Papa smiled as if he was deaf to my rants. "You don't need to work, honey. You are a princess. And once you marry Mauro, you will be his queen. You don't have to take the trouble of being his assistant. I don't actually understand why you settled to be just his assistant. He could easily write off all those debts. Just let him put a ring on your finger. Say 'I do.'"
That was Papa's solution – I should just marry Mauro. At first, I ignored Mauro's hot stares while I was entering adolescence. I was sixteen, and Mauro's wife had just died. He was handsome, fine-looking though he was thirteen years my senior, and wealthy. It was not a secret to me that a lot of women were crazy for him, but I don't care. It was still icky. My sixteen to his twenty-nine. Ugh!
When I turned eighteen, he already stated his interest in marrying me. It was as if I was in a soap opera where I was betrothed to an older man. This was what I got from being a good daughter and student. I thought this would not happen to me – marrying an older man who could pass as my father.
I didn't relent. I negotiated. I told him that I would rather finish my studies and work to pay our family's debts. I reminded Papa that he promised Mama not to let us marry a man we don't love. Papa did not force me to marry on the condition that I work for Mauro full time. He was hoping I would fall in love with Mauro or I'll give myself eventually once I could not take it anymore.
I had no idea how I could dismiss Mauro's advances, but I made it clear that everything was strictly business. I love my job. I love being productive and encouraging people so they can bring out the best in them. It was the only way I know so Ashly and I could be free. We could somehow pay. Our debt had lessened, but it went up again. Will I ever be free?
And I was scared that one of these days, I could not fight anymore. That was what Mauro wanted. To tie Papa in debt for me to realize that even after working my ass off, I will never be able to pay him back. That I should be desperate enough to marry him. How could I marry a manipulative man who makes my skin crawl?
"Papa, even if I have to sell my soul to the demon, that would never be enough to a gambler like you. Enjoy your coffee. That's Nescafe three in one, by the way, not civet coffee. I don't have money to buy your civet coffee, especially that you lost two million pesos," I declared, then watched my father's eyes widened in horror before I walk away.
"That's not the way to talk to your father," he shouted after me. "I did not raise you to be rude. I raised you better than that."
"You raised me to be sold to the highest bidder," I uttered bitterly.
I hid myself in my room and poured my heart out. My strength has limitations. I wrapped my arms around me and looked up. "Why is this happening to us, Mama? I could not accept how Papa had become because of gambling. What should I do?"
My plans were all ruined. I would have to work for another couple of years. My investment would never be enough to cover the debt. I'm getting tired already.
I need a new plan. A more radical one. If I wanted to be free from Mauro and Papa's debts, I needed to be more aggressive in planning. Think out of the box.
But who in his right mind would redeem me from our debts to Mauro? What value do I have? Even if I would sell my internal organs, it would never be enough.
Who had the power to fight him? I need to find an ally as soon as possible before I fully give up fighting.
"YOU LOOK like a princess, sister. And you are out to party with your prince."
I paused from putting on diamond earrings and turned to my sister Ashlyn. She was lying on her stomach on my bed, watching me while I dress up and put my makeup on. I am wearing a sapphire halter gown that hugged my body. I have an hourglass figure. I curled my hair then piled it at the top of my head. A silver pair of Manolo Blahnik cushions hugged my fit.
"Really? I look like a princess?" I asked as I force a happy smile.
It was one of our favorite things to do when we were still little, and Mama was still alive. Whenever Mama dresses up for a date or party with Papa, I was in her room. We pretended that Mama was a princess going to a part with her prince. We still lived in a fairy tale world before without a care in the world.
"Yes. And I hope I would turn eighteen soon. I want to attend glam parties with bigwigs and my own prince like Mauro. Tell him to bring me to the party. Please?" my sister whined and locked her fingers together, pleading.
My smile disappeared when she mentioned Mauro again. My sister hero-worships that dick. Maybe because of Papa's influence that Mauro was our savior and that I would marry him someday. Mauro showered my sister with material things. He lent his yacht to my sister during her last birthday, where she celebrated with her friends. I could not refuse because Papa said Ashlyn should not know that we were already struggling financially. So even though I know that Mauro was buying the support of the people around me, I could not do anything. Papa did not want my sister to lose her 'princess status.' And my sister's happiness every time, the more I put myself to the ground. I was alone in this battle.