Joyce's eyelids fluttered open, the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room replaced by the soft, warm glow of a lamp. She lay in a private room, a strange and unsettling luxury. The sterile scent of the hospital was still there, but muted, hinting at a quiet expense.
Her mother, Nida, sat beside the bed, her hand clasped around Joyce's. A wave of relief washed over Nida's face as her daughter's eyes met hers.
"Where are we?" Joyce asked, her voice a reedy whisper. "This isn't our hospital. And a private room? Did you take out another loan, Mama?"
"Just rest, my dear," Nida soothed, her thumb stroking the back of Joyce's hand. "Your body is still weak. You need to regain your strength. Don't you want to be well enough to go back to school after Christmas break?"
Joyce's gaze drifted from her mother to the empty space beyond the door. "Is he here? I know it had to be him. No one else could have done this."
Nida and her husband exchanged a knowing glance, a silent conversation passing between them. With a gentle squeeze of her daughter's hand, Nida stood and left the room.
The door opened again, and this time, Nephtali stepped inside. Joyce's eyes, wide and searching, locked onto his.
"My parents said you saved my life," she stated, the words heavy with disbelief.
A slow smile spread across his face, a mixture of tenderness and arrogance. "Would I ever allow my princess to disappear from my life?"
"Even death... you'd face it just so I could live?" The question was a challenge, a desperate need for a deeper truth.
He moved to her side and took her hand, his touch firm and reassuring. "Do you believe me now? That I would do anything for you?"
A genuine, albeit fragile, smile touched Joyce's lips. "It seems you've even won over my parents' trust."
"They have great trust in my family," he replied, his tone low and confidential. "And because of that, they've placed their trust in me as well."
"Thank you, Boss."
He watched her, a mix of concern and admiration in his eyes. "I was so worried about you, I threatened a former classmate just so he'd lend me his private jet to get home immediately. I thought... I thought I wouldn't make it in time."
"We have a deal, don't we?" she said, her smile broadening slightly. "I couldn't die until our deal was done."
"Death would be afraid of someone as brave as you."
"I see many people got dragged into this because of me," she sighed, a hint of playful exasperation in her voice. "Why do you always cause trouble when something happens to me? You even threatened your own classmate just to get home fast."
"It was a good opportunity to test his courage," Nephtali explained, his eyes glinting. "He's engaged to my cousin in Singapore, and I wasn't entirely convinced he was worthy of her. That was a good test."
"You really are something else, Boss," she said, shaking her head. "When do you leave?"
"I'm heading back later today," he said, his voice softening. "You just focus on getting better. Follow your medication and don't overexert yourself."
Joyce's eyes fell on his hand, noticing a small bandage and a subtle needle mark. Her gaze lingered, and he, noticing her attention, quickly tried to hide it. She stopped him, her hand reaching out to his.
"Was the bone marrow they gave me... was it from you?"
He didn't answer. They simply looked at each other, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.
"Boss," she whispered, a tear welling in her eye. "Why do you put yourself through this for me?"
"You know the answer to that, Joyce. You don't need to ask me why I'm doing this for you."
"I know that's not the full answer," she pressed, her voice thick with emotion. "How long are you going to hide it from me?"
"Until my grave."
The finality of his words silenced her. Joyce closed her eyes, a single tear escaping and tracing a path down her temple. "I won't ask you about it again. Thank you for saving my life. I will never, ever forget this. Please, be careful, Boss."
She fell asleep then, the exhaustion finally winning. Nephtali watched her, a single tear escaping his eye. He gently raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I love you, Joyce. I love you so much."
He bit his lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to break free. He kissed her forehead one last time before turning to leave, a final, lingering look at the sleeping girl.
***
Days later, Joyce was home. The familiar sights and sounds of her small house were a comfort, but the questions remained.
Her older sister, Jona, cornered their parents in the kitchen. "Who really helped you pay for Joyce's operation? Wasn't it expensive? And we already have so many debts—what if we can't pay them back?"
"The important thing is that your sister is safe and well," their father, Eddie, insisted, a weary tone in his voice. "Stop asking questions and just get lunch ready."
"I'm just worried," Jona pleaded. "What if you get thrown in jail because of these debts?"
Joyce, who had just entered the room, spoke with a quiet confidence that surprised them all. "Ate, you'll find out who helped me one day. Mama and Papa didn't take out any loans from anyone. There is a person with a good heart who is willing to protect me, even from death. You will meet him one day."
Jona fell silent, her questions momentarily forgotten in the face of her sister's sudden maturity.
Joyce's recovery was swift and miraculous. When Christmas break ended, she returned to school, her energy and radiance leaving her friends, Kaye and Jessa, in awe.
"Joyce? Is that really you?" Kaye gasped, staring at her as if she were a ghost.
"Who do you think it is?" Joyce laughed. "You two look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay?"
"You've just changed so much," Jessa said, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're not pale or weak at all. We really thought you were going to die that day. They even said the Nolascos helped your family."
"People love to gossip," Joyce said, a dismissive wave of her hand. "Just because I was rushed to the city for an operation, people invent stories. They have nothing better to do with their lives. Let's get to class before the teacher arrives."
Kaye smiled. "Even though you just got out of the hospital, you're more beautiful than ever."
Joyce laughed, shaking her head at her friends' exaggerated reactions.
***
The school year ended, and summer began. Joyce was helping her mother in the kitchen when a sharp voice from outside broke the quiet of the afternoon.
"Nida! Anyone home? Hello?"
Joyce looked at her mother, who seemed to have gone deaf. "Mama, someone's calling for you outside."
"Oh? I didn't hear her. I'll be right back, just keep an eye on this." Nida hurried out, a look of shame on her face.
"Mrs. Miranda," Nida said, her voice laced with apology. "I'm so sorry, I can't pay you right now. My husband and I don't make enough, and we just paid for Jona's tuition."
"Oh, stop with the excuses, Nida!" the woman, Mrs. Miranda, snapped. "I've been patient for a month! Are you going to pay me, or am I going to have you and your husband thrown in jail?!"
"Please, no!" Nida begged, her voice cracking. "I have a sick child. Please don't do this to us. Have mercy! Just give us a few more days to pay you back."
Hearing her mother's desperate pleas, Joyce rushed outside. "Mama, what's going on?"
"Go back inside, Joyce!" Nida insisted, trying to shield her daughter.
"Your parents borrowed 40,000 from me to pay for your medical treatment, but they used the money for your sister's tuition instead!" Mrs. Miranda sneered.
"When do you need the money, ma'am?" Joyce asked, her voice calm and steady.
"Joyce, don't get involved," Nida pleaded, but Mrs. Miranda cut her off.
"You're the one who said you'd get nothing from your second child because she's always sick! That your eldest is more important!" she spat at Nida.
"That's enough!" Nida's voice was a sharp command. "Don't you dare say that in front of my daughter!"
Mrs. Miranda shoved Nida, and Joyce instantly rushed to her mother's side.
"Don't you dare hurt my mother!" Joyce yelled.
"You too!" Mrs. Miranda shoved Joyce, sending her tumbling to the ground. Nida rushed to her daughter, helping her up as Joyce noticed the scrapes on her hand and leg.
"I'm giving you until tomorrow," Mrs. Miranda threatened. "If you don't pay your debt, I'm having all of you arrested!"
She stormed off, leaving Nida and Joyce standing in the street, the prying eyes of their neighbors on them.
"Are you okay, my child?" Nida asked, her hands hovering over Joyce's wounds.
"Don't worry about me, Mama. I'm fine. They're just scrapes."
"I'm so sorry, my child." Nida broke down in tears, but Joyce wrapped her arms around her mother.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Mama. I understand, and I'm not angry. Let's go inside. The neighbors are staring."
Joyce's eyes fell again on the fresh scrapes on her hands and legs. She knew what she had to do.
Later, she stood at the corner of the street, waiting for a ride. Two expensive cars pulled up, and Ram and Gadriel stepped out. Ram approached her, reaching for her hand, but Joyce pulled it away.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Reporting to our boss," Ram replied, his tone all business. "I'm just doing my job, so please bear with me. Boss is going to lose his mind when he sees this."
Gadriel's expression was grim. "That Mrs. Miranda is going to find out just what Boss is capable of."
Ram took a picture of her scrapes with his phone. Then, they led her to the massive Nolasco mansion. They walked to the back, where a side pool and an outdoor living area were located. The men gathered there immediately noticed her wounds.
"Does your hand hurt?" Dave asked.
"A little," Joyce replied, "but I'm okay. They're just scrapes."
A voice from a nearby telephone startled her. "Why did that woman hurt you?" Nephtali's voice, cold and dangerous, filled the space.
Joyce looked at the phone in the middle of the table, tears welling in her eyes as she explained the situation. "Mama and Papa borrowed money from Mrs. Miranda for my treatment, but they used it for my sister's tuition instead. Mrs. Miranda got angry when we couldn't pay, and she shoved me and Mama."
Suddenly, there was the sound of something smashing on the other end of the line.
"Boss, please don't be angry," Joyce pleaded. "I wasn't really hurt. They're just scrapes."
"The scrapes on your feet are worse than your hands," Ram pointed out.
Everyone looked at Joyce's feet, which she had been trying to hide.
"Where is the woman who hurt Joyce?" Nephtali's voice demanded.
A door opened, and Mina appeared with Mrs. Miranda.
"Mrs. Nolasco, what is this about?" Mrs. Miranda asked, confused.
"You made someone very angry," Mina said, a chilling smile on her face. "And now, you're going to be judged for it."
Mina left, and Mrs. Miranda, noticing Joyce, scowled. "What is this girl doing here?"
"You hurt her over a 40,000-peso debt her family owed you," Dave said, his voice level and serious. "You could have talked to them calmly and given them an extension. Why did you have to hurt them and cause a scene?"
"Are you all her allies now?" Mrs. Miranda scoffed. "Are you boasting about what you can do?"
Jerry spoke up. "Compared to you, she's not even a fraction of what you are. Don't be so arrogant. You might find yourself on your knees when you find out who you just hurt."
"Sir Jerry, she's just the daughter of a poor family," Mrs. Miranda shot back. "What could she possibly have to be proud of? And she even asked me when I needed the money. Well, I'll tell you now: I need the money that her parents borrowed from me. Now!"
Joyce looked her straight in the eye, her own voice steady and clear. "Because of what you did to us today, 40,000 is not enough to make up for the humiliation you caused my family. So why would I pay you? You should be paying me."
The men around her stared, a collective gasp of surprise passing between them.
"She sounds just like Boss," Ram whispered.
Mrs. Miranda laughed, a harsh, brittle sound. "You have a lot of nerve talking back to me! Who are you to be proud? Are you going to borrow from them to pay me? Do you even know who these men are? You poor people have no shame! Even your life couldn't pay for your family's debt!"
The voice from the telephone cut through her tirade, a low, dangerous rumble. "Even your money is not enough to pay for the shame you've caused."
"Who's talking?" Mrs. Miranda demanded.
"Don't you dare be arrogant in front of that girl," Nephtali warned. "With one word from her, I can bring you back to the earth you came from."
"Mr. Gonzaga?" Mrs. Miranda's face paled.
"Did you think I forgot about the large sum of money your husband borrowed from me? It's been almost eight years, and the debt has grown, especially with the bank. Do you think you have ten million to pay back what you owe me?"
"Mr. Gonzaga, I thought you gave us three years to pay you back?"
"Did you forget that I didn't agree to the terms you made with my lawyer? Now, Joyce will be the one to give you a payment schedule for what you owe me. Or, you will pay her for what you did to her."
Mrs. Miranda's eyes, filled with hate, turned to Joyce. "I can't believe you're doing all this just to climb to the top. Did you give yourself to Mr. Gonzaga so that he would do this for you?"
Dave's hand shot out and slapped the woman, the sound echoing in the stillness. A gasp escaped Joyce's lips, and tears began to fall. Mina, noticing her distress, rushed to her side and wrapped her in a comforting embrace.
Joyce's sobs, sharp and raw, reached Nephtali's ears through the telephone. He, too, began to cry in a fit of rage, his fist slamming down on a table with a deafening crack.
"Take Joyce inside, Mina," Dave commanded.
Mina led Joyce away, soothing her as she cried.
"Dave," Nephtali's voice was low and deadly. "I'm giving you the power of attorney to seize all of Mrs. Miranda's assets as payment for the ten million she took from me."
"You can't do that to me!" Mrs. Miranda cried, her voice rising in panic.
"You can't hurt and make her cry either!" he roared. "You don't know how important Joyce is to me, so don't you ever say anything bad to her in front of me again!"
Mrs. Miranda fell to her knees, begging. "Please forgive me, Mr. Gonzaga. Mr. Nolasco, please help me. We will lose all our assets. Where will my family and I live if you take everything? What will happen to us?"
"You should have thought about your words before you spoke," Dave said, his voice unyielding. "Nephtali has already made his decision. He will seize all of your assets now."
"No!" she screamed. "Mr. Gonzaga, please have mercy on me! Please have mercy on my children! Don't do this to us! I didn't mean what I said! Please, just listen to me!"
"Boss?" Joyce's small voice cut through the chaos.
Silence fell as everyone looked at her.
"What is it, Joyce?" Nephtali asked, his voice instantly softening.
"Can I pay her the money my parents borrowed from her?" she asked. "But I want you to make them leave this province so they can't oppress anyone else."
"Dave, give Joyce the money," Nephtali commanded.
Dave handed a large wad of cash to Joyce. She walked over to the woman still on her knees, crying and pleading.
"How could you do this?" Mrs. Miranda whispered.
"I am Boss's princess," Joyce said, her voice clear and resonant. "And anyone who hurts me or makes me cry, he will drag them down until there is nothing left of their life. Just like what's happening to you now. But you still have a chance to rise again. I hope this serves as a lesson to you: don't look down on others, because you never know who you're messing with."
Joyce gave the money to the woman, who was now weeping with shame and humiliation. Everyone watched Joyce, struck by the power in her voice. The words of a princess, spoken with a quiet strength that was more powerful than any threat.