Too Many Strings Attached

Iyana went back to her room and checked her phone. A civil servant was caught in a loan shark scandal. Photos of a famous singer, exposed as a mistress, had surfaced online. The story hit the top of the trending list. Soon, the photos of her and Claude vanished from the search results.

She changed clothes, then came back downstairs. There, in the sitting room, she spotted Alexa Coquia laughing with Madam. Madam held a bouquet of fresh flowers and warmly invited Alexa to join them for dinner. Charis stood nearby, offering the occasional faint, scornful smile. Iyana said nothing. They made their way to the dining hall and took their seats as dinner was served. Light banter floated around the table.

Then a tall figure stepped into the hall.

Claude.

They all greeted him. Alexa even stood.

He spared her a brief glance, then walked past without a word. 

He took the seat beside Iyana. 

Dinner began. 

Charis chatted brightly with Iyana. Madam laughed often. Alexa joined the conversation here and there, but mostly, she watched Claude from across the table. He ate in silence. Charis leaned closer to Iyana and asked about solar panels for the villas in the south.

"The south is windy," Iyana replied. "So you need solar panels that perform better in harsh conditions." She mentioned self-healing solar cells that could repair minor weather damage on its own. M.U. had ongoing research in this.

"I'll recommend some brands later," she added.

"Okay, great!"

After dinner, Claude asked Iyana to visit his study. The room had a darker palette. A wooden table with a built-in chessboard was tucked into a corner, and a shallow bookshelf stood beside the sectional sofa. Another set of bookshelves, towering, across the room. Beside the desk stood a small accent table. Iyana sank into the sofa. Claude stood by the table, pouring whiskey into a glass. The soft clink of ice was the only sound in the room.

A knock sounded.

But before either of them could react, the door opened.

It was Alexa.

She entered, then stood just past the edge of the sofa, a little off to the side. 

"Auntie said you're here," she smiled, her gaze on Claude.

He only glanced at her, his face didn't change. 

He took a sip and poured again.

"Claude, actually—" Alexa stopped. 

Her gaze drifted—slowly, deliberately—to Iyana. 

Then slid back to Claude.

Alexa's smile froze.

She waited—for something. But he said nothing. 

Only the clink of the decanter.

"It's just…" Alexa's voice trailed off. 

But before Iyana began to step out, he spoke. 

"Say it." 

His voice was flat. Unhurried. Just loud enough. 

Then he walked to the sofa and sat beside Iyana. Crossed his legs. Set his cup firmly, steadily, on his lap. She glanced at him. He hadn't even asked Alexa to sit. Like he was waiting for her to report to the board. He was making this difficult for her.

Alexa watched him sip, then exhaled.

"Have you thought about that facility?" Alexa asked. "Father said there's a good area in Ipang City. Near the bay. It doesn't cost much."

"How admirable the generosity of Chairman Coquia," he said lightly. "But I've already done the searching."

Iyana glanced at Claude. She wanted to leave the room. Or at least drift back—maybe toward the bookshelves. But he gently took her hand, never looking at her. As if he knew.

"You—you have?" Alexa blurted, eyes widening. "Why? I mean... Father offered a better area, maybe even cheaper. Ipang's a growing tech hub."

"So what if everyone thinks otherwise," he said. "You're right, though, your father would've offered a better deal."

"But you rejected it." Her voice rose, shaky. "Father really worked hard to make that happen. He even turned down other offers. Claude—why—I? Is it because you both don't see eye to eye?"

He moved his glass, slow and idle.

"If only I could work with your father purely as a business partner," he said. "Things might've been different—even if we disagree."

"So why reject it?"

"Too many strings attached." He sipped.

Alexa's eyes fluttered, but she said nothing.

"Besides," he went on, "you're not involved in the facility project. You don't know it."

She gave him a long, searching look.

"Claude, really," she said, her voice trembling. "I'll inherit Coquia. Father will—"

"None of my business."

"Gosuico and Coquia are both part of the Bloc," she pressed, hands wringing. "They have so much to gain together. There's hardly anything to change—if they just unite."

"I'm not the clan head, Miss Coquia. Make that pitch to the Elder."

"But everyone knows you're the de facto leader. You hold more weight than anyone. Gosuico is just waiting for you to make up your mind."

"You speak like someone who understands," he said dryly. "You don't."

Then, colder:

"As for alliances, don't bother. I've already torn Gosuico apart to ensure it never needs one."

Alexa flinched. 

Her jaw tightened.

"So you really don't like us," she whispered. "You'll go to any length just to stay away."

 She grimaced.

"Have you forgotten how we saved the old man's life?"

Iyana saw that Claude's hand stopped moving. 

She knew, among the elite, a debt of gratitude carried weight. 

Sometimes more than money.

"First of all," Claude said, voice flat, "you don't ask for anything in return for saving someone's life." He gave a faint shrug. "That's worse than a straight-up scam. But Gosuico isn't cold. It paid what was fair. And it did. So I don't know why Coquia keeps bringing it up."

"No—I mean—why avoid us like this? Why… so cold? So heartless?" Alexa's breath hitched "All we ever wanted was to hold on to what we had. To make it stronger. That's what the old man wanted too. And now it just feels… cruel. Like you don't care at all."

Claude tilted his head slightly.

"That's a bit much," he said, almost amused. "Even when you barged in here, I didn't take it personally."

He sipped.

"But now, seeing your… energetic behavior, I can only assume you've read the news."

She flinched but stayed silent. 

Her hands clenched the corners of her dress.

A brief silence. 

"Have you seen enough?" he said.

Iyana cast a slow sideways glance at him. His dark eyes gave off a plain, hollow box. Not angry—just… bored. Like the entire exchange hadn't stirred him one bit. 

Then came the sudden burst of sobs. But before Iyana could even turn to look, Alexa had already spun on her heel and fled.

"Lian… are there more women like this?" Iyana asked, watching him.

He turned to her and set his cup down.

"Just one annoying fly," he said, lightly pressing her hand.

Iyana blinked. "You mean a tick."

She didn't think an heiress could be reduced to a mere fly.

A corner of his eye smiled.

"Alexa Coquia is just a spoiled, foolish heiress."

"I wanted to leave, you know," she said.

She couldn't even stand soap operas—and now, she'd just lived through one.

"I know. I'm sorry," he said, quieter now. "But she hoped you'd leave. I can't allow that."

When she didn't respond, he moved closer.

"Nan… if someone has to leave, shouldn't it be her?"

Of course, she knew Alexa's antics. So she sighed. 

"Yes."

"Don't… ever leave."

She gave a faint smile. 

He smiled too and pulled her close. His lips brushed hers—

Then his phone rang. They paused. When he leaned in anyway, she pressed her hands gently against his chest as the ringing continued. "Answer it," she murmured. "It might be important."

He let go of her carefully, reaching for the phone on the table.

"Speak."

His face returned to its usual blank stillness. 

Silence. 

Then his brows lifted, slowly. "You called just for this?"

More silence.

"You'll see her next week."

He set the phone down.

"Who was it?" she asked.

"A friend," he said. "He's the host at the party."

"A lot of people know now," she murmured.

He turned back to her and pulled her in again.

"It was you who exposed that singer's secret, didn't you?" she asked. "Or even the loan scandal?"

"It was Vincent."

She smirked. Of course it was.

"Nan," he whispered.

He pulled her in again, one hand sliding to her lower back, the other anchoring her wrist. His lips found hers—firm, hungry, no hesitation. Then his mouth drifted to the side of her neck. A breath, drawn in close. 

She closed her eyes and breathed in.