbelief and a hint of indignation.
"And since when did we say you could have a boyfriend before you graduate?" Ernest chimed in, his tone exasperated.
A smile crept onto Cassy's face, replacing the anger that had been there moments ago. "Isn't that ironic? You tell me I can't have a boyfriend and yet you're practically pushing me into Carlos' arms," she gestured toward Carlos, her eyes locked onto his.
Carlos chuckled dismissively, "You can claim to have a boyfriend all you like, but even if you're telling the truth, what can he possibly offer that I can't?"
The grin on Cassy's face widened, making it apparent she felt Carlos had just taken the bait. "You underestimate him because you know nothing about him," she retorted.
Carlos leaned back, looking smug. "Alright then, humor me. Tell us about this mystery man of yours."
"Yeah, I'm curious too," Lance joined in, a smirk on his face. "Is he just some lowly student with no prospects?"
Cassy gracefully tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before responding. "On the contrary, brother, he's already accomplished more than you could even dream of."
She paused for dramatic effect before continuing, "His name is Altair. He's 25 years old, and he works as a financial consultant."
Both Lance and Carlos erupted in laughter, thinking they had just caught Cassy in a lie. But Cassy remained steadfast, her eyes sparkling with a kind of conviction that hinted she was nowhere near done.
"I wouldn't be surprised if he's just another insurance salesman," Lance scoffed, his voice dripping with condescension.
"Yeah, no stable job and just working on commissions. Pathetic," Carlos chimed in, confident that he'd caught Cassy in a lie.
Ernest interjected, clearly trying to rein in the chaos. "Enough. Cassy, how did you and this Altair meet?"
"We crossed paths at a financial talk. I was just starting to dip my toes into the world of investment," Cassy explained, her tone turning reflective.
Carlos scoffed, "Ah, so he was also there as a novice investor, huh?"
"Quite the contrary. He was the main speaker," Cassy corrected, a note of satisfaction in her voice.
Carlos visibly choked on his drink at her response. Lance quickly tried to recover the situation. "Come on, it was probably one of those beginner-level talks. Even a small-time broker could be the main speaker there."
Cassy let out a soft chuckle. "That's funny coming from someone who doesn't even have a job."
Her icy reply clearly struck a nerve, as Lance's face flushed red. "If you don't have anything smart to add, you might as well stay silent," Cassy cautioned, her voice carrying a finality that made it clear she was done entertaining his jabs.
Ernest cleared his throat awkwardly, attempting to steer the conversation back to safer waters. "So, Cassy, how did your relationship with Altair evolve from that point?"
"After the talk, I had so many more questions that I wanted to ask him. So, we went out for coffee, and that's when I asked if he could mentor me personally," Cassy recounted.
"You initiated the mentorship?" Minda inquired, her eyes widening a touch.
Lance raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "You didn't think it was forward to ask for personal mentorship like that?"
Cassy looked at him with a smile, "When there's a chance for growth and learning, why not be proactive? Unlike some people, I don't sit around waiting for opportunities to be handed to me."
"Ooooh, snap!" Star chimed in, unable to contain her amusement.
"Star, be quiet!" Minda snapped, visibly irritated.
Cassy continued, "Altair agreed to mentor me. So, yes, we started going out. For educational sessions, which you could also consider as dates."
Star grinned at her sister, "That's some romantic setting you got there. Investment strategies over candlelight, huh?"
Cassy chuckled, "More like strategies over lattes and spreadsheets until midnight. It's different, but it's us. And it's educational."
Carlos couldn't help himself, "I bet not only 'sheets' are being spread during those sessions."
Cassy, rather than taking the bait and becoming emotional, saw this as an opening for a counterattack.
"Altair is a far greater gentleman than you'll ever be, Carlos. And if we're talking about 'spreading sheets,' know that I'd proudly spread myself to him—a man of respect and integrity—long before your name would ever cross my mind in such a context," Cassy shot back. Her tone was icy, but her eyes were ablaze with unyielding defiance.
"Cassy! Mind your language!" Ernest chastised, though it was clear he was struggling to maintain his own composure.
The room was thick with tension, the dim lighting casting shadows that seemed to mirror the doubting gazes that hovered over Cassy.
"No more side remarks?" Cassy's voice quivered, yet determined, "During our sessions, we got to know each other, and everything felt... natural."
Carlos tilted his head, his voice dripping with condescension. "Cassy, for someone telling a story, you should make it more... convincing." Beside him, Ernest nodded in agreement, his usual stern demeanor intensifying.
Lance leaned forward, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "Enlighten us, darling. Tell us more about this... Altair."
Drawing a deep breath, Cassy began, "Altair is... he's kind-hearted, understanding, and mature." She could barely finish her sentence when her father, Ernest, interrupted.
"How very convenient, Cassy. A financial consultant, you say? How surprisingly imaginative of you."
Cassy felt the walls of the room closing in, the disbelief from her family pressing down on her like a leaden weight. "Why would I lie about this? What would I gain?"
Minda, her face pinched with suspicion, remarked sharply, "Maybe to get away from Carlos, hm?"
Carlos laughed, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Crafting a fantasy man to dodge me? Cassy, I never knew you were so... creative. I'm flattered."
Every word felt like a sting, adding more strain to Cassy's already fragile composure. She clenched her fists beneath the table, her knuckles turning white.
"I'm not inventing him. He's real," Cassy protested, her voice gaining strength. "And let me tell you, he's a far better man than—"
"Than me?" Carlos interjected, his sneer evident. "Is that what you're trying to say?"
Cassy's patience wore thin. "Enough!" she exclaimed, pushing back her chair and standing up. Her voice trembled with a mix of anger and frustration. "I don't know what you want from me. You won't believe me, you belittle me, and for what? To manipulate me into following your narrative?"
The room held its breath, the atmosphere charged with tension.
The room sank into an awkward, stifling silence. Eyes darted nervously between family members, almost as if they were collectively holding their breath. Cassy's hand gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white with tension. Just as she was about to push her chair back and escape the unbearable scrutiny, she felt a warm hand gently touch her shoulder.
"The cavalry has arrived," a female voice announced.
Cassy spun around, and there he was—Altair. He was a vision in a casual grey hoodie and shorts, his presence immediately lightening the atmosphere like a fresh breeze in a stifocating room. Beside him stood a petite woman, stunningly beautiful, with long blonde hair— a mature, somehow prettier, version of Cassy. The woman clung to Altair's arm, and suddenly, Cassy felt an unfamiliar rush of anger, diverting her irritation from Carlos toward this new, unknown woman. For a moment, she wasn't sure who she wanted to punch more: Lance, Carlos, or this blonde anchor on Altair's arm.
"Am I late?" Altair asked, a smug smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
The mysterious woman let go of Altair's arm. Cassy's fingers subtly tightened around Altair's forearm, a discreet signal only they understood. He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her cheek, a simple act that unraveled the tension bound tightly within her.
"Sorry for the intrusion," the blonde woman spoke, pulling up a chair and settling into the middle of the table. She offered a polite smile before introducing herself, "Chloe Greyfield, at your service. I'm Altair's secretary, maid, assistant—well, pretty much everything except his girlfriend."
Altair glanced at Cassy, his eyes meeting hers for a brief but potent second. "Sorry to barge in like this. I saw Cassy through the window, and, well, I've been dying to meet all of you," he said, a confident tone threading through his words.
The room remained still, an intricate mosaic of shocked and bewildered faces—all except for Carlos. His earlier smirk had morphed into a puzzling smile, an unreadable expression that seemed to waver between disbelief and intrigue.
Feeling emboldened, Cassy stood up, her fingers interlacing gracefully with Altair's.
"Allow me to introduce everyone to my husband, Altair," she announced, her voice echoing with a newfound authority.
Altair, seemingly unfazed by the lack of reception, extended his hand for handshakes—first towards Lance, then to Ernest, and lastly, Minda. Each one paused, contemplating the outstretched hand but opting not to reciprocate. It was Star who broke the awkward cycle. Rising from her seat, she warmly grabbed Altair's hand and shook it vigorously.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Altair. Anyone who can make my sister smile is more than welcome in this family," Star proclaimed, her genuine smile serving as a stark counterpoint to the room's prevailing mood.
Not to be outmaneuvered, Carlos stood up and approached Altair, his demeanor casual but eyes scrutinizing.
"Interesting choice of attire for such an occasion," Carlos commented, his voice dripping with a thinly-veiled sarcasm as he gestured toward Altair's casual ensemble.
"Aww, thank you!" Altair retorted, his voice mirroring Carlos's sarcasm, a sly smile spreading across his face.
Just then, a visibly uncomfortable waiter made his way to the table, sensing the heightened tension that had come to define the room.
"Excuse me, sir, is there a commotion here? Do you have a reservation?" the waiter inquired, his eyes scanning the table as if expecting someone to erupt at any moment.
Without missing a beat, Altair discreetly pulled a sleek, metallic black card from his pocket, the silver AG&G logo reflecting light as he handed it over.
"Give this to your manager. He or she will know what to do," he said confidently, nodding for the waiter to proceed.
As the waiter hurried away, card in hand, everyone at the table seemed to hold their breath, anxiously awaiting what would happen next.
Carlos couldn't resist making a quip, "Interesting tactic there. Is that a 'give me free food' card you've got?"
Altair chuckled, taking the dig in stride. With a jovial tap on Carlos's shoulder, he motioned for him to retake his seat. Cassy graciously moved her purse off the chair beside her, clearing the way for Altair to sit.
"Ah, so you must be the one who's been fawning over my wife?" Altair inquired, his voice tinged with mischief.
The use of the word "wife" caught Cassy off guard, and she briefly turned away, her face flushed with a giddy smile.
"Ah, yes, the topic of conversation—Altair, isn't it? You're looking quite hale," Carlos observed before pausing. "And hearty."
Altair couldn't resist, "Not as much as I'd like. I've put on a few pounds. All thanks to my wife's cooking—it's nothing short of divine in this all-too-mundane world."
Ernest, Minda, and Lance couldn't contain their obvious irritation at Altair's laissez-faire demeanor.
"Wife? You seem awfully sure of yourself, calling her that," Carlos noted, somewhat sarcastically.
Lance chimed in, "Seriously, you just waltzed in here, and you're already calling her your wife?"
Altair turned to Cassy, feigning concern, "Is it too soon to call you 'wifey,' darling?"
Cassy responded without missing a beat, "Not at all, hubby," her smile wide and unapologetic.
At that moment, the restaurant manager arrived at the table flanked by the head chef and several other staff members. The manager executed a deferential bow, his face apologetic.
"On behalf of everyone at Sante, we apologize for any inconvenience our staff may have caused you. How may we make it right, Mr. Altair?" The manager's tone was reverential, further highlighting the weight that the little black card carried.
"No inconvenience whatsoever; we're just enjoying a family dinner," Altair assured the manager, his tone gracious.
The manager reciprocated the gracefulness, "Very well, sir. Please consider your entire order on the house tonight."
Altair took a cursory glance at the menu. "I'll have the dry-aged ribeye, medium-rare, accompanied by garlic mashed potatoes. And could you sprinkle a dash of rosemary on my steak?"
The head chef, standing attentively beside the manager, nodded approvingly, "A discerning choice, sir. And for the lady?"
Chloe flashed a confident smile, clearly at ease in this setting. "I'll go for the blackened salmon and a side of grilled asparagus. And for drinks, Asahi Super Dry for both Altair and me, please."
Carlos couldn't resist taking another dig. "Beer? Really? I would have pegged you as a champagne or fine wine sort of guy."
Altair looked Carlos directly in the eyes, his gaze unflinching. "I prefer to dine based on what my palate desires, not on what's socially expected or the price tag attached. I eat; I don't merely consume."
Clearly impressed, the manager offered a nod of admiration. "Your taste in both cuisine and rhetoric is remarkable, sir. Rest assured, your meals will be personally prepared by our head chef. We'll have them out to you shortly."
As the restaurant staff retreated, Carlos leaned in, changing the subject but not the intensity of the interrogation. "So, Altair, you're a financial consultant, correct?"
Altair acknowledged with a nod, "That's right. What prompts the question?"
"I'm curious about your investment approach," Carlos probed. "Would you classify it as conservative, moderate, or aggressive?"
Altair paused briefly before replying, "Well, if you must know, the best strategy often comes down to simple common sense."
Just then, waitstaff began setting dishes in front of each diner, including Carlos. It was as though the food had arrived as a buffer, filling the room with its aroma and temporarily muting the escalating tension between the two men.
"What kind of financial consultant are you?" Lance asked, not even trying to hide his skepticism as he began to eat.
Altair grinned, a picture of unflappable confidence. "The kind you'd be lucky to have as a future brother-in-law."
The overt cockiness in Altair's reply visibly irritated both Carlos and Lance. At this point, Ernest, Cassy's father, decided that the conversation required his input.
"What exactly are your intentions with my daughter, Mr. Financial Consultant?" Ernest's voice was full of parental concern but tinged with an undertone of disbelief.
Altair's gaze met Ernest's. "My intentions are straightforward—to support, protect, and love Cassy. She deserves nothing less."
Ernest scanned Altair's casual attire, his eyes narrowing. "How can you claim to support her when you're dressed like this? You say you're a financial consultant, but you certainly don't look the part. Forgive me if I find it difficult to trust you."
Before Altair could counter, Chloe chimed in, her voice imbued with a tone of finality. "Trust me, Altair doesn't need to dress to impress. His work speaks for itself so much so that he's the one selecting who becomes a client, not the other way around."
Altair turned toward Chloe, a knowing smile on his face. "Ah, speaking of which, how many clients do we currently have on board, Chloe? And what’s the status of our waiting list?"
Chloe delivered her response with precision: "We currently serve 37 clients, all of whom have chosen to retain our services—a 100% retention rate. Furthermore, there's a waiting list of 182 individuals, each of whom is more than willing to wait as long as it takes to become a client." Her words dripped with an unmistakable implication; they were in demand.
Altair refocused his attention on Ernest. "So you see, Mr. Mendoza, I would prefer not to be judged by my wardrobe but by my track record in the world of finance."
Carlos, however, wasn't yet ready to let Altair off the hook. "Impressive numbers, sure. But who exactly are these clients?"
Altair leaned back, locking eyes with Carlos. "You'll understand that discretion is a cornerstone of my profession. But rest assured, every single one of my clients is more than satisfied, and that's all that should matter."
As Altair's and Chloe's food arrived, the tension around the table thickened into something palpable, like a fog of suppressed emotions and judgments. Minda, Cassy's mother, finally shattered the stifling silence, her eyes narrowing as they settled on her daughter.
"Enough of this," she began, her voice tinged with a bitter finality. "Cassy, if you don't break up with that man, consider yourself disowned. You can start looking for a new home."
A cold hush spread across the room, and Cassy felt every pair of eyes turn toward her and then flicker to Altair. For a moment, the tension felt unbearable, like a thin sheet of glass ready to shatter.
However, Altair remained unflappable, leaning back in his chair and meeting Minda's gaze without a trace of apprehension.
"Do you know, life is a game of inches?" Altair's voice morphed from its usual casual lilt to a tone that was both confident and intimidating. "And right now, you're throwing away miles. If Cassy leaves your home, she walks straight into mine. She won't just find a home, but a fortress, fortified by love, comfort, and boundless opportunities. And, in case you were wondering, the chances of her returning to Carlos would become non-existent."
The air grew thick with the unassailable certainty of Altair's words. Cassy felt a surge of empowerment, buoyed by the rock-solid foundation of Altair's support.
She took a deep breath, and locking eyes with her mother, said, "Let's be perfectly clear." She paused, taking a deliberate sip of her wine, allowing the pause to amplify the weight of her forthcoming words. "If you decide to disown me, I'll move to sever all familial ties so quickly, you won't even have time to comprehend what's happening. I'll file for emancipation, and from that point on, you'll have no daughter to offer to Carlos—or anyone else."
The expressions on the faces of Ernest, Minda, and Lance shifted from shock to disbelief to bewildered contemplation. For perhaps the first time in her life, Cassy had claimed not just the narrative, but the power dynamic within her family. And she had no intention of letting go.
"Before you take any irrevocable steps," Chloe interjected, breaking the uneasy silence, "you should know this isn't just a one-way street. It's a one-way bullet train. Cassy and Altair won't just have each other; they'll have resources and connections that might make you question your sense of reality. Losing a daughter will be your smallest issue. You'll relinquish any role in her life—forever."
She paused for effect, every word dripping with a calculated blend of malice, intent, and grim satisfaction. "Consider. Your. Positions. Very. Carefully," Chloe warned, each word a nail in the coffin of their old family dynamic.
"But hey, go ahead, make that foolish choice," Chloe grinned, lightening her tone yet darkening her intent. "Give Cassy to Altair. I'm looking forward to being a godmother soon."
The room was electric—charged with tension, yet suddenly illuminated by stark clarity. In this dinner-turned-tense-negotiation, battle lines had been drawn and ultimatums laid bare. Clearly, Cassy and Altair had the upper hand.
While the faces across the table remained unreadable—frozen between indecision and neglect—the couple's message was as subtle as a sledgehammer: They held all the cards and were ten steps ahead.
Cassy rose to her feet, "Whether you approve or not is inconsequential. With Altair, I am at my best: confident, respected, and human. I want to be with him, period."
Following the heated exchange, Cassy, Chloe, and Altair exited the establishment, making their way to the parking lot. But they hadn't gotten far when Carlos hurried after them.
"Mr. Altair, might we exchange contact information? Whether for business or personal reasons, a network is a network."
"Absolutely," Altair said, handing over his phone to input the contact information.
Once the exchange was completed, Carlos leaned back and offered a half-smile. "You know, you went from a blip on my radar to a full-on signal. When Cassy mentioned you, you piqued my curiosity. Now, you've got my full attention."
Altair returned the smile, but his eyes sparkled with a daring edge. "Just tread carefully, Carlos. Dig too deep and you may unearth things you'd rather not know."
Carlos watched as Altair returned to his car, digesting the multi-layered conversation that had just unfolded. Whatever else could be said about the evening, it had been revelatory on many fronts.
And so, both parties retreated to their respective corners, the board now set for whatever would come next.