Tragedy Knocks Twice

. . .

After waking up with a terrible hangover, Jin woke up with fragmented memories from the night before.

"I love you, Zeirenne Lynn... " he recalled, "I f*cking love you."

He ruffled his hair. His face covered in complete frustration.

That morning, he left the Pontecelli Penthouse earlier than usual, determined to avoid stumbling upon Zeirenne.

"The stock prices are getting more unstable. What's happening Colton?" Jin queried infront of his graphs.

Assistant Colton stepped forward with a folder in his hands. Ready for a detailed incident report.

"Mr. Yang, it seem like the charts are turning into polls."

"Polls? For what?"

"It divided possible investors into supporting who they think would end up with Miss Lin."

Assistant Colton took a step back because of the sudden blizzard from his boss. "What?" Jin immediately surveyed the graphs. Silva International was winning.

"Colton, call every investment I rejected. Make sure to make them invest."

"But they had terrible propos-"

"Did I stutter?"

Assistant Colton could only breathe out of his nose as he nodded. "Right away, CEO Yang," before sprinting out of the room to scavenge for the archives.

At the same time, Andrei who was travelling Germany for an emergency situation, was notified of this matter as well.

Being in different parts of the world, they uttered the same name simultaneously, staring at the company standing at the peak of the graphs, "ILY Corporation?"

"I want to know this company better. You know what to do, right?" Andrei directed to Assistant Perry while his fingers fiddled a pen.

"Yes, Lord Terzo... I mean, Mr. Argenti."

Even with such distance from the three, the rumours kept on circulating and the stock prices have never been more inconsistent.

During this turmoil, the stock market was left vulnerable. The charts became a voting site for the ongoing love triangle. The investors were getting ahead of themselves, already thinking about the possibility of having the companies merged.

Nothing's been confirmed yet, but everyone had the same thoughts: if these CEOs were really dating, (doesn't really matter who's with who) a business relationships can progress into marriage (yes, they think way too far) and finally, a business merger. When companies merge, stock prices rise to its peak. Thus, the graphs turned into a voting poll.

Those who believe in the Lin-Young tandem placed their investments in CF&H, and those who believe in the Lin-Argenti partnership put their money in Silva International. In this biased scenario, like in arranged marriages, women take the men's name, thus they supported the two companies instead of ZA International.

In the center of this war was ILY Corporation, which invested billions of money to Silva International.

Inside this said company, a dramatic office scene started to unfold.

"That's right, call each and everyone of them." A woman in her 40s commanded.

"Madame, Zelenne Asia's stockholders are firm to their resolves. It's hard to find someone we can turn into ours."

"Why? Is she that promising? Even with such a disturbing rumor they still have her back?!" The employees of this company grabbed the ends of their shirts. They've never seen their CEO fired up to crush another company.

"Try harder! Bribe or recruit them... offer them lots of things!" She commanded.

"Should we find Zhi Lin's weaknesses?" Her assistant suggested.

Her eyebrows creased into a fine line. "You think I'd stoop that low, Assistant Chance?"

"I'm sorry, Madame."

* * *

On the other hand, Zeirenne who was about to leave for work was surprised to see tons of gifts and letters in front of her door.

"What are these?" She surveyed the pile before picking an envelope.

A terrible stench fanned her nostrils after opening one of the letters. Blood dripped down her arms as a cellophane burst upon opening an envelope. She decided to take everything inside and examine them one by one.

"This is unexpected..." she mumbled to herself.

A few days ago, she predicted this kind of morning greetings, but for a completely different reason. Before the Annual Doomsday Gala, she stamped the possibility of failing in her mind. And thought that she's bound to receive letters from their enemies after some time. But somehow, she succeeded on her task, yet she still got the red card.

None of the gifts were from her enemies, most were from different people threatening her for "stealing" their CEOs.

"They're all yours. Tsk." she said while shoving all the letters aside.

About to open the biggest box covered in patterns of colorful laces, her phone vibrated. There was an unknown message on the screen but before she could even reach out for it, someone knocked.

She stepped out of the counter, blood prints following her footsteps as she made her way to the door.

A man was standing with his back facing her, and when he turned around, Zeirenne furrowed her eyebrows. "Who are you?"

He shrugged. "You can guess..."

* * *

Tragedy.

A tragic event is bound to happen. And the bodies behind this grim future were all in the same mindset...

White Scoop Entertainment Agency was known for their dishonest ways of delivering news. Inside this very company, it was the time for the unknown office worker to reveal his identity. This is the story of Pedro Dominguez, a minimum wage journalist turned paparazzi.

"Where did you find this?" Mr. Gancho, the vile company's president said with a smirk on his face and a thumb drive in his hand.

"I received it via mail this morning." He said, gripping the helms of his shirt as he contemplated on his actions.

He was not so sure himself, if handing this file to Mr. Gancho was a good idea. But still, out of desperation, he found himself submitting it.

"Ahahahahhaha. I didn't know you had such connections, Pedro." Mr. Gancho stood from his seat, placing his hands on Pedro's shoulders. "I should've promoted you earlier."

"Pro-promoted earlier?"

"Yes, Pedro. Congratulations on your promotion!"

A sickening laughter choed around the messy office, and Pedro's mind was just as messy. His stomach churned in discomfort but his head rejoiced in silence.

"I knew it... I did the right thing." He let his mind muffle his conscience.

"Right. I have something very interesting at hand... Yes Mr. Del Rosario, I don't mind sharing it with you ahahahahah." His boss's evil intentions on the phone snapped him out of his thought. On the other line was another horrible creature from another crappy company.

He swallowed a huge lump in his throat as he made his way out of the evil room.

"It's okay... I'm just giving the answers to those asking for it..." he comforted himself once again.

The ride home felt longer than usual, aside from the consistent traffic, his thoughts made him anxious by the second. He passed through different cities as if riding on clouds--storm clouds. With a heavy burden, and a roaring thunder about to erupt.

As if being hit by a lightning, he jerked on his seat when the bus driver notified him of his stop.

After stepping out of the bus, he made his way past some dark alley with stray cats hissing at him, and dogs howling as if he was a ghost. He passed by a lot of drunk men circled around small tables toasting for drinks.

His stomach crumbled and he decided to pass one of the eateries to order dinner. "Good evening, Manang Cynthia... two servings of Adobo for take out please."

Manang Cynthia reached for her measuring bowl and a plastic bag. "How's Rina? Is she doing better?" She asked while scooping a generous amount of Adobo, adding more than what he paid for.

Pedro gave his best smile, and yet, it still tasted bitter in his mouth. "She's doing better, I guess."

"You still haven't found a donor for her?"

He shook his head. "Not yet."

Manang Cynthia's concern was plastered over her wrinkled face. "I hope your prayers can get answered soon," she said before handing his orders out.

"Thank you, Manang Cynthia." He replied, but deep in his mind was disagreement.

"Prayers? I don't have time to believe in prayers." He murmured while trudging the dark alleys before reaching a small cramped up room. He fixed his expressions before stepping inside.

"Daughter... I bought us some dinner."

. . .