II.

CLARA COULD have been dead last night, but she woke up in a great mood and with a smile on her face. Thanks to Fuego. She had not slept well because she kept thinking about him and his gorgeous face.

She kept a stern face as soon as she saw Aunt Carlota entering the dining room. She was still in her nightgown.

“Good morning, Auntie,” she greeted formally.

“Did you get home late?” she asked. Rosa, the maid, poured Aunt Carlota her favorite black coffee.

“Yes, Auntie. The road was slippery, so I had to slow down.”

Aunt Carlota studied her face and her body.

“You look thin, Clara. I can’t introduce you to the del Mars like that. You should gain some weight.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“Y-yes, Auntie.”

“It’s nice that you’re trying, Clara. But, marrying a del Mar will make me prouder of you. They’re the best in the business world.” She smiled sweetly.

But Clara’s stomach felt like turning. Aunt Carlota will never stop bringing it up.

“I know, Auntie.” She stood up from the dining table. She had just lost her appetite. “I’m gonna be late. I’ll see you later.” She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Clara was the youngest of five children. Her parents, who were working as coffee farmers, could not send them all to school. One day, her Aunt Carlota appeared, introducing herself as her mother’s younger sister.

Aunt Carlota was ambitious. She got her fortune from marrying her American husband despite their huge age gap. She used to work in the US as a caregiver. A year after their marriage, her husband died of a terminal illness. She came back to the Philippines to start a new life.

She studied business, and fifteen years later, she now owned almost a hundred chains of hotels and restaurants all over the country. But her aunt never remarried despite her big-time suitors. She said she had never gotten over her first love. It wasn’t her first husband.

Clara was fourteen years old when she started to live with her aunt. Carlota gave her everything, but Clara still longed for her family. Aunt Carlota lacked the warmth of a mother. Maybe because she was never able to have a child. But still, Clara wished she would treat her as her own daughter.

She had been trying to make her proud by getting good grades when she was a student and avoiding suitors even if she was already an adult.

CARLOTA’S car finally parked on what looked like a run-down condominium building. She stepped down from the car and pulled her dark sunglasses up. She stared at the corridor on the third floor.

He better be around.

“Just wait here,” she told the driver and closed the door. She put her glasses back and sauntered toward the building casually in her black tailored suit and red stilettos.

She stopped in front of a door on the third floor and pressed the buzzer. A few moments later, it opened, and a tall, bulky man appeared.

“Carlota.”

She entered right away.

“You still haven’t left this rubbish place?” she said as she surveyed the narrow living room.

“You know my job. I can’t be suspicious.” Baron was still in his shirt and boxers. He could not help a smile as he followed Carlota after closing the door.

He was a private investigator, and he had done a lot of transactions with Carlota over the years. In fact, they were very familiar with each other.

Carlota turned to him with her arms folded across her chest.

“I have a job for you. It’s not that difficult. You just have to report Josef del Mar’s whereabouts for the whole month. He just got back from the States, and I want you to look into what he had been doing while he was there. Also, the people who mingled with him. Check the background for unfamiliar faces.”

“I thought you came here for a mini-reunion.”

Carlota rolled her eyeballs ceilingward.

“I am a busy person, and I got rarely have time for breaks.”

“You haven’t changed, Carlota.”

“What about you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m still the same. I ask for the bonus before the full payment.” Baron grinned.

THEIR CLOTHES scattered on the floor, and none of them bothered to close the door of Baron’s room. The curtains were open, the window showing the rainy sky. The cool breeze brushed Carlota’s naked body as she rocked her hips on top of Baron, who was kneading and squeezing her breasts.

Who would have thought that the bitchy, no-nonsense Carlota Herrera was a slut in bed? Not only that, she let herself get fucked in a shabby room by a man ten years her junior!

Carlota’s body convulsed in orgasm, an erotic cry bubbling out from her throat. Baron let out a sharp groan as he grabbed her waist. Then he shifted their position.

She was panting as hot seed poured out of her thighs. Baron brushed the strands of her hair that covered her hair and kissed her mouth. Carlota moaned as she kissed him back with equal passion. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he began to thrust once again.

“Oh...” Carlota fisted his hair. “Harder, Baron, harder...” she said as she began to get dizzy with delight again.

THE WEATHER was still gloomy, but Clara’s mood had already lightened up as Aroma del Cielo opened. She glanced through the glass wall at the same parking space where she left her car and hoped a big bike would park beside it.

She put two cups of hot coffee on the table and greeted the customers before going back to the counter. She remembered she had not finished her papers last night.

Clara jumped as her phone on the table buzz. She realized she fell asleep.

“Oh.” She groaned as she rubbed her hands on her face and yawned. She grabbed her phone and checked the time. It’s fifteen minutes before twelve.

It had become her habit to set the alarm for lunchtime. Sometimes, or most of the time, she would overwork and skip her meal. Aunt Carlota even noticed that she had lost some weight.

“Have you guys bought lunch yet?” she asked her baristas on the counter.

“I brought a packed lunch, Miss Clara,” Jennifer replied.

“Me, too, Miss Clara,” Agnes said.

“Oh, okay.” Guess she had to use her favorite food delivery app again.

Clara fixed her hair and cleared her table. She walked outside her shop. The tables were still full. She pushed the door, and it looked like the rain had stopped. She wrapped her arms around her as the wind blew.

And suddenly, a familiar big bike appeared and parked beside her car. Clara stared as if the world stopped turning. She could not take her eyes off of the rider.

He was in his all-black outfit again. Her heart could not help pounding. He got down from his motorcycle and walked toward her as he casually took his helmet off.

Fuego.