Chapter 70

Chapter 70
Ivan’s POV

"Condolences, bro." I patted Seymour's shoulder as I sat beside him. He offered me the chair next to him, so I took it.

He tilted his head to look at me, a sad smile forming on his lips. I understood him. I knew how painful it was to lose a father. Though my father was still alive, it often felt like I had already lost him — like I didn’t have a father at all.

"It's too early, Ivan. He left us too early..." he muttered. Tears pooled in his eyes, but he managed to keep them from falling.

I heaved a sigh and patted his shoulder again. "This is life, bro. If it’s your time, then it’s really your time. You can’t do anything about it." I almost whispered it. Every time I thought about death, I ended up feeling scared. I know no one lives forever, but it still feels frightening.

The thought that life is so short terrifies me. I don’t want my dreams to turn into ashes just because my life ends too soon. Death is the last thing I ever want to experience. I don’t want my life to end yet. My mother... she needs me. She needs a son who will take care of her when she can’t do hard things anymore. I want to give back everything she’s done for me.

Many people are here for me. It might not always be obvious, but I know they are—my friends, my relatives, and especially my mom. How can I show them gratitude if I die?

But like I said, death is unpredictable. I don’t want to die, but God holds my life in His hands. And when He chooses to let go, there’s nothing I can do. Maybe I’ll just accept it when it comes. I know He’s already given me enough time to explore the world... but still, I don’t want to die yet.

"Our company’s in the middle of a downfall right now, bro. And Kuya Dave—he doesn’t want to take over the company..." Seymour brushed his fingers through his hair. "Damn. I know what’s coming. Soon enough, our company will face bankruptcy," he said with frustration in his voice.

I sighed and closed my eyes tightly. I wanted to help him, but I didn’t know how. I never liked business—never wanted to. He was the only one really interested in it. My father kept trying to make me manage one of our businesses once I graduate, but I just can’t. I love cooking. That’s my passion.

I opened my eyes and looked at Seymour again. His tears were now flowing like a waterfall, his gaze fixed on his father’s coffin. I just kept patting his shoulder. I know he’ll overcome this. Seymour is intelligent, strategic, and diligent.

"Seym, stay strong. You're now the head of your family. They’ll rely on you. Just keep fighting—and trust God," I said. He looked at me, his eyes dark.

He let out a dry, bitter laugh. "Trust God? Really, Ivan?" he scoffed. "How can I trust Him when all He’s ever done is mess up my life? First, I got kidnapped as a kid. Then, He nearly took my mom. Now, He’s taken my father—my strength. Tell me, how do I trust Him?" His voice was filled with resentment.

"Seym, He does everything for a reason. Even if we can’t see the reason right now, we still need to trust Him." My brows furrowed. It was the first time I’d encountered someone openly questioning God’s will. "You still have your mother, your older brother, and your younger sister. Make them your priority, and ask God for strength. He will hear you, Seym."

"Bro, I... I don’t know anymore." He shook his head, burying his face in his hands.

"When you don’t know what to do anymore, just pray, Seymour. Like I said—He’ll hear you. He’ll soothe your mind and your heart. He’ll take away your suffering. Just wait, bro. Just wait..." I said, full of conviction. Me? I still trust God and pray to Him, even if sometimes it feels like He doesn’t hear me. Still, He is God. I want to offer myself to Him.

A few minutes later, I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. I excused myself and walked away from Seymour. I pulled out my phone and looked at the screen. I sighed harshly. It was my dad.

"What now?" I answered flatly.

"You need to come home, Ivan. Your mother was nearly raped, and you were just out there doing who-knows-what?" His voice was calm, but he couldn’t hide the irritation.

I almost dropped the phone. My heart started pounding wildly. My eyes widened, and I could barely speak as panic spread through me.

"What?" I choked. "How did that happen?" Damn it. Curse the bastard who tried to hurt my mom.

"She was alone at the office because you weren’t there. You always help her with work—and now, you weren't? Tell me, Ivan, does your mother mean nothing to you anymore?" His sarcasm cut deep.

I gritted my teeth. How dare he say that? He had no idea how much I loved and treasured my mother.

"And now you’re acting like a concerned husband, Dad? Shame on you." I scoffed. "Don’t act like you care, because the truth is, you don’t. You’re just afraid of being alone when you grow old."

"You disrespectful brat!" he shouted. But I didn’t care anymore. He started this. "Know your place, Ivan. You were just adopted. After all I’ve given you, you still speak to me like this?"

My hand curled into a fist. My jaw clenched. Yeah, I’m adopted. So what? At least my mom loves me.

"I know that already, Dad. You don’t need to rub it in." I sighed heavily.

He let out a fake cough. "Come home now. Your mom’s looking for you." The line went dead.

I exhaled and tried to pull myself together before returning to Seymour. I didn’t want to leave him, but my mom needed me.

"Bro, I’m sorry. I need to go. My mom needs me," I said once I reached him.

He looked up and stood. "What happened to Tita? Let’s go. I’ll drive you."

I shook my head quickly. "No need, bro. I brought my car. I can drive." I pulled out my keys and showed them to him.

His brows furrowed. "You’re underage, Ivan. Why do you have a car?"

"You’re underage too, Seym, and you have one. Dad gave it to me." My dad was always generous with gifts. I’m only seventeen, and I already have a car.

Seymour sighed deeply. I knew he was exhausted, and I didn’t want to add to his burdens. "Can you drive? It’s getting late. If you want, I’ll call one of our drivers."

I smiled. "That’s kinda gay, bro. Besides, I’m not a woman. I can handle myself. You rest. I’ll visit again tomorrow."

Seymour finally agreed. I drove home. I actually enjoyed driving this new car. I’d learned how to drive back in third year high school, but Dad had never bought me a car—until now that I’d graduated.

Our house was quiet when I arrived. No house help greeted me. I shivered. Dad must’ve been really angry earlier. But why? Because Mom was nearly raped? That didn’t make sense.

I rushed upstairs to my parents’ room. I didn’t bother knocking. I opened the door and saw Mom crying on the couch—Dad beside her, looking genuinely concerned.

I quietly snorted. Probably just for show. He never really cared.

"Mom." I walked toward them. Mom immediately stood and ran to hug me.

"Ivan, my baby boy. You're here..." she sobbed.

"Shh... don’t cry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you." I rubbed her back, trying to comfort her.

After she calmed down, we sat together. She was still crying, but not as badly. Damn. My mom looked so scared. If I ever saw the bastard who did this to her, I’d kill him.

"I’m going to lock up that Galvin bastard, Jane. Why did you let him into your office?" Dad suddenly snapped.

"I... I trusted him, Ivo. He was a good friend. I didn’t think... I didn’t know he’d do that to me," Mom whispered.

"That’s your problem—you trust too easily." Dad turned his gaze to me and sighed. I braced myself. "And you, Ivan. Where the hell were you? Why weren’t you with your mom at the office?" He wasn’t yelling, but his voice was ice cold.

I met his gaze. "I was with my best friend, Seymour. His dad passed away, and I went with him."

Dad frowned. "Oh, right. His father died. Because of Ricardo?" he asked.

I blinked. "What?" I asked, shocked. Tito Ricardo was Rigella’s dad!

Dad smirked bitterly. "You wouldn’t know—you never attend business meetings. Ricardo Crisostomo has been accused of betraying Santi Alcantara. So don’t even think about getting involved with his son. I know you like his daughter."

"Tito Rick wouldn’t do that," I insisted.

"I thought so too. He was a good friend. But now they say he embezzled from Alcantara Holdings. He’s a snake," Dad said flatly. "I’m pulling out my shares from his company. And forget the marriage agreement with Rigella. I won’t stain our name. I won’t let our family be tied to that disgrace."

My jaw dropped. So they’d planned to marry me and Rigella? But now they’re backing out? Everything felt like it was moving too fast.

"I told you so, you shouldn't have gone in there, Drea," Laren said as we stepped out of the police station.

I heaved a sigh and tilted my head to meet her gaze. "You know that will never happen, Laren. I still don’t have the answers I need. And please, I’m exhausted. I really just want to rest. Join me at the hospital."

I swallowed my emotions. It hurt—a little more than I wanted to admit—but that’s the thing about pain. It lingers even when you try to hide it.

Laren nodded, slipping her hand into mine. "Alright, let's go. I’ll drive."

We walked in silence toward the parking lot. Each step felt heavier, not because of the distance but because of everything weighing down on my chest. The case wasn’t over. The questions still screamed in my head.

When we arrived at the hospital, the scent of antiseptic filled my nose. Cold, sterile, and too familiar. I hated this place. But it was the only place that made me feel like I was doing something—anything—to find the truth.

Laren stayed by my side as I signed in. The nurse at the front desk recognized me and gave a sympathetic smile.

"Room 304, Ms. Alcaraz," she said softly.

I nodded in thanks, then turned to Laren. "You don’t have to come up with me. I know you're tired too."

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving you. Not now."

We entered the elevator, and the silence between us grew thick again. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence shared between people who didn’t need words to feel each other’s presence.

The doors slid open with a chime, and we stepped out onto the third floor.