After six long years in Italy, Ethan Elizalde was finally home.
He had just graduated from Casa de Aequlitas — a university known for producing diplomats, lawyers, and leaders. Yet despite the smiles and congratulations, Ethan carried something darker behind his polite grin.
When news of his family's murder reached him, he was barely in his first year of college. His father, the sitting governor, was executed publicly under the pretense of justice; his mother and sister slaughtered in their own home hours later.
He wanted to return then. But he couldn't.
The province had erupted into chaos — two years of bloody retaliation between rival clans, each side claiming justice for the Elizaldes. Returning meant death. So Ethan stayed in Italy, studying by day and mourning in silence by night.
Now, the war had cooled. Graves had turned into grass. And Ethan had finally come back.
He arrived not as a grieving son, but as a man with a purpose.
---
"Cheers to Ethan's graduation!" Grayson raised his glass of liquor high, and the rest followed with a loud, drunken toast. "CHEERS!"
"Congrats again, bro!" Kenji laughed, slinging an arm over Ethan's shoulder. "Finally, the rich kid's got a diploma to match his wallet."
Ethan chuckled quietly. "Correction — my parents' wallet." He took a sip, letting the cold liquid burn his throat. "I haven't earned a single dollar myself."
"Hah," Colton teased, half-drunk already. "You've been loaded since birth. Don't talk like one of us."
Ethan only smirked, swirling his drink. The laughter around him was light, genuine — something he hadn't felt in years.
"Kuya Ethan!"
He turned as two girls approached their table — Heather and Anika, cousins, both local favorites. Heather, dusky and soft-spoken; Anika, fair and playful.
"Kuya Ethan," Anika started, grinning mischievously, "Heather wants to tell you something. Alone."
"W–what? Anika!" Heather hissed, her face instantly turning red.
Ethan raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? Something serious?"
Heather lowered her gaze. The weight of his stare felt too much — deep, calm, unreadable. "I… I'd like to talk to you. Privately."
"Sure." Ethan set down his glass and stood up. "You guys enjoy. I'll be right back."
"Hoy! What are you two planning, huh?" One of his friends called out, laughter following them as Ethan gently pulled Heather toward the back of the house.
The air outside was cooler, quieter. They stopped beneath the old mango tree — the same spot where village elders chatted in the morning, and where secrets were exchanged at night.
"What did you want to tell me?" Ethan asked softly. There was no teasing in his tone, only a heavy patience — the kind that made Heather's heart race.
She swallowed hard. "First… congratulations on graduating. And second…" Her voice trembled, fading with each word. "I… I like you."
The silence that followed was deafening. Heather's heart thudded in her chest.
"Kuya—"
"Heather." His voice was calm, almost cold. She met his gaze — those dark, bottomless eyes — and froze.
"Are you drunk?"
"What?"
"I asked, are you drunk?"
"I—just one glass of San Mig Light…" she stammered, looking away.
"You're tipsy."
"Just a little…"
He studied her for a moment, expression unreadable. "Do you understand what you're saying right now?"
Heather nodded, though her knees felt weak. "I do. I know what I feel. It's not because you're handsome. It's because you're kind… brave… you care about this place. About people."
Ethan's lips curved in a faint smile — one that didn't reach his eyes. "Kind? That's… an interesting word to use on me."
"But it's true—"
"Let's just say," he cut in softly, turning his back for a moment, "you haven't seen all of me yet."
When he faced her again, his aura had changed — deeper, heavier. The air between them grew still.
"Sometimes," he said quietly, "it's better not to say everything you feel."
"But I already did," Heather whispered, trembling yet resolute. "And I don't want to lie to myself."
Ethan stepped closer. His every movement was deliberate — not tender, not playful — but charged with something that made her chest tighten.
He lifted a hand and brushed two fingers against her cheek, barely touching her.
"If you let someone like me into your world," he murmured, "make sure you're ready."
He didn't kiss her. Didn't even smile. But Heather felt her heart collapse under the weight of those words.
---
"Kuya Grayson, where's Kuya Ethan?" Some girls asked, glancing around.
"Oh, you're too late," Grayson laughed. "Heather got to him first."
The others groaned. "Tch. Of course."
No one ever stood a chance when it came to Heather and Ethan.
---
HEATHER
"I heard Ethan's running for SK Chairman."
I froze mid-step, standing by the sari-sari store where a group of older women were gossiping.
"Really? The governor's son? So he's running against Kagawad Pablo's kid?"
"Finally! Maybe we'll get an SK Chairman who actually does something."
"Ha! Like what? Buy himself a new motorcycle?"
They burst into laughter. Even I almost joined in — until I caught myself and walked away, pretending to cough.
So Ethan's running for SK? I looked up at the sky, smiling faintly.
Maybe I should run too. As Kagawad. Just to try.
After all… I've got plans of my own.