Maya Villanueva was thirty-two and had long stopped believing that love was something meant for her.
She wasn’t bitter — not anymore — but the scars of her last relationship still ran deep. A man she’d once trusted had left her with more than heartbreak; he’d left her doubting her own worth. Since then, Maya had chosen work over romance, building her life around the quiet strength of independence.
Now, she lived simply and worked tirelessly as a caregiver, moving from one patient to another, earning not just money but the comfort of knowing she was needed. Her kindness made her loved by many, but her walls were high — too high for anyone to climb.
She wasn’t the type to wait for rescue. She was the rescue — for others, if not for herself.
So when she took the job at the Del Rosario estate, she told herself it was just another patient. Another house. Another night shift.
But fate — and the people inside that mansion — had other plans.
All Eyes on You — Chapter 1: The Night Shift
The sound of rain greeted Maya Villanueva as she stepped out of the taxi, tightening her jacket around her. The Del Rosario mansion loomed ahead, half-hidden by fog and old trees, its lights glowing faintly through the drizzle.
It wasn’t the first time she’d cared for someone wealthy, but something about this house felt… different. Too quiet. Too cold.
Maya was thirty-two, and she’d long learned that silence could mean many things — especially in rich families.
She wasn’t new to night shifts, nor to loneliness. After all, she’d built her life around work — twelve-hour days, double shifts, and little time for anything else. It wasn’t ambition that drove her, but survival.
Love? That was a chapter she’d closed years ago.
Her last relationship had left her bruised — not in body, but in spirit. The man she’d once trusted had turned cruel, leaving her questioning everything about herself. Since then, she’d vowed never to depend on anyone again.
Now, work was her sanctuary. Caring for others gave her purpose — and control.
So when she received the call to take care of Mrs. Celeste Del Rosario, a frail woman recovering from an illness, Maya accepted without hesitation. A quiet night shift in a private home was exactly what she needed.
Or so she thought.
The butler led her inside, and the house swallowed her footsteps. The air smelled faintly of perfume and antiseptic. Family portraits lined the walls — smiling faces, elegant suits, and one man whose gaze seemed to follow her wherever she moved.
“That’s Mr. Hector Del Rosario,” the butler said when he caught her staring. “Sir’s away most nights. Business, you know.”
Maya nodded politely. “And Mrs. Del Rosario?”
“In her room. She’s been weaker these past few days.”
When Maya entered the bedroom, she found Mrs. Celeste Del Rosario sitting by the window, her thin hands folded on her lap. The older woman’s eyes lifted slowly, studying Maya with quiet curiosity.
“You’re the new caregiver?” Celeste asked softly.
“Yes, Ma’am. I’m Maya Villanueva.”
“Pretty name,” Celeste said with a faint smile. “Do you believe in fate, Maya?”
The question caught her off guard. “I’m not sure, Ma’am. I believe people make their own choices.”
Celeste’s smile deepened, as if she knew something Maya didn’t. “Then I hope you made the right one by coming here.”
Outside, thunder rolled again — deep, distant, almost like a warning.
That night, as Maya began her first shift, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone else was awake in the house. The soft creak of a door. The faint echo of footsteps down the corridor.
She turned toward the sound — and for a fleeting second, she thought she saw a shadow move behind the glass door of the study.
When she blinked, it was gone.
Maya took a deep breath and shook her head. “You’re just tired,” she whispered to herself.
But deep down, she knew — something about this house was watching her back.
End of Chapter 1
All Eyes on You — Chapter 2: The House That Watches
By her second night at the Del Rosario mansion, Maya had memorized the rhythm of the place — the creak of the hallway floors, the hum of the generator, the faint tick of the antique clock in the living room.
She’d also noticed something else: the house didn’t sleep.
Sometimes, lights flickered in rooms no one was supposed to enter. Other times, she heard quiet conversations behind closed doors — the kind of talk that made her pause, listen, and then remind herself to mind her business.
She’d worked for many families before, but this one… felt heavier. Like the walls carried secrets.
Still, she kept her focus where it belonged — Mrs. Celeste Del Rosario.
“Did you sleep well, Ma’am?” Maya asked gently as she checked the patient’s vitals.
Celeste smiled faintly. “Better, thanks to you. You remind me of someone I used to know — calm, but always thinking.”
“I try to be,” Maya said. “Sometimes that’s the only way to survive.”
Celeste studied her for a moment. “You’ve been through things, haven’t you?”
Maya looked away, her smile tightening. “We all have, Ma’am.”
Celeste nodded, as if she understood. “Then you’ll understand this — sometimes, strength is what people fear most in a woman.”
Before Maya could respond, a voice interrupted.
“Mother? You awake?”
Evan Del Rosario entered — casual, confident, and far too charming for someone who barely looked twenty-five. He carried a tray with tea and biscuits, flashing Maya a grin that didn’t belong in a sickroom.
“Good evening,” Maya greeted politely.
“Evening? It’s almost midnight,” he teased, setting the tray down. “You don’t rest much, do you?”
“Night shifts rarely come with rest.”
He laughed softly. “You sound like my mom’s doctor.”
“Then your mother’s lucky,” Celeste murmured, smiling faintly at their exchange.
Maya checked the oxygen tube, careful to ignore how Evan’s gaze lingered on her hands. She’d met men like him before — playful, privileged, and too used to attention. She didn’t hate them; she just didn’t have time for their kind of world.
Still, there was something different about Evan. His confidence had cracks — flashes of guilt or worry whenever he looked at his mother.
“How is she really?” he asked quietly after a while.
Maya hesitated. “She’s stable tonight. But she needs peace, not tension.”
Evan nodded, his jaw tightening. “Peace is a luxury in this house.”
That line made her look at him. But before she could ask what he meant, the sound of a door closing echoed from down the hall — slow, deliberate.
Celeste’s weak voice broke the silence. “He’s home.”
Maya turned toward the sound — her pulse quickening.
The heavy footsteps grew closer until Hector Del Rosario appeared at the doorway. He was in his forties, tall, calm, with a presence that filled the room without effort.
“Everything all right here?” His voice was deep, steady.
“Yes, sir,” Maya replied quickly. “Mrs. Del Rosario is stable.”
He nodded, his dark eyes resting on her for a second too long. “Good.”
Then, to his wife: “You should rest, Celeste. You need your strength.”
Maya noticed how his tone softened only when he spoke to Celeste — yet there was something guarded beneath it, something that didn’t match the tenderness in his words.
When he turned to leave, he gave Evan a sharp look. “We’ll talk later.”
Evan’s smirk vanished. “Yes, sir.”
The air shifted after Hector left — heavier, colder.
“See?” Evan muttered under his breath. “Luxury isn’t peace.”
Maya didn’t answer. She was too busy listening — to the echo of Hector’s footsteps fading down the hall… and to the strange rhythm of her own heartbeat.
She told herself it was just nerves. Just the unease of a new workplace.
But when she stepped out of the room later that night and caught Hector’s silhouette in the dim light of the study, talking quietly on the phone about shipments and deliveries, she knew — this house was more than a home.
It was a story waiting to unfold.
And she was already part of it.
End of Chapter 2
All Eyes on You — Chapter 3: Between Two Fires
By her third night, Maya Villanueva had learned two things about the Del Rosario mansion:
it was never truly quiet, and it was never truly honest.
The house creaked like it was alive — whispering secrets through its corridors. Sometimes she caught fragments of conversation late at night. Other times, she swore she heard a door open and close when everyone else was asleep.
Still, she tried to focus on what she was paid to do — care for Mrs. Celeste Del Rosario, who, despite her frail body, had sharp eyes that missed nothing.
“Did you rest at all, Maya?” Celeste asked softly one night as Maya adjusted her blanket.
“Rest is optional, Ma’am,” Maya said with a small smile.
Celeste studied her face. “You remind me of myself — always holding everything together, even when you shouldn’t have to.”
Maya hesitated. “I guess some people are built that way.”
Celeste reached out, her cold hand brushing Maya’s wrist. “Just don’t forget that you’re still allowed to feel.”
Before Maya could respond, the door opened.
Evan Del Rosario walked in, a cup of coffee in each hand and that same easy grin that always made the room feel lighter.
“Ladies,” he said, “midnight coffee delivery.”
Celeste chuckled. “Your father will have your head if he finds you up again.”
Evan shrugged. “He’s not here.”
His tone was too casual — the kind that tried to hide disappointment.
Maya accepted the coffee. “You shouldn’t spoil your mother this late.”
“She likes it,” Evan said, smiling at her. “And it gives me an excuse to talk to you.”
Maya rolled her eyes slightly but said nothing. She wasn’t used to flirting anymore — especially not with someone younger and far too charming for his own good. Still, there was something endearing about him. Beneath the confidence, she sensed a lonely boy who’d grown up too fast.
He sat beside his mother’s bed, watching her drift to sleep. “She deserves better than this house,” he murmured.
Maya frowned. “What do you mean?”
Evan hesitated, glancing toward the door. “You ever feel like… there’s something wrong here? Like this house hides things?”
Maya’s pulse quickened. “I wouldn’t know, sir. I just started.”
“Evan,” he corrected gently. “And trust me — you’ll feel it soon enough.”
Before she could ask more, a deep voice echoed from the hallway.
“Evan.”
They both turned.
Hector Del Rosario stood at the doorway, his expression unreadable. His presence alone seemed to draw the light out of the room.
Evan straightened. “Dad.”
“It’s late,” Hector said calmly. “Your mother needs rest.”
Evan muttered something under his breath but kissed Celeste’s forehead before leaving.
Now it was just Hector and Maya.
He moved closer to the bed, his hand brushing his wife’s arm. “Thank you,” he said quietly without looking at Maya. “For staying with her. I know it isn’t easy.”
“I don’t mind, sir. She’s kind.”
He nodded, then turned to face her. “You’ve done good work so far.”
The way he said it — low, deliberate — made her throat tighten. It wasn’t just gratitude. It was something heavier, something she couldn’t name.
“Thank you,” Maya managed. “I only do my job.”
“Still,” he said, his gaze holding hers, “you have a calmness most people don’t. It’s rare.”
Maya swallowed. “It comes with the job… and with age.”
For the first time, a faint smile touched his lips. “Age? You speak as if you’re ancient.”
“I’ve lived enough,” she replied softly.
There was a flicker in his eyes — recognition, maybe even understanding. And then it was gone.
“I’ll be in my study if anything changes,” he said, stepping back. “Good night, Miss Villanueva.”
“Good night, sir.”
He left quietly, but his presence lingered like perfume in the air — steady, masculine, impossible to ignore.
Maya tried to push the thought away. Men like Hector Del Rosario had nothing to do with women like her.
But later that night, when she passed by the study, she heard him speaking in a low voice:
“…the shipment must leave by Friday. No names. No signatures. We can’t afford another delay.”
Maya froze.
Shipment.
That same word she’d overheard before.
Her heart pounded as she stepped away quietly, careful not to make a sound. She’d learned a long time ago not to get involved in other people’s business.
But this time… she wasn’t sure she could stay out of it.
Because for the first time since her heartbreak, something — someone — had made her feel again.
And that feeling scared her more than the secrets she was beginning to uncover.
End of Chapter 3
All Eyes on You — Chapter 4: Whispers in the Hall
The Del Rosario mansion looked peaceful in daylight — sunlight streaming through the tall glass windows, the garden trimmed and flawless.
But Maya Villanueva had learned that beauty was often just a disguise.
She moved quietly through the halls, tidying small things as Mrs. Celeste rested. Her patient had slept better the past two nights, but the household still felt heavy — like the air itself carried unspoken tension.
In the kitchen, she found Lola Belen, the housekeeper, kneading dough with the same rhythm she used to whisper gossip.
“Good morning, Maya,” Belen greeted, her voice low but warm. “How’s Madam Celeste today?”
“Better, thank you,” Maya replied. “She’s stronger, though she gets tired easily.”
Belen nodded, her eyes darting toward the window before lowering her voice. “Keep her calm. Too much worry’s no good for her heart… especially with all that’s going on.”
Maya frowned. “All what, Ma’am?”
The older woman hesitated, wiping her hands on her apron. “You’re new here. It’s not my place to speak. But let’s just say, people who work for Sir Hector learn fast to keep quiet.”
Maya’s stomach tightened. “I see.”
“Just do your job, hija,” Belen added, glancing around the kitchen. “The last caregiver before you asked too many questions.”
“What happened to her?”
“She resigned. Quick.”
Belen gave a meaningful look — one that said don’t ask again.
Maya nodded, forcing a smile. “Thank you for the warning.”
But as she left the kitchen, her thoughts were racing. She’d been in difficult households before, but this was different. This wasn’t just family tension — it felt like a secret everyone was afraid to say out loud.
That evening, she found Evan sitting by the balcony, looking out at the garden. He had a book open but clearly wasn’t reading.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Maya said softly.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Thinking about how peaceful everything looks… until you remember it’s not.”
“Your mother told me you used to travel,” she said, sitting nearby.
“Used to,” he said with a short laugh. “Now I stay. Someone has to keep an eye on things.”
“Your father?” she asked gently.
Evan hesitated. “You mean Hector. He’s not my father. Not really.”
The way he said it — sharp, bitter — made her chest ache a little.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He shook his head. “Don’t be. You didn’t choose him.”
They sat in silence for a moment. The night air was cool, filled with the scent of wet grass and faint music from somewhere inside the house.
Then, quietly, Evan said, “You ever feel trapped in a place that looks perfect?”
Maya thought of her past — the promises, the pain, the loneliness that came after. “Yes,” she said. “And I learned that perfect things can hurt the most.”
Evan turned to look at her. For a second, he seemed like he wanted to say more. But then a low voice broke the quiet.
“Maya.”
She turned — Hector Del Rosario stood near the doorway, sleeves rolled up, the faintest trace of a frown on his face.
“Sir,” she greeted, standing quickly.
“I need to speak with you. About my wife’s medication schedule.”
His tone was calm, professional — but his eyes lingered, assessing. She followed him inside, aware of Evan watching as she left.
In the study, Hector poured himself a glass of whiskey before speaking. “You’ve adjusted quickly. That’s good.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He looked up at her, his expression unreadable. “Mrs. Del Rosario trusts you.”
“I try to earn that, sir.”
He nodded slowly. “Good. Then you’ll understand that trust here is… delicate.”
Maya met his gaze. “Meaning?”
He took a slow sip of whiskey. “Meaning you’ll hear things in this house — whispers, arguments, late-night calls. None of them concern you. Do your work. Protect my wife. Nothing else.”
His words were firm, but his tone wasn’t cruel. It was… protective. Or maybe possessive. She couldn’t tell.
“I understand,” Maya said, keeping her voice steady.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the faint clink of glass against wood.
Then he said quietly, “You’re not like the others we’ve hired.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It is.”
There was a pause — brief but charged. His gaze softened, just enough to make her heart skip. Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone.
“You may go,” he said, turning back toward his desk.
Maya left the room, her pulse unsteady. She told herself it was just tension. Just exhaustion.
But deep down, she knew something was shifting — in the house, and in her.
Because behind every quiet warning, every long stare, and every unspoken word…
she could feel it — the calm before something she wouldn’t be able to escape.
End of Chapter 4
All Eyes on You — Chapter 5: The Truth Between Us
The storm arrived just before midnight, sudden and furious.
Rain lashed against the Del Rosario mansion like the world was trying to wash its secrets away.
Mara Villanueva was in Mrs. Celeste’s room, checking her pulse for what felt like the tenth time that evening.
Something about her condition didn’t sit right.
The older woman’s breathing was shallow again, but her oxygen saturation was stable. Her blood pressure, though, had dipped — sharply — even after she’d taken her prescribed medication.
Mara frowned. “Strange,” she murmured under her breath.
When she reached for the medicine tray, one vial caught her eye.
It was labeled Diazetra, handwritten, no pharmacy stamp, no doctor’s signature. She’d seen Hector hand this vial to her twice already — both times insisting it was “for comfort.”
But comfort medicines didn’t lower blood pressure like this.
Her instincts — the same ones that had kept her alive through heartbreak and hardship — began to whisper something she didn’t want to believe.
A sudden clap of thunder made Celeste stir.
“Mara?” she croaked softly.
“I’m here, Ma’am,” Mara said quickly, holding her hand.
Celeste’s eyes fluttered open, glassy and distant. “Promise me… if something happens… don’t let him—”
“Don’t let who, Ma’am?”
Celeste tried to speak again, but the effort sent her into a fit of coughing. Mara quickly adjusted her oxygen mask. “Please don’t talk, Ma’am. Just breathe.”
But Celeste’s words stayed with her — heavy, unfinished, terrifying.
The door burst open.
Hector Del Rosario strode in, rain dripping from his coat, his jaw set in that calm, unshakable way of his.
“What’s happening?” he demanded.
“She’s having chest pain again,” Mara said quickly, keeping her voice level. “I gave her the usual medication, but her pressure dropped suddenly.”
He went to Celeste’s bedside, placing his hand over hers. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
The storm outside cracked again, echoing the quiet panic inside the room.
Mara handed him the oxygen mask. “She needs rest, not another dose tonight.”
Hector looked up at her sharply. “Are you questioning me, Miss Villanueva?”
Mara met his gaze without flinching. “I’m doing my job. I’m questioning the medicine.”
The air between them went still. His eyes, dark and unreadable, held hers for a long moment before he finally spoke.
“Leave it to me.”
She hesitated. “Sir—”
“Please,” he said more softly this time, the command melting into something weary. “Just… trust me.”
She stepped back, but her heart was pounding. Trust him?
The man who controlled the medicine.
The man his own son didn’t call “father.”
The man whose wife whispered not to trust him.
Later, when Celeste was finally asleep again, Evan appeared at the door — soaked, hair plastered to his forehead.
“I heard shouting,” he said, voice low. “Is she okay?”
“She’s resting now,” Mara replied.
He moved closer, his expression full of worry. “You shouldn’t be alone with him when she’s like that.”
Mara frowned. “Evan, he’s her husband.”
“Yeah,” Evan said bitterly. “Her husband who makes her sicker every week.”
Mara blinked. “What do you mean?”
He ran a hand through his wet hair. “You noticed it, didn’t you? Every time she takes something from him — that vial he keeps locked away — she gets worse. I tried to tell her once, but she defended him. Said he ‘knew what he was doing.’”
Mara’s chest tightened. Diazetra.
She lowered her voice. “Then why doesn’t anyone stop him?”
Evan looked away. “Because no one dares question Hector Del Rosario.”
Hours later, after everyone had gone to bed, Mara sat in the corner of her small room, staring at the vial she’d quietly pocketed earlier.
It gleamed faintly under the lamplight — clear, harmless-looking, like water.
But she’d seen too many bodies weakened by love and lies to believe appearances anymore.
Outside, thunder rolled across the sky.
Inside, her conscience did the same.
She knew she should leave this house — this family — before the darkness pulled her in completely.
But she couldn’t.
Because something inside her needed to know the truth — about the medicine, about Hector, about the look in his eyes that made her heart betray her logic.
Mara clenched the vial in her hand.
Whatever was killing Celeste Del Rosario wasn’t just sickness.
It was something far more deliberate.
And if Hector was behind it…
then Mara was already in too deep to get out clean.
End of Chapter 5
All Eyes on You — Chapter 6: Lines We Shouldn’t Cross
The morning after the storm, the air in the Del Rosario mansion felt heavy — not just with humidity, but with tension.
Mara Villanueva hadn’t slept much. The vial she’d taken from Celeste’s medicine tray sat hidden in her pocket, burning against her conscience.
Celeste was still resting, her breathing shallow but stable. Mara adjusted her blanket carefully before stepping out into the hall — only to find Hector Del Rosario waiting by the doorway, his eyes already on her.
“Good morning,” she said cautiously.
“Miss Villanueva,” he replied, his tone smooth but distant. “I noticed one of my wife’s medications is missing.”
Mara froze, heart hammering. “I locked everything after her last dose.”
“Did you?” His voice was calm, but his gaze was sharp enough to cut. “Because the vial I gave you last night isn’t where it should be.”
She straightened her shoulders. “That’s because I didn’t give it to her.”
Silence.
Hector’s expression hardened. “Explain yourself.”
“It lowers her blood pressure too fast,” Mara said firmly. “I checked her vitals. That medication isn’t listed in her prescription file. I don’t know what it is, and until I do, I won’t use it again.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re questioning my judgment?”
“I’m protecting your wife,” she shot back. “That’s my job.”
Hector took a slow step toward her, his voice low. “You’re in my house, Miss Villanueva. I decide what’s best for my family.”
“And I decide what’s safe for my patient,” Mara replied, her tone unwavering. “If you can’t respect that, then find someone who’ll just follow orders.”
For a moment, neither moved. The tension between them was electric — anger, respect, and something else burning quietly underneath.
Then Hector exhaled sharply, looking away. “You’re impossible,” he muttered.
Mara crossed her arms. “I’ve been called worse.”
And before he could respond, she turned and walked out — her heels echoing down the corridor like defiance itself.
That afternoon, she found Evan in the garden, fixing one of the broken lamp posts knocked over by the storm.
He smiled when he saw her. “You survived another round with my father, I see.”
“Barely,” she said dryly, sitting on the stone bench nearby. “He thinks he can control everything — even medicine.”
“That’s Hector for you,” Evan replied, tightening a bolt. “He doesn’t like anyone telling him no.”
Mara smirked. “Good thing I’m not afraid of him.”
Evan looked up, admiration softening his features. “I know. That’s what I like about you.”
Mara felt her cheeks warm, but she didn’t look away. There was something easy about being with him — no power games, no guarded stares, just warmth.
He sat beside her, close enough that she could smell the faint scent of rain on his skin. “If he ever gives you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll handle it.”
She smiled. “You’ll handle Hector Del Rosario?”
Evan grinned. “I’ve lived under his roof for years. I know where to aim.”
They both laughed, and for a fleeting second, it felt normal — peaceful, even.
But what neither of them noticed was Hector, standing by the balcony above, watching.
His expression unreadable. His knuckles white against the railing.
Later that evening, in the dining hall, the tension returned.
Mara had asked one of the house staff — Rosa, a nervous young maid — to bring Celeste’s evening medication. But in her hurry, Rosa accidentally dropped the tray, spilling the contents onto the floor right in front of Hector.
The crash echoed through the room.
“I’m sorry, sir!” Rosa cried, scrambling to pick up the bottles.
Hector’s temper flared instantly. “How many times have I told you to be careful? Those are not toys!”
Rosa’s hands shook as she tried to explain, but Hector’s tone was sharp, commanding — the kind that made the air itself freeze.
“That’s enough,” Mara said suddenly, stepping forward.
Hector turned to her, eyes blazing. “Excuse me?”
“She made a mistake,” Mara said, her voice steady. “No harm done. Yelling at her won’t fix anything.”
“This is my household,” Hector snapped. “You don’t get to tell me how to run it.”
“Then maybe start by remembering your staff aren’t machines,” she said coldly.
A heavy silence followed. Rosa looked terrified. Evan had just entered the room and froze at the sight of the confrontation.
For a long moment, no one breathed.
Then Hector said quietly, almost dangerously, “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”
Mara met his gaze head-on. “No, sir. Not when someone’s being treated unfairly.”
Something in his expression shifted — fury and frustration warring with something he couldn’t name. He stepped closer, voice low.
“You think your courage makes you noble, Mara,” he murmured. “But in this house, it makes you a target.”
She stared at him, unflinching. “Then maybe you should ask yourself why.”
They stood inches apart — neither willing to look away.
Finally, Hector turned and left the room without another word.
Evan rushed to Rosa, helping her pick up the bottles, while Mara simply stood there — heart pounding, breath shaking, but eyes steady.
For the first time, she’d seen Hector lose control.
And for the first time, she realized how much power she actually had — not just over Celeste’s care, but over him.
End of Chapter 6
All Eyes on You — Chapter 7: Secrets Behind the Door
After the confrontation in the dining room, something in the mansion changed.
The staff spoke in whispers again. Even the ticking of the antique clock in the hall seemed louder than before.
Mara Villanueva noticed it first in the mornings—Hector’s presence.
He no longer barked orders or raised his voice. Instead, he watched her.
From the end of the corridor, from the terrace, from the shadow of his study door.
It wasn’t hostility anymore; it was calculation, as if he were deciding what she knew and how much further she might dig.
Celeste’s color had worsened despite the adjustments Mara made to her medication.
The faint yellow on her skin, the constant fatigue—signs of something deeper than just illness.
Mara’s notes didn’t match the records Hector kept in the locked cabinet of his study.
One afternoon, Evan found her sorting through the files she’d copied into her notebook.
“Still trying to prove him wrong?” he teased gently, though worry lined his face.
“I’m trying to prove what’s right,” she said. “Something about her treatment isn’t making sense.”
Evan hesitated. “You think he’s… hurting her?”
Mara looked up sharply. “I think he’s hiding something.”
That night, the mansion slept.
Mara crept down the hall toward Hector’s study, guided by the dim glow of the lamp beneath the door.
Through the small glass pane, she saw him—head bowed over documents, a single tumbler of brandy beside him.
A voice recorder lay open on the desk.
She could just make out his words:
“The experimental dosage slows the progression. She doesn’t know it’s not part of the official trial.”
Mara’s breath caught.
He wasn’t poisoning Celeste; he was using her—desperate to save her through an unapproved treatment that no hospital would sanction.
The pieces fell into place.
The hidden vials. The secrecy. The outbursts whenever she questioned him.
It wasn’t malice; it was obsession—the kind born from guilt and love twisted into control.
A floorboard creaked. Hector looked up.
“Mara?”
She froze, caught in the doorway’s glow.
He stood slowly, the calm mask returning to his face.
“So,” he said quietly, “you’ve seen too much.”
Mara stepped inside. “You’re giving her experimental drugs without supervision. You could kill her.”
His jaw tightened. “Or save her.”
“You don’t have the right to gamble with her life,” she said, voice trembling with anger. “She trusts you.”
“She trusts me because I’m the only one trying to keep her alive,” Hector shot back. “Every doctor she’s seen gave up. I won’t.”
The silence between them was thick, dangerous.
For the first time, Mara saw the man not as the cold businessman—but as a husband drowning in the fear of losing the one person who’d ever stood by him.
Still, she didn’t waver. “Then let me help you do it right.”
He looked at her for a long time, searching her eyes for deception.
Finally, he whispered, “You don’t understand what you’re asking for.”
“Then explain it,” she said softly.
But instead of answering, he turned away, locking the drawer that held the vials.
“Some doors,” he murmured, “are meant to stay closed.”
Outside, the wind rose, rattling the windows.
Mara walked back to her room, heart racing—not from fear, but from the weight of what she’d discovered.
Hector Del Rosario wasn’t simply cruel.
He was broken—trying to save his wife by crossing lines that could destroy them all.
And now, she was part of his secret.
End of Chapter 7
All Eyes on You — Chapter 8: The Weight of Truth
The night after she found the recordings, Mara Villanueva couldn’t sleep.
Every tick of the clock seemed to echo Hector’s words—“She doesn’t know it’s not part of the official trial.”
Morning came gray and heavy. Celeste was weaker; her pulse irregular. Mara noted it all, heart pounding, knowing the secret locked in Hector’s study was the reason.
In the hallway, she met Evan. He was already watching her, eyes searching.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said quietly.
Mara forced a smile. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy, or scared?” he asked. “You went near his study last night, didn’t you?”
She froze. “Evan—”
“Don’t deny it,” he said. “I heard him pacing until dawn. What did you see?”
Mara’s voice dropped. “Your mother isn’t just sick—she’s being given something unapproved. He’s using an experimental drug to keep her alive.”
Evan’s face went pale. “That’s impossible.”
“It’s true,” she said. “He thinks he’s saving her, but it’s killing her slowly.”
Evan turned away, fists clenching. “He’s done this before,” he whispered. “Whenever he’s afraid of losing control, he hides behind his work. He’d rather play god than face loss.”
They stood in silence until Mara placed a hand on his arm. “I need to fix this before it’s too late. But if he finds out I told you—”
“I’ll protect you,” Evan said fiercely. “Whatever happens.”
Later that day, Hector entered Celeste’s room unexpectedly.
Mara was adjusting the IV line when he spoke behind her.
“You were in my study.”
Her breath caught. She didn’t turn around. “You left the door open.”
“That doesn’t mean you were invited.”
“I had to know what I was giving her,” Mara said, voice low. “If you truly believe you’re helping her, then why hide it?”
He stepped closer. “Because no one would understand what I’m risking.”
“Maybe not,” she said softly, finally facing him. “But love isn’t supposed to look like fear, Mr. Del Rosario.”
For a moment his mask slipped—pain flickered behind his eyes. Then he looked away.
“Keep doing your job,” he said quietly, “and leave the rest to me.”
That evening, Evan found her again on the veranda.
Below them, the city lights shimmered like a thousand unspoken choices.
He handed her a small envelope. “If you ever need to leave this place, go to this address. It’s a clinic that can take your patient—safely.”
Mara looked at him, torn. “If I leave, your mother dies here.”
“Then we’ll leave together,” he said.
She didn’t answer.
Because from the balcony above, Hector was watching—not with anger this time, but with something far more dangerous: realization.
He knew now that she wasn’t just the caregiver.
She was the only person who could destroy everything he’d built…or save it.
End of Chapter 8
All Eyes on You — Chapter 9: The Quiet Before the Storm
The mansion had never been so silent. Even the wind seemed afraid to touch the windows.
Mara Villanueva moved through the halls with quiet precision, her mind still replaying the moment Hector caught her near his study. The look in his eyes wasn’t just anger—it was fear.
He was a man drowning in his own secrets.
And she was the only one who’d dared to reach into the water.
Celeste’s condition had stabilized, but only barely. The bruised circles under her eyes deepened, her voice now a whisper when she called for Hector.
When he came to her room, he lingered longer than usual—his hand resting on his wife’s pale one, his expression unreadable.
Mara stood quietly in the corner, watching. Whatever Hector’s sins were, his love for Celeste was real. And that truth made everything harder to hate.
Later that day, Mara sat in the garden with Evan. The sunlight softened his features, his usual teasing replaced by something thoughtful.
“You’re not sleeping,” he said quietly.
“I could say the same to you,” she replied, smiling faintly.
He sighed. “I keep thinking about what you said… about my father.”
“He’s not your father,” she corrected gently, “but he raised you.”
Evan nodded. “And now I’m wondering if everything he taught me was a lie.”
“Not everything,” Mara said. “Just the parts he was afraid to lose.”
Evan looked at her, eyes searching hers. “You still believe there’s good in him, don’t you?”
Mara hesitated. “I believe that people do terrible things for the right reasons. But that doesn’t make it right.”
He smiled sadly. “You talk like someone who’s seen both sides of love.”
Mara’s chest tightened. “Maybe I have.”
For a moment, the air between them shifted—soft, uncertain. Evan’s hand brushed hers, and she didn’t pull away.
Then a voice broke through the silence.
“Mara.”
Her heart dropped.
Hector stood by the veranda, watching them both. His expression was calm, but his eyes burned with something far more dangerous than anger.
“May I speak to you?”
Mara stood, pulse racing. “Of course.”
Evan rose as well, tense. “Whatever you have to say, you can say it here.”
Hector’s jaw tightened. “This is between your mother’s caregiver and me.”
Evan’s voice was sharp. “No, it’s between all of us now. You don’t get to control her too.”
Mara stepped between them. “Enough. Both of you.”
Her tone silenced them.
She turned to Hector. “If you have something to say, I’ll listen—but not as your employee. As someone who deserves the truth.”
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, quietly, “Meet me tonight. In the study.”
And with that, he walked away.
That night, Mara stood outside the locked door once again, heart pounding.
When she entered, Hector was already waiting—papers scattered across the desk, the same vial glowing faintly under the lamp.
“I’m ending it,” he said before she could speak.
“Ending what?”
“The treatment. The experiments. The entire project. You were right—it’s killing her.”
Mara froze. “What changed your mind?”
He looked at her then, eyes raw with exhaustion. “You did.”
The words hit harder than she expected.
“I saw what I’ve become through your eyes,” Hector said. “And I realized I’d rather lose everything than watch her die thinking I was the monster who destroyed her.”
He looked down, almost ashamed. “I’ve arranged for her transfer to a proper facility tomorrow. The rest… will end with me.”
Mara’s throat tightened. “You don’t have to carry it alone.”
Hector gave a faint smile. “You still think I’m worth saving?”
“I think everyone is,” she whispered.
The silence between them stretched—heavy, unspoken, full of everything they couldn’t yet say.
And for the first time, Hector looked at her not as an employee, or an intruder—
but as the only person left who truly saw him.
End of Chapter 9
All Eyes on You — Chapter 10: A Gentle Distance
The morning of Celeste’s transfer came sooner than anyone expected.
The house that had been filled with hushed voices and quiet chaos now carried an uneasy calm.
Mara checked the final set of vitals, hands steady though her chest felt heavy. Celeste smiled faintly from her bed.
“You look tired, dear,” she said softly.
Mara forced a smile. “I’ll rest after you’re settled at the clinic.”
Celeste’s gaze lingered on her, eyes warm but knowing. “You’ve done more for me than anyone else, Mara. Don’t lose yourself in this house.”
Mara swallowed hard. “I won’t.”
From the doorway, Hector Del Rosario watched silently. He hadn’t said much since their conversation in the study the night before. His usual commanding presence was replaced by something colder—controlled, distant.
When their eyes met, he looked away first.
Outside, Evan oversaw the ambulance preparations. His sleeves were rolled up, hair tousled, his expression determined but worried.
“Hey,” he said when Mara approached. “You okay?”
“I should be asking you that.”
He shrugged. “I’m used to this kind of chaos.”
“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” she said gently.
Evan looked at her, really looked. “You always say things that make it harder to stay calm.”
Mara smiled a little. “Maybe you need less calm and more honesty.”
He chuckled softly. “That’s dangerous coming from you.”
Their laughter was quiet—too soft, too close. And from the steps of the mansion, Hector saw it.
He stood there, expression unreadable, hands tucked into his pockets, watching as Evan brushed a leaf from Mara’s shoulder.
He didn’t speak. He simply turned and walked back inside.
Later that afternoon, the house felt hollow.
Mara was cleaning Celeste’s room when Rosa entered hesitantly.
“Ma’am,” she said, “Mr. Del Rosario told me to take over your duties for today.”
Mara looked up. “He said that?”
“Yes, ma’am. He said you should… rest.”
Rest. The word tasted wrong.
Mara placed the folded sheet aside. “Tell him I’m fine.”
“I already did, ma’am. He said it wasn’t a request.”
Mara exhaled sharply. “Of course he did.”
She left the room, frustration burning through her. She found Hector in the study, reading through a pile of documents.
“You told Rosa to replace me?” she asked, standing in the doorway.
He didn’t look up. “You’ve been working nonstop for days. You need time off.”
“I don’t need your permission to work.”
He looked up then, eyes cool. “You forget whose household you’re in, Miss Villanueva.”
She crossed her arms. “You forget that I’m not part of your staff—I’m here for your wife. Or have you forgotten she’s still alive because I intervened?”
His jaw tightened. “Don’t test my patience.”
“Then stop treating me like I’m part of your inventory.”
The silence between them was sharp, the kind that hummed with too many things left unsaid.
Finally, Hector rose from his chair, his voice low but steady. “You’ve grown too close to my son.”
Mara froze. “Excuse me?”
He stepped closer, the air suddenly heavy. “You spend time with him, laugh with him, let him believe things that aren’t true.”
She stared at him, anger and disbelief mixing in her chest. “And what would you know about what’s true, Mr. Del Rosario? You’ve built your entire life on secrets.”
His eyes darkened. “Careful.”
“No,” she said firmly. “You don’t get to lecture me about what’s appropriate when you can’t even face your own feelings.”
He didn’t move, but something in his expression cracked—pain flickering behind his calm facade.
Then, without another word, he turned away.
“Take the rest of the day off,” he said quietly. “That’s not a request.”
And for the first time, Mara realized that the distance between them wasn’t just anger—
it was fear.
Not of her words.
But of what he was starting to feel.
End of Chapter 10
All Eyes on You — Chapter 11: The Weight of Home
The bus ride back to San Isidro, her small coastal hometown, was quiet except for the hum of the engine and the faint whistle of wind through half-open windows.
It had been years since Mara Villanueva had gone home. Her work in the city had kept her busy, and she’d always told herself that sending money every month was enough.
Until a message from her cousin Nena came that morning:
Ate Mara, si Tatay Lando collapsed last night. He’s stable now, but he’s asking for you. Please come home if you can.
The words hit her harder than she expected.
Without a second thought, Mara had left the Del Rosario mansion — telling only Rosa, the head housekeeper, that she’d be gone for a few days.
She didn’t owe anyone else an explanation.
Not even Hector Del Rosario.
When the bus stopped at the terminal, the smell of salt and rain greeted her like an old memory. The narrow streets were still lined with small houses and makeshift stores, the laughter of children echoing in the distance.
As she turned down the familiar dirt road, she saw her older brother, Marco, waiting by the gate of their small wooden house. His shirt was stained with oil from the motorcycle shop he managed, his eyes tired but warm.
“Finally,” he said, half-smiling. “Tatay’s been asking for you since he woke up.”
“I came as soon as I could,” Mara said quietly.
Inside, their father, Tatay Lando, sat on the old bamboo bed, a blanket around his legs. Beside him, her younger sister, Ella, helped him drink water from a small glass.
Ella looked up and froze, then burst into tears as she ran to hug Mara. “Ate! You really came home!”
Mara hugged her tight, her throat tightening. “Of course, I did. You think I’d let Tatay get sick and not see him?”
Their father smiled faintly. “You’ve been gone too long, anak. But I knew you’d come when it mattered.”
“I’m sorry, Tay,” she whispered. “I should’ve been here.”
He patted her hand gently. “You’re helping us in your own way. But sometimes, your presence means more than your money.”
That night, after settling him to rest, Mara went out to clear her head — and ended up at the small sari-sari store run by her best friend, Lea Ramos, her partner-in-chaos from college.
Lea nearly dropped a bottle of soda when she saw her.
“Mara Villanueva! Look who the city dragged back!”
Mara laughed softly. “You still have a loud mouth, Lea.”
“And you still have perfect skin. Ugh. Sit down, I want every detail — new job, new boss, new heartbreaks?”
They were still laughing when a voice she never wanted to hear again called from the road.
“Well, well. Didn’t think I’d see you again.”
Mara froze.
That voice.
Rico, her ex. The neighbor who once promised forever and left her with nothing but lessons.
He leaned against his motorcycle, that same smug grin on his face. “Back in town, Mara? Or are you just visiting to remind us what we lost?”
Lea crossed her arms. “You mean what she escaped.”
Mara smirked. “Relax, Rico. I’m just here for family. Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Still got that fire,” he said, eyes glinting. “Guess the city didn’t tame you after all.”
“Some things aren’t meant to be tamed.”
His grin faltered, and for a split second, she saw something raw — regret, maybe — before he started his engine and drove off into the night.
Later that evening, as Mara sat beside her father’s bed, watching him breathe softly, her phone buzzed.
A message from an unsaved number — but she didn’t need to see the name.
You didn’t report today.
— H. Del Rosario
Her pulse quickened. She typed back:
Family emergency. I’ll be gone a few days.
A pause.
You should have informed me personally.
You made it clear I needed rest, she replied. I’m taking it.
No answer came after that. But as she looked at her father and siblings asleep in the dim light, a different kind of restlessness filled her chest — one that had nothing to do with exhaustion.
She told herself she was home.
But her thoughts kept drifting back to the man she’d left behind in the city —
and to the silence that said more than any words could.
End of Chapter 11
All Eyes on You — Chapter 12: The Ghosts We Carry
The morning sun slipped through the gaps in the wooden shutters, bathing the small room in gold.
Mara woke up to the smell of coffee and the soft sound of her sister humming in the kitchen.
It had been a long time since she’d heard that sound — the sound of home.
Downstairs, Marco was fixing the old electric fan that kept stopping every few minutes. Ella was chopping vegetables, her hair tied up in a messy bun.
Their father, Tatay Lando, sat at the table, smiling faintly as he watched his children fill the quiet house with life again.
Mara poured him a cup of coffee and sat beside him.
“You’re looking better today,” she said.
He nodded. “Because I finally see all my children in one room again.”
There was pride in his voice — and something else. Sadness, maybe.
She’d never asked much about her mother, who had left when she was fifteen. It was a wound they all learned to live around.
“You still think about her?” Mara asked softly.
Her father’s eyes grew distant. “Every day. But life doesn’t stop because someone leaves. You learn to stand, even if it’s harder without them.”
Mara nodded, her throat tight. She thought about all the nights she’d worked double shifts, the loneliness she never admitted to anyone. Maybe that’s what her father meant — standing, even when it hurts.
That afternoon, she met Lea again at the same sari-sari store, both of them sitting under the awning with cold sodas and a pile of peanuts between them.
“So,” Lea began, eyes twinkling, “tell me about this new job you’ve been so secretive about.”
Mara smiled faintly. “I’m working as a caregiver for a private family. The Del Rosarios.”
Lea whistled. “Rich people, huh? What’s the catch?”
“Too many secrets,” Mara muttered before she could stop herself.
Lea leaned in. “Secrets like what? The kind where the wife’s sick and the husband’s too handsome for his own good?”
Mara’s silence made Lea’s grin widen. “Oh my God. It is that kind of story.”
“Lea—”
“Don’t ‘Lea’ me, I can see it. You’re blushing!”
Mara sighed, looking down at her drink. “He’s… complicated. Distant. But there’s something about him—something I can’t quite understand. I shouldn’t care, but I do.”
Lea softened. “You’ve always had a heart too big for your own good, Mara. Just don’t let it break you again.”
Before Mara could answer, a motorcycle engine roared down the road.
Rico.
He stopped right in front of them, flashing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Mara. Can we talk?”
Lea groaned. “Seriously? Haven’t you done enough talking for one lifetime?”
“I just need a minute,” he said, ignoring her.
Mara stood. “Make it quick.”
He stepped closer, his voice lowering. “You look good. Better than before. I miss you.”
“You don’t get to say that.”
“I messed up, okay? I was stupid. But we had seven years, Mara. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
“Seven years of lies,” she said, her voice trembling. “Do you want me to forget how I found out you were cheating? Or that you lied to my father’s face about loving me?”
He flinched. “I’ve changed.”
“Then prove it by leaving me alone.”
She turned to walk away — but stopped when she saw a woman step out from behind a tricycle across the road.
She was holding a baby.
And calling Rico’s name.
Rico’s face went pale. “Mara, it’s not what you think—”
But it was.
It always was.
“Goodbye, Rico,” Mara said, her voice steady. “Some mistakes don’t deserve second chances.”
That night, after helping Ella with dinner and tucking her father in, Mara sat outside under the stars.
For the first time in years, she felt both heavy and free.
She pulled out her phone, scrolling through her messages — still no reply from Hector Del Rosario.
But somewhere in the city, Hector sat at his desk, unable to concentrate on the pile of contracts in front of him.
Every time he read a line, her voice cut through his mind — soft, stubborn, impossible to ignore.
He loosened his tie, rubbed his temples, and muttered under his breath,
“Where the hell are you, Mara?”
He told himself it was just concern — for Celeste, for order.
But deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple anymore.
End of Chapter 12
All Eyes on You — Chapter 13: Between Roots and Regrets
Morning sunlight filtered through the window curtains, dancing across the worn wooden floor. Mara stretched her arms and took in the familiar creaks of her father’s house — the hum of the old fan, the faint smell of rice porridge, and the gentle clatter of dishes from the kitchen.
She peeked into her father’s room. Tatay Lando was still asleep, his breathing steady. Ella sat beside him, reading from an old magazine, while Marco fixed a loose hinge on the door.
“Good morning,” Mara greeted softly.
Marco looked up, smiling faintly. “You’re up early. You used to hate mornings.”
“I still do,” she said with a grin. “But someone has to make sure you two don’t burn down the kitchen.”
Ella giggled. “We’ve survived this long without you, Ate.”
“Barely,” Marco muttered, dodging the towel Ella threw at him.
Mara laughed — the sound felt strange but good, like something she hadn’t heard from herself in years.
They ate breakfast together — warm pandesal, eggs, and instant coffee — simple but comforting. For once, there were no schedules, no alarms, no sharp words from a certain brooding man in a tailored suit.
After the meal, Marco went to check on their neighbor’s motorcycle, leaving Mara to tend to the small garden out back. She loved how peaceful it was — the scent of earth, the rustle of leaves, the gentle hum of the sea breeze.
That was where Lea found her, crouched over a patch of eggplants, wearing an old shirt and sweat dripping down her temples.
“Wow,” Lea said, hands on hips. “City girl turns farmer. Should I be worried?”
Mara chuckled. “It’s called therapy. You should try it.”
Lea squatted beside her, plucking a few weeds. “I’d rather let the weeds live. At least they don’t cheat.”
Mara smirked. “Subtle.”
Lea glanced sideways. “Speaking of weeds… I saw Rico lurking by the corner store again.”
Mara groaned. “Of course you did.”
As if summoned by his name, a familiar voice came from behind the fence.
“Mara! Can we talk?”
She didn’t even look up. “No, Rico, we’ve already done the ‘talking’ part.”
He sighed. “You misunderstood what you saw! That woman with the baby—she’s my cousin’s wife, not mine.”
Mara raised an eyebrow. “So now you’re promoting family drama instead of starting it?”
“I admit I cheated, okay? But there’s no baby! You think I’d lie about that?”
Lea whispered, “Yes.”
Mara bit back a laugh. “Rico, please. You had seven years to be honest. You failed spectacularly.”
He took a step closer, leaning on the fence. “I still love you, Mara. I know you still feel something too.”
“Yeah,” she said, reaching for something on the table beside her. “I feel this.”
She hurled a ripe tomato straight at him. It hit his shirt with a satisfying splat.
Lea burst out laughing. “Direct hit!”
Rico blinked in disbelief, staring down at the mess. “Did you just—”
“Yup,” Mara said, picking up another tomato. “Want to test my aim again?”
He backed away, muttering, “Fine! You’re impossible!” before storming off down the street.
Lea wiped tears from her eyes. “I swear, if nursing doesn’t work out, you’ve got a future in the military.”
Mara grinned. “I’m already armed with vegetables.”
They laughed until their stomachs hurt — the kind of laughter that heals little cracks in the heart.
That night, after Ella and Marco had gone to bed, Mara sat on the porch with her phone. The stars above San Isidro glittered faintly, reflected in the dark water beyond the fields.
She hesitated for a moment before opening her messages.
Mara: Hi, Rosa. How’s Ma’am Celeste tonight?
The reply came a few minutes later.
Rosa: She’s stable, Miss Mara. Still asking for you every morning. Mr. Del Rosario’s been quiet lately. Stays in his office most of the day.
Mara exhaled, her heart tightening.
Mara: I’ll return once Tatay’s stronger. Please tell Ma’am Celeste I’ll visit soon.
Rosa: Of course. Take care of yourself too, hija.
She put the phone down and looked at the moonlit garden. For the first time in a long while, her life felt calm.
And yet, deep down, she knew that peace never lasted long — not when the past and present both refused to let her go.
End of Chapter 13
All Eyes on You — Chapter 14: The Storm Between Us
The rain poured harder as Mara walked briskly down the muddy path, heart still racing from what had just happened. Her hands shook, not from the cold, but from anger — at Rico, at herself, and at the past she thought she’d already buried.
Behind her, tires splashed against the road. She turned, half-startled, and saw headlights cutting through the storm.
The car stopped, and Hector Del Rosario stepped out, rain dripping from his coat.
He didn’t say a word at first — just looked at her, his expression a mixture of worry and restrained fury.
“What are you doing here?” Mara asked, voice trembling.
“I came to make sure you were safe,” he said simply. “Rosa told me about your father. Then I couldn’t reach you.”
“You shouldn’t have—”
Before she could finish, movement flickered at the corner of her eye. Rico. He was still there.
“Mara, don’t walk away from me!” he yelled, rain slapping his face.
“Rico, go home!” she shouted back.
But he didn’t. He lunged toward her — not hard, but enough to make her stumble back in fear.
And in that instant, Hector was there.
He grabbed Rico by the collar, pulling him away with a force that sent him reeling. “Don’t touch her,” he said, voice low, lethal calm beneath the rain.
Rico tried to glare back but saw the look in Hector’s eyes — not anger, but the kind of warning that made men back down.
He spat into the mud and walked away, muttering curses until the sound of his motorcycle faded into the night.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The only sound was the rain hitting the tin roof nearby.
Then Hector looked at Mara — his tone softer now. “Are you all right?”
She nodded shakily, hugging her arms. “I am now.”
He handed her his handkerchief. “You shouldn’t have to face people like that alone.”
Her voice cracked. “He wasn’t always like that… but I guess some people never really change.”
Hector’s eyes lingered on her. “That man doesn’t deserve to stand in the same space as you.”
Something inside her shifted — not romance yet, but recognition. The quiet understanding of someone who’d seen pain and chosen to listen.
“Come on,” she said finally. “You shouldn’t be standing in the rain. My house isn’t far.”
The House
When Mara opened the wooden door, the warm light from inside spilled over them.
“Tay?” she called.
Her father, Tatay Lando, emerged from his room with a surprised look. “Mara? You’re soaked! And who’s this—” His eyes landed on Hector, and his brows shot up. “You brought home a man?”
“Tay!” she said quickly, mortified. “He just helped me, that’s all!”
Ella came running from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “Ate, who—” She froze. “Oh my. Ate, he’s… tall.”
Marco appeared next, holding a flashlight. “Whoa. You didn’t mention your rescuer looked like a senator.”
Mara covered her face. “Can you all stop?”
Hector, surprisingly, smiled. “Good evening. I’m Hector.”
Her father stepped forward, extending a hand. “Well, Hector, anyone who helps my daughter is welcome here. Come in, come in! You’re drenched.”
“It’s really not necessary—”
“Nonsense!” Tatay insisted, pulling out a chair. “We don’t let guests leave hungry. Especially the ones who save my daughter.”
Mara whispered to him, “Tay, please, he’s my employer—”
Tatay blinked. “Employer?”
Marco’s eyes widened. “Wait… Mr. Del Rosario? That Mr. Del Rosario?”
Ella gasped. “From the magazines?”
Mara groaned. “Oh no.”
Her father, on the other hand, grinned like a boy. “So the boss came to visit, huh? Then he’s eating here, no excuses.”
Hector chuckled — an honest, unguarded sound. “I’d be honored, sir.”
Dinner
Minutes later, Hector sat at their small dining table, steam rising from bowls of rice and tinola. He looked oddly at ease, sleeves rolled up, rain drying in his hair.
“This looks wonderful,” he said sincerely.
Tatay Lando beamed. “You city people probably eat steak every day. But here, tinola’s royalty.”
“Then I’m lucky to be here tonight,” Hector replied.
Mara sat beside him, still blushing from her siblings’ teasing glances.
“So, Mr. Del Rosario—” Ella started, grinning. “Do you make my sister clean your mansion every day?”
“Ella!”
Hector laughed quietly. “No, your sister’s not just hardworking—she’s the most capable person in that house.”
Mara blinked, taken aback by the compliment. “You don’t have to say that.”
“It’s not flattery,” Hector said. “It’s fact.”
The table fell silent for a moment — until Tatay leaned back, smiling slyly. “Hmm. You talk like a man who trusts her.”
“I do,” Hector admitted. “Probably more than I should.”
Mara felt her heartbeat stumble, caught between embarrassment and something deeper.
After Dinner
Later, when the dishes were done and the rain had faded to a soft drizzle, Mara and Hector stepped out to the small porch.
“It’s quiet here,” Hector said, watching the fireflies blink among the banana trees.
“It’s home,” Mara replied softly. “Not much, but peaceful.”
He nodded, his gaze drifting toward her. “Peace looks good on you.”
She turned to him, surprised by the gentleness in his tone. “You don’t have to keep being kind, you know.”
“Maybe I want to,” he said simply.
Before she could answer, Tatay’s voice called from inside:
“Mara! Tell your Sir Hector he’s not leaving tonight — the roads are flooded!”
Mara sighed. “Looks like you’re stuck here.”
Hector chuckled, his eyes glinting under the dim light. “There are worse places to be stuck.”
And for the first time that night, Mara smiled — small, but real.
End of Chapter 14
All Eyes on You — Chapter 15: The Night That Stayed
The rain hadn’t stopped completely, just softened into a slow, steady drizzle that whispered against the tin roof. Inside the Villanueva house, the air smelled faintly of ginger and soap.
Mara stood in the kitchen, towel in hand, watching as Hector Del Rosario—the man who usually commanded boardrooms—sat awkwardly on a wooden chair that creaked under his height.
He looked so out of place and yet… oddly right there.
Her father’s voice broke her thoughts.
“Mara, anak, get your guest a dry shirt! He’ll catch a cold!”
“I told him to go home,” she muttered.
Hector smiled faintly. “Your father won’t let me leave.”
“He won’t let anyone leave,” she sighed, disappearing into her brother’s room.
When she came back with a faded gray T-shirt and old jogging pants, Hector looked at the clothes like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
“They’re clean,” Mara said, crossing her arms. “And I promise, they won’t bite.”
He chuckled quietly. “I believe you. Though I can’t remember the last time I wore anything without a logo.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ll survive, Mr. Del Rosario.”
He looked up at her, smirking slightly. “Hector. You can drop the title when I’m in borrowed clothes.”
Her lips curved just a little. “Fine. Hector.”
A Conversation in the Living Room
Later, when he returned wearing the borrowed clothes, the sight made her laugh softly. The shirt was a bit short at the sleeves, and the pants barely fit around his frame.
“I see you’re adjusting to provincial life,” she teased.
“I’ll admit, I’m not built for it,” he replied, sitting gingerly on the couch. “But I think your father’s enjoying my suffering.”
As if on cue, Tatay Lando emerged from his room, holding two mugs of coffee. “Ah, good! You’re dry now. Here, drink this—local brew. None of that fancy machine coffee.”
Hector accepted the mug gratefully. “Thank you, sir.”
“Tatay,” the old man corrected. “No ‘sir’ here. We’re all people tonight.”
Hector smiled at that. “All right… Tatay.”
The older man grinned in satisfaction, settling into the seat beside him. “So, Hector, tell me. You really came all this way because you were worried about my daughter?”
Mara, who was sweeping nearby, froze mid-motion. “Tay!”
Hector looked up, choosing his words carefully. “I suppose I did. I didn’t like the idea of her being alone after what happened.”
Tatay nodded slowly, studying him. “You’re not like I imagined.”
“How so?” Hector asked, amused.
“I thought all rich men were cold and busy. But you’ve got that soft eyes thing. Dangerous, that one.”
Mara nearly choked on air. “Tay!”
But Hector laughed—an honest, deep laugh that filled the small room. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It’s not,” Tatay said teasingly. “It means women get attached too easily.”
Mara groaned, “Can we not talk about that?”
Hector turned toward her, still smiling. “Maybe he’s just being honest.”
“Honesty can be overrated,” she muttered.
“Not when it comes to you,” he said quietly.
Their eyes met for a moment—steady, lingering. The kind of silence that says more than words dare to.
Later That Night
Everyone had gone to bed. The only light left came from the small lamp in the corner of the living room, where Hector sat on the couch with a thin blanket.
Mara stepped out quietly, holding a pillow. “You don’t have to stay there. The couch isn’t comfortable.”
“I’ve slept on worse,” he said softly.
“You’re not used to this kind of place,” she said, sitting across from him.
He studied her face for a moment. “No. But it feels more like home than my house ever did.”
That made her pause. “You live in a mansion, Hector.”
He nodded. “Yes. But marble floors don’t laugh. Walls don’t argue or sing while cooking.” He looked around, eyes softening. “You have something rare here, Mara. Peace.”
She looked down, her chest tightening. “It’s messy peace, though. We fight. We worry. We survive.”
“Still,” he said, “you have a family that sees you. That’s worth more than anything I’ve ever bought.”
Mara met his gaze again, and for the first time since she’d met him, she saw not a boss or a man burdened by secrets—but someone searching for something real.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He tilted his head. “For what?”
“For coming when you didn’t have to.”
He hesitated, then smiled faintly. “You’d have done the same.”
She nodded, because she knew he was right.
They sat in silence for a while, the rain whispering against the roof, the kind of quiet that feels like safety.
Then Tatay Lando’s voice suddenly rang from his room:
“Mara! If you’re talking to Sir Hector again, tell him breakfast is at six!”
Mara groaned. “He’ll never stop calling you ‘Sir’.”
Hector chuckled, resting his head against the couch. “It’s all right. I think I like it here.”
She smiled, small but sincere. “Get some rest, Hector.”
As she turned to leave, he murmured, “Good night, Mara.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Good night.”
End of Chapter 15
All Eyes on You — Chapter 16: Morning Light and Muddy Roads
The rooster crowed just as the rain softened into a morning drizzle.
Mara stretched, her body aching from the restless night, and blinked when laughter drifted from the yard.
She peeked out the window and nearly laughed.
Hector Del Rosario, the man who ran an empire, was standing under the guava tree with Marco and Ella — sleeves rolled up, trying (and failing) to crack open a coconut.
“Sir, not like that!” Marco teased, shaking his head.
“You’re going to knock yourself out!” Ella added, giggling as she filmed him.
“I’m trying,” Hector said defensively, breathless but laughing.
Mara leaned against the doorway, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “You look like you’re losing a fight with breakfast.”
Hector turned, flashing that rare, boyish grin. “You could’ve told me it’s harder than it looks.”
“You could’ve listened when I said to watch, not swing,” she teased, walking toward them. “Now you owe Marco one coconut tree.”
He laughed again, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”
Breakfast Talk
They gathered around the small wooden table, plates of fried rice, eggs, and dried fish steaming under the morning light.
It felt strangely normal — almost too normal for someone like Hector.
Tatay Lando cleared his throat. “So… Hector,” he began with that mischievous glint in his eye, “you plan to marry my daughter?”
Mara’s fork froze mid-air. “Tay!”
Hector choked on his coffee. “I—uh—”
“Tay, please!” Mara said quickly, her face burning. “He’s married. His wife is sick. I’m the one taking care of her.”
The table fell quiet for a second, and even Tatay’s teasing grin faltered. “Ah… I see.”
He looked down at his plate, his voice softening. “Then you’re a good man, Hector. And you—” he looked at Mara “—you’re a kind soul.”
Hector gave a faint, grateful smile. “Thank you, Tatay. I’m just doing what I can.”
Mara looked at him then — really looked.
There was no arrogance, no distance in his face. Just quiet sincerity and exhaustion.
She realized, maybe for the first time, that the man sitting in her kitchen wasn’t just her employer — he was someone carrying a burden of his own.
The Road Home
A few hours later, Hector stood beside his car, ready to leave.
The sky was clearing, the air warm and heavy with the scent of wet earth.
Mara followed him to the gate, her arms crossed. “Thank you… for what you did yesterday. For showing up.”
He nodded, hands in his pockets. “I didn’t like the idea of you being alone after what happened.”
“You didn’t have to,” she said softly.
“I know,” he replied, his gaze steady. “But I wanted to.”
For a moment, neither spoke. The sound of distant roosters filled the silence.
“You should go,” she said finally, breaking eye contact. “You’ll be late for your meetings.”
“Right,” he murmured, stepping closer. “Take care of your father, Mara.”
“I will.”
He hesitated — just for a second — before leaning in, so quietly and naturally that even the wind seemed to hush.
A quick, gentle kiss brushed her forehead.
It was brief, unexpected, and over before she could react.
Mara blinked, stunned. “Hector—”
He stepped back, clearing his throat. “That was just… goodbye.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re terrible at goodbyes.”
He smiled faintly, the corner of his lips twitching. “Maybe that’s why I hate them.”
And then he was gone — walking back to his car, his figure growing smaller down the muddy road.
Mara stood there for a long while, her hand brushing the spot where his lips had been, her heart unsteady in a way she didn’t want to name.
End of Chapter 16
All Eyes on You — Chapter 17: Shadows Behind Closed Doors
Mara stepped back into the Del Rosario mansion, carrying a sense of unease she couldn’t shake.
The polished floors gleamed in the morning sun, the scent of fresh flowers masking the subtle tension she had left behind in her hometown.
Nothing happened, she told herself. It’s just Hector. Just a brief goodbye.
But deep down, she knew the quiet kiss in the early morning had changed everything.
Acting Normal
She moved through the halls with practiced grace, greeting Rosa and the staff with a careful smile.
Hector’s presence in the house seemed normal too—professional, distant—but Mara couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching her.
And she was right.
Later that night, as the mansion settled into silence, she realized her intuition hadn’t lied.
Hector appeared outside her bedroom door. Not a knock. Not a warning. Just… there.
“You forgot something,” he murmured, stepping in before she could react.
“Mister—Hector! How—why—” Mara stammered, trying to gather her words.
“I wanted to see if you were all right,” he said softly, a shadow in his dark eyes that made her heart beat faster. “After yesterday.”
“You can’t just—” she began, but he held up a hand.
“Don’t argue,” he said. “I don’t like pretending nothing happened.”
The Dark Side
Mara tried to look away, but his gaze held her.
“There’s something you need to know,” Hector said, his voice low, almost confessional.
She blinked. “About Celeste?”
He shook his head. “Not her. Me. Something I’ve never told anyone… not even Evan.”
Her stomach tightened. “Hector—what is it?”
He leaned against the doorframe, the light casting half his face in shadow. “There are things in my life that… could ruin everything you think you know about me. My business, my family—it isn’t always clean. And there are people who would kill to keep those secrets.”
Mara’s heart pounded. She had always suspected there were things he didn’t share, but hearing it now made her pulse race.
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“Because you need to understand who you’re dealing with,” he said simply. “And because… I trust you.”
Her breath caught. Trust? She had only known him for a few weeks. And yet, his words held a weight she couldn’t ignore.
The Game Begins
For the rest of the night, Mara tried to sleep—but Hector’s shadow lingered in her mind.
She caught glimpses of him later, subtle and quiet: standing just outside her door, leaving small messages via Rosa, appearing where she least expected him.
She tried to avoid him, reminding herself of boundaries, of her loyalty to Celeste, and of the life she had fought to maintain.
But the more she tried to ignore him, the more insistent he became—always just enough to unsettle her, always pushing her closer to something she didn’t want… and yet couldn’t resist.
End of Chapter 17
All Eyes on You — Chapter 18: Jealous Shadows
The Del Rosario mansion was quiet, except for the soft shuffle of Mara’s footsteps in Celeste’s room. She adjusted the blankets around her patient with practiced care, keeping her tone gentle.
“Just rest, Ma’am Celeste,” Mara murmured. “I’ll be here.”
Celeste murmured something incoherently in her sleep, and Mara’s lips curved slightly in a soft, professional smile.
The tranquility was interrupted by a polite knock.
“Come in,” Mara called.
Evan stepped inside, holding a tray of tea. “Morning, Mara. Breakfast for Celeste,” he said, setting it carefully on the side table.
“Thank you, Evan,” she said warmly, brushing past the faint thrill of seeing him. He had a calm presence, a gentleness that contrasted sharply with Hector’s intensity.
They moved through small talk about Celeste’s medications, her appetite, and minor comforts—everything professional, nothing personal.
Hector’s Shadow
From the doorway, partially hidden, Hector watched.
His jaw tightened as he saw Evan laughing quietly at something Mara said, the way her eyes lit up.
He told himself he had no reason to feel this way—she’s my employee, my obligation is to Celeste—but the jealousy burned anyway.
A subtle tension passed between Mara and Evan. Hector’s hand clenched at his side, and he quietly slipped away, refusing to let his presence disturb the calm of the room.
Mara’s Silence
Mara noticed Hector’s shadow had left but didn’t acknowledge it.
She focused entirely on Celeste, adjusting her pillow, smoothing the blanket, checking her vitals.
Nothing had happened. The kiss, the morning at her hometown—they were distant memories, buried under professionalism and care.
Still, every so often, Mara felt it: the weight of Hector’s eyes on her, the unspoken tension that hovered just out of sight. She pushed it away, reminding herself: Celeste comes first. Nothing else matters right now.
A Quiet Confrontation
Later, when Evan left the room, Mara paused.
“I’ll check her vitals again in an hour,” she murmured.
Unbeknownst to her, Hector lingered just outside the door. He saw every gesture, every careful movement.
She hadn’t noticed him—she hadn’t looked up once.
Hector’s expression darkened. His jealousy wasn’t loud, but it was sharp. She’s laughing with him. Smiling at him. But not me.
He walked away silently, his mind spinning.
Mara, unaware of his presence, carried on her work with Celeste, professional, calm… but deep down, she wondered if Hector’s shadow would ever leave her alone.
End of Chapter 18
All Eyes on You — Chapter 19: Jealousy Ignites
The mansion had gone silent. Mara sat on the edge of her bed, reviewing Celeste’s chart one last time before sleep. The room smelled faintly of lavender and old wood, but the quiet made her restless.
She didn’t hear the soft click of the door unlocking.
A shadow fell across the room, tall and familiar.
“Hector?” she whispered, startled.
He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes dark with something fierce—desire, frustration, and… jealousy.
“You think I didn’t notice?” he said, his voice low, smooth, dangerous.
Mara blinked. “Notice what?”
“That little smile. The laugh you gave Evan today. The way your eyes lit up with someone else. You’re mine, Mara.”
Mara froze, then laughter escaped her—soft, incredulous, teasing. “Jealous? Really? You? Mister Business Titan?”
Hector stepped forward, closing the distance between them, his voice dropping to a growl. “I’m serious. Every time he’s near you… I can’t breathe. I can’t—”
Before he could finish, his hands gripped her shoulders, pulling her toward him. Their lips collided in a kiss that was fierce, urgent, and claiming. Mara gasped into it, her hands instinctively reaching for him.
It wasn’t gentle. It was raw, heated, desperate. His fingers tangled in her hair, and she could feel the tension of every suppressed longing in his hold.
“I’ve wanted this for weeks,” he murmured against her lips, teeth nipping her bottom lip briefly. “I can’t pretend anymore. Not you. Not him.”
Mara tried to push him back, laughing nervously between kisses. “Hector! We… shouldn’t…”
“I don’t care!” he interrupted, his hands roaming her back, pulling her flush against him. “Not anymore!”
The kiss deepened, teeth grazing, breath mingling, clothes brushing. Mara’s pulse pounded like a drum. Every rational thought melted. There was only him. Only this.
He trailed kisses down her neck, eliciting a shiver, and whispered, “You don’t know what you do to me, Mara…”
Her laughter turned into a gasp. “You’re impossible!”
He smirked against her skin, lips trailing dangerously close to her collarbone. “And you love it.”
Mara’s hands gripped his shoulders as he spun her gently, pressing her against the bed. The world outside vanished—the mansion, Celeste, Evan. All of it. Only Hector remained, fiery and real.
Minutes passed as they explored the heat between them, words turning into murmurs, whispers of desire, confessions of fear, and truths neither had dared to admit before.
“Why… why me?” Mara breathed, fingers clutching his shirt.
“Because I can’t stand seeing you with anyone else,” he whispered back. “Because I’ve tried to hide it, but it’s impossible. Mara… I want you.”
Her chest tightened. “Hector… I…”
But he silenced her with a kiss, harder this time, claiming her lips, her warmth, her body. Every hesitation, every doubt, every secret longing erupted in that kiss.
Finally, they broke apart, foreheads pressed together, gasping for air, hearts racing.
Hector’s eyes softened slightly, the fierce intensity replaced by something raw, vulnerable. “No more pretending. Not with you. Not ever.”
Mara’s voice trembled, barely a whisper. “We… we can’t let anyone know…”
He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Good. Then it’s our secret… for now.”
And in the quiet of her room, with the mansion sleeping around them, they both knew:
Nothing would ever be the same again.
End of Chapter 19
All Eyes on You — Chapter 20: Whispers in the Study
The mansion was quiet, the soft hum of the ceiling fans filling the spaces between the ornate walls. Mara moved through the corridors silently, carrying Celeste’s breakfast tray with practiced care.
Evan appeared in the doorway, a warm smile lighting his face. “Morning, Mara. Ready for the day?”
“Always,” Mara replied, forcing her voice to remain steady. She avoided looking too closely at him, though she felt the lingering warmth of Hector’s presence from the night before pressing in her mind.
She carried Celeste’s tray into the room, placed it carefully, and spent the next hour attending to the older woman. Nothing happened. Nothing between her and Hector. She reminded herself repeatedly, It’s just work.
Hector’s Presence
Later, while rearranging some medications, Mara thought she saw a shadow from the corner of her eye.
Hector. Standing in the doorway, silent, watching her.
“Good morning,” she said softly, pretending to be casual.
“Good morning,” he replied, his tone calm but with an edge of possessiveness.
She busied herself with Celeste, refusing to meet his gaze. Every time her attention shifted toward Evan, Hector’s jaw tightened, subtle yet sharp enough to make her heart race.
Whispers from the Study
Once she finished with Celeste and stepped out of the room, Mara passed by the study. The door was slightly ajar. She froze, sensing muffled voices and low, tense murmurs inside.
Curiosity—and something else—pulled her closer. She pressed an ear to the door.
“…can’t risk it being exposed,” Hector’s voice said, low and commanding.
“Yes, sir,” a second voice replied. “Everything will stay under control. No mistakes.”
Mara’s breath caught. She strained to hear more, but the conversation shifted. She didn’t understand all the words, but the tone… the secrecy… the weight behind it… it sent chills down her spine.
Hector hadn’t noticed her there. He was so focused, so intense.
She stepped back, heart pounding. What is he involved in?
Professional Facade
Shaking off the unease, Mara continued her duties, but her mind couldn’t stop replaying the voices. She glanced toward the study again. Hector’s chair was empty now.
She reminded herself: Focus on Celeste. Focus on the work. Don’t think about Hector, his jealousy, or his secrets.
But deep down, she knew the night’s kiss and the study’s whispers had changed everything. Hector was no longer just her employer—he was a man with dangerous secrets, a storm she couldn’t escape, and now, a claim on her heart she wasn’t ready to resist.
End of Chapter 20