Chapter 5 - The Master of the Tower
Three weeks later.
The morning sun over Salcedo Village in Makati was bright, clear, and warm.
At the construction site of what had once been named Vance Tower, the sound of heavy machinery had returned. Cranes turned against the blue sky, steel beams were hoisted into place, and two hundred construction workers in yellow hardhats moved with disciplined, high-energy efficiency.
A new chrome sign hung above the main entrance: REYES TOWER — A SOFIA REYES INFRASTRUCTURE DEVELOPMENT.
I stood on the twentieth-floor observation deck of the unfinished skyscraper, wearing a white hardhat, a dark grey linen suit, and safety boots. Beside me stood my father, holding a set of updated architectural blueprints.
"The structural framework is solid, Sofia," my father said, pointing toward the core elevator shaft. "Vance’s engineers were terrible at managing logistics, but the concrete foundations were poured correctly. We’ll have the facade finished by November."
"And the commercial pre-leases?" I asked, looking out over the city.
"Eighty percent occupied," my father smiled proudly. "Three multinational tech firms signed lease agreements yesterday afternoon. The project will generate a twenty-two percent internal rate of return by Q2 next year."
I nodded smoothly, taking a slow sip of hot tea from my thermos.
My phone hummed in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out.
It was an email notification from Atty. Sarah Lin:
Sofia,
The annulment decree has been officially signed by the Family Court. You are legally single. The court has also finalized the bankruptcy liquidation of Vance Development Corp. All corporate assets have been absorbed by Reyes Infrastructure.
Julian Vance called my office this morning. He has taken an entry-level position as a document reviewer at a small law firm in Pampanga. His parents have relocated to a two-bedroom rental apartment in Quezon City.
Congratulations. The chapter is closed.
I read the email twice, felt a deep, clean wave of peace settle over my chest, and saved the document to my archives.
"Sofia?" my father asked softly, watching my face. "Are you alright?"
I looked at my father—at the man who had given me six hundred and fifty thousand dollars not to buy my happiness, but to guarantee my freedom. I looked down at my hands—hands that were clean, strong, and entirely unburdened by the weight of a gold wedding ring.
"I’ve never been better, Dad," I said genuinely.
"Good," my father smiled, patting my shoulder. "Because the lead contractor for the new bridge project in Batangas is waiting in the trailer downstairs. He wants to know if the Vice President of Strategic Capital is ready to sign the contract."
May you like
I adjusted the brim of my hardhat, tucked my tablet under my arm, and smiled.
"Tell him I'm on my way down," I said.
