The quiet hum of the city barely seeped through the thick glass of the towering windows. The skyline stretched endlessly from this height as Erwan Von Auer watched the city with the same idle amusement he carried everywhere. He was the kind of man who existed effortlessly. Tousled brown hair, light brown eyes and a grin that suggested he had never taken anything too seriously.

  Turning away from the view, he made a quick glance at Philip who was sitting behind his sleek black lacquered desk, absorbed in a budget proposal. With a grinned he made his way to the luxurious leather couch, sitting with practiced ease.

  Unlike Philip, he was not yet in charge of his family’s business. His father still controlled their vast shipping empire leaving him free to drift through life, charming his way through social circles and never be in need of anything.

  “I heard you’re dating an actress?”

  Philip didn’t stop browsing the documents though his gaze lifted slightly.

  “I heard you brought some unknown but stunning celebrity to your penthouse suite. The rumor mill is buzzing.”

  Philip tapped his fingers lightly against the desk— his gaze fixed on the document in front of him.

  “You’ve been listening to nonsense again.”

  His voice was cool, measured. Not defensive— just disinterested.

  Erwan leaned back on the couch, smirking. “Four years ago this wouldn’t have made a ripple.”

  Philip didn’t respond still flipping through another document with practiced indifference.

  “You were serious back then, sure,” Erwan continued, undeterred. “But not this serious.’’

  Back then Philip had enjoyed nights out. Though he was always selective and never as frivolous as the others he, too, had indulged in company. But now? He had completely turned ascetic.

  His transformation had been too sudden. He drastically seized control of his family’s corporation with ruthless efficiency. It was a hostile takeover in every sense, stripping power from opposing executives and leaving even his grandfather and father with no choice but to step aside.

  That year, he had become the undisputed head of the family holding more than 50% of the shares in the conglomerate.

  Philip had always been capable, he knew. Yet these days, he was something else entirely.

  Which was why Erwan didn’t buy this disinterest. He gestured lazily to the document Philip had been reviewing previously. “For her? Don’t deny it”.

  “I started investing two years ago.”

  No explanation. No defense. Just a statement of facts.

  Erwan chuckled, shaking his head. “Whatever you say. It’s not like I can dig anything out of you, anyway.”

  He stretched lazily before shooting Philip a grin. “Drinks tonight? Just like old times.”

  Their usual crowd— the second-generation rich. Heirs in name only, overshadowed by more powerful elders or siblings who actually ran the companies.

  “Not tonight.”

  “Sure, sure.” Erwan waved his phone as he strolled out. ‘’Hit me up when you cave.’’

  The door shut with a quiet click.

  Philip exhaled slowly, pinched the bridge of his nose then glanced back at the script proposal. The Final Clue is a suspense-mystery thriller, a genre that was regaining traction in the industry.

  He gently closed his eyes, letting the weight of the decision settle in.

  His fingers hovered over the intercom before pressing the button. “Kevin, come inside.”

  ***

  Celeste Concepcion’s apartment was tiny was a contrast to the world she wanted to belong to. The peeling walls and secondhand furniture were reminders of where she came from, reminders of what she was actively trying to escape.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Tonight, her escape was the internet.

  Philip Benedict Garcia’s name was typed into her search bar with a familiar results. His social media? Private. No personal posts, no glimpses into his life. Only corporate accounts and finance articles.

  She had only been curious the first time she had Googled him. That was weeks ago after he caught her on set. She hadn’t even recognized him then and certainly hadn’t realized the impact he would have on her.

  Now? Now, she was looking for something. Anything.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone ringing. CeCe barely had time to say hello before an excited voice burst through the receiver.

  “Is it true?! You actually succeeded in climbing into Philip Garcia’s bed?!”

  CeCe smirked. “Not yet.”

  “You mean?”

  “I didn’t succeed last night. But I definitely will in the future.” CeCe leaned back, confidence oozing.

  Ms. M, somewhere on the other end, was probably questioning CeCe’s life choices at this point.

  “Where’s this confidence coming from? That man’s wealthy enough to rival a country!”

  “He gave me a check. Out of everyone in the world, it was me he had given a check to. That has to mean something.”

  On the other end, Ms. M was quiet for a long time.

  CeCe’s failure hit her so hard. She has gone completely delusional.

  CeCe wasn’t going to give up, though. She was determined to meet Philip next time and in just a few days, the chance arrived in the form of an art exhibit.

  This art exhibit was an exclusive events where the guest list was so curated even the artists themselves barely made the cut. Philip Garcia had funded the featured artist’s latest work.

  CeCe, wearing a green A-line dress with puffed sleeves that reached just above the ankle stood diagonally to Philip, her excitement palpable.

  Philip didn’t come to socialize it seemed. He just stood like a spectator observing in silence. Yet despite his stillness, he was undeniably the most dazzling presence in the room.

  Without realizing it, CeCe walked—balmost ran— towards his side. Her silver heels clicking with each step.

  But before she could reach him his private security stepped in and just as they were about to tell her to leave, Philip raised a hand, signaling for them to step aside.

  CeCe’s sweet smile returned as the security moved away. Clutching her small white handbag she continued her approach.

  “What a coincidence, Mr. Garcia!”

  Of course it was a coincidence. Just a coincidence that she happened to find out he was the biggest investor in this gallery. A coincidence that she had been casually strolling around this place for days. A well-researched and well-planned coincidence!

  Philip merely stared at her and for a brief second, warmth crept up her neck. Maybe this was a little embarrassing. Maybe she had been a little too obvious.

  But CeCe refused to shrink away.

  She lifted her chin, regaining her composure with practiced ease and stretched out a hand towards him.

  “I don’t think I’ve properly introduced myself,” she said with a dazzling smile. “I’m Celeste Concepcion. You can call me CeCe.”

  She held his gaze, waiting. Hoping. Daring.

  Philip didn’t take her hand immediately. His gaze flickered down as if weighing something unseen before finally clasped her hand in his.

  “Philip Garcia.”

  There was something about the way he held her hand for a second too long, his thumb brushing ever so slightly against her skin, that sent a ripple through CeCe’s composure.

  Then, just as effortlessly, he let go.

  To anyone else, it might’ve seemed like a simple handshake. Polite. Distant. Forgettable. But CeCe felt something akin to a brief hesitation and a hint of familiarity.

  Philip, however, had already shifted his attention. He glanced at the art piece on the side as if the moment between them had never happened.

  “Enjoying the exhibit?”

  CeCe blinked, thrown off for half a second before regaining her footing. A slow, knowing smile curved on her lips.

  “Well, I am now.”

  Philip shot her a brief glance before turning back to the painting, still unfazed as ever.

  “Thank you… about last time.” She said in a tone that was just the right mix of gratitude and intrigue.

  Philip met her gaze, studying her for a moment.

  ''No need.''

  Undeterred, she continued, “And about the—”

  She trailed off deliberately as if shes's about to bring up something important.

  But before she could continue, a man approached. He has a youthful, almost boyish features that didnt quite match his tall, broad shoulder and well-built physique.

  He shot CeCe a quick and almost imperceptible scan before smoothly turning his attention to Philip.

  “Chairman.” His tone crisp and professional. “Apologies for the interruption, sir. May I have a moment?”

  Philip nodded at him, then gestured toeards CeCe.

  “Excuse me.”

  He walk out of CeCe's earshot with the man whom she could only assume was one of Philip's assistant.

  CeCe huffed out a silent breath, watching them talk to the side until her phone rang.

  "Hey—''

  "Didn't you say NOTHING happened?"

  "Wh?''

  ''You tell me! Philip Garcia's office called. They are casting you as the heroine in an upcoming film!!''

  CeCe froze. Her grip on the phone tightened as her gaze instinctively flicked back to Philip.

  ''Sorry. I'll call you later Ms. M.''

  She ended the call just as Philip finished his discussion and without missing a beat, CeCe walked towards him.

  Sensing her stare— he turned, their eyes meeting.

  ''Anything else?''

  CeCe hesitated, then shook her head. “Thank you again.”

  He gave a brief nod and begun walking away.

  But on impulse CeCe grab his sleeve.

  “Why?” Why go this lenght?

  Philip studied her for a moment and as if reading her thoughts Philip explain calmly.

  “I looked your situation. Since I already helped you, I decided to see it through the end.”

  CeCe’s pulse quickened. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

  Out of everyone in the world, it was me. He chose to help me.

  Philip frowned slightly as if suddenly wary of her reaction

  ''Don't overthink.'' He paused. “It’s just a matter of principle. A personal preference.”

  CeCe’s heart pounded.

  A preference.

  Me.

  He.Prefers.Me

  Her grip on his sleeve tightened.

  “Can I... have your number?”