I.
Naya spent hours driving aimlessly around the city.
Other people may have gone to a friend's place to hang out and pass time. But not her.
She is rich and beautiful but she was never one to have many friends.
She sighed.
Girls never liked her. Boys took advantage of her, at least they tried to. Often times, they were her punching bags.
At a time like this, the younger her would either be in a fist fight somewhere posh or be someplace else where people has never heard of Naya Castile.
She was a far cry from the other girls of similar stature who are considered social butterflies.
Where they partied, she fought. When hair and nails were top priorities, she was strutting with bandages on her arms and cuts and bruises on her face. While everyone was active on social media and gatherings, she'd be chilling in a far flung place.
She is a Castile by name and by blood but everything about her was un-Castile, or says the old people of her social class.
She laughed bitterly.
At twenty-four, she had full-reign of the Castile Financial Group. Her days revolving around back to back business meetings, arguing with people that belonged to a different generation and clawing her way to make sure she stays where she should be.
The toll of standing her ground has been eating at her for the past months. Rachel reentering her life at this moment is doubling her stress.
She started to taste the bitterness in her heart and it was driving her insane.
All she wanted is her peace.
Three days of peace.
II.
"She is so beautiful." she whispered. It was the nth time she said it and he was getting annoyed. "There weren't that much pictures of her in our circle. Does she attend gatherings at all?"
"No." Aya said. He wondered when she was going to leave.
"Does she not like them? She's so beautiful people will love to have her in their soirees. Mom would definitely adore her." she mused.
He didn't respond.
"Aya," she called his name. Her voice is sweet and he resisted the urge to wince. "Will you join me on Saturday?"
His brow furrowed.
"It's my granddad's 80th birthday. I was hoping you'd accompany me."
"Why."
Her face visibly went pale. She looked at him and he met her gaze with nonchalance. She sighed.
"I should leave." she whispered. She started to take off his shirt that she was wearing. He watched her undress. It was painstakingly slow. "Aya," she started again.
"You should really go now." he snapped. Her shoulders fell. She picked up her pace and was gone within 15 minutes.
He didn't even know her name. Not that he was interested. She was just one of those women who'd throw themselves at him. Every interaction starts and ends the same way. It's exhausting but he needed release.
His thoughts drifted back to his unexpected guest.
It wasn't the first time she'd show up unannounced. She knew he hated it but she does it anyway. Unlike his father, he detested the unspoken duty he has to her family.
It wasn't as if she needed protection. She is a good fighter. Whether it was a physical fight or intellectual, she was top tier.
Naya Castile. The princess who's more of a street fighter.
He picked up his phone and dialed his assistant's.
"She's at Route 90." Jiro, his second-hand, informed him.
Route 90 is a long stretch of highway near the coastline. His furrow deepened. She hasn't gone there for a while. He knew it was a place she frequented when they were younger. As to why, it baffled him.
When his father married her mom, he knew it was bound to fail. Natalia was the exact opposite of his own mother. She was a free spirit while his mom was laidback, much like his father. Naya was no different from her mother.
"Naya." He was unaware how he sounded saying her name. Her name felt foreign despite how closely it resembled his own and he refused to call her by it. It was like a reminder that she had more than he does.
Hours flew by. It was a lazy day. Jiro handled most of the business on his behalf occasionally updating him of the events.
Aya sighed and massaged his temples.
He may hate Henry but the Santillian family has to keep going. As the only son, Aya is expected to learn the ropes at an early age.
He glanced at his phone, taking note of the time. It's almost 6:00 PM and as if by cue, he heard his door lock click.
He got up and walked towards the entryway. Naya was letting herself in. He raised his brows.
"Pray tell me how you knew the passcode. You almost broke the door knocking this morning."
Naya visibly froze. She looked at him slowly under hooded eyes. He waited for her. She sighed.
"I don't know."
"You don't know." He mocked. It was his mother's death anniversary. How Naya would figure it out baffles him and at the same time it alarmed him. He can't afford to be that easy to read.
"Come on," she groaned exasperated. "Can't you let it slide? It's just me." She said almost whining.
He huffed in response and turned away.
That was the problem. It is her.
Naya watched Aya's back as he walked away. She followed after hanging her coat on one of the hooks on the wall.
"Hey." She called his attention. Aya was about to enter his room. He stopped but did not turn around.
"Just three days." He said.
"About that," she started.
"No." he said.
Naya frowned.
"I haven't even said anything." she said annoyed. He turned around and eyed her.
"Three days is already a bother. I will not take anything longer than that."
"Funny you say that. You're stuck with me for life." She pointed out.
Aya's eyes narrowed.
Naya flinched internally. Aya hates being reminded of his so-called duty.
"Don't push it," he said, "Naya."