The Rivera Clothing headquarters buzzed with controlled chaos. The days grew longer as the company prepared for the launch of their highly anticipated international fashion campaign. Wendy Naredo found herself at the eye of the storm, navigating schedules, samples, and strategy meetings with military precision. Her role as project assistant to Arnulfo Rivera had quickly shifted to working side-by-side with his son, Liam.
Each morning, Wendy arrived earlier than most, armed with a notebook, her tablet, and a resolve forged by years of being the family's breadwinner. Her tasks had grown more complex as the fashion campaign took shape. From coordinating with international partners to handling last-minute model requests, Wendy managed it all with steely focus. But Liam Rivera's constant presence made things increasingly complicated.
Liam was nothing like she expected.
He was known in the press as the Rivera heir who refused to settle down. Rumors painted him as a carefree bachelor. But at work, Liam was all business—disciplined, observant, and deeply involved in the creative direction of the company. He was not a model, but his well-toned physique and chiseled features—products of his relentless gym sessions—often made him look like one.
His vision was meticulous, his decisions swift. Still, there were moments—rare and brief—when his eyes would linger on Wendy a second too long, or his voice would soften when calling her name.
Wendy brushed off the butterflies in her stomach as exhaustion. She didn't have time for distractions, least of all from someone like Liam. Not when Jace had just pulled her aside the night before.
"You're pushing yourself too hard, Wen," Jace said, leaning against the brick wall of their favorite coffee spot, just outside the office. "You've barely answered my messages. You missed dinner again."
Wendy looked up from her phone, guilty. "I'm sorry, Jace. Everything's just... intense at the moment."
"It's not just that." Jace's voice dipped. "I worry because I care. Maybe more than I should."
She froze. "Jace—"
"No, it's okay," he said quickly, managing a tight smile. "You don't have to say anything. I just needed to let it out."
They stood in awkward silence until Wendy gently changed the subject. But Jace's words echoed in her mind through the night.
The next day brought more pressure. The Rivera Building's second floor was transformed into a studio space for the campaign's main shoot. Dozens of staff, stylists, and models wove between racks of clothing, light rigs, and makeup stations. Wendy, always on her feet, directed flow and gave out checklists.
It was in the middle of this organized storm that everything went sideways.
A back draft from a large industrial fan blew through a loose tarp, catching Wendy off guard as she turned toward one of the racks. Her foot tangled in a coiled power cord, and she stumbled—arms flailing, breath caught.
Before she hit the floor, strong arms wrapped around her.
Liam.
He held her for a second longer than necessary, his heartbeat evident against her back. The studio fell silent for a beat, only the camera shutters clicking in the distance.
"You okay?" he asked, concern clouding his usually sharp tone.
Wendy nodded quickly, stepping away, her face flushed. "I—I'm fine. Thank you."
Their eyes met, and something passed between them—a spark neither could deny.
"Be careful next time," Liam muttered, then added with a teasing edge, "We can't afford to lose the company's new miracle worker."
Wendy smiled despite herself, the tension lingering.
But not all eyes saw that moment the same way.
Across the studio, Ricci Dawnielle Yulo watched with a gaze that could slice silk.
Ricci had everything: beauty, charm, and presence. The daughter of Meriam Yulo, a long-time executive assistant and one of the pillars of the Rivera company, Ricci had grown up with a front-row seat to the industry. Her face loomed over EDSA and downtown Makati in sultry black-and-white, wearing nothing but Rivera's signature trench coat.
But Ricci had one soft spot—Liam Rivera.
She had been with the Rivera brand for three years, longer than most models lasted. Her bond with the company was professional, but her personal fascination with Liam was no secret to those close to her.
Ricci admired Liam for his mind, not just his looks. She loved how he turned chaos into art and demanded perfection without raising his voice. She had tried, gently and persistently, to be noticed. Dinners, invitations, subtle flirtations.
And yet, Liam never crossed the line.
Now, watching him catch Wendy—this nobody assistant with a tired ponytail and calloused hands—ignited something cold and bitter in Ricci.
"She's not even in your league," she whispered to herself.
Still, Ricci kept her composure. She had bigger roles to play. That afternoon, she was due to shoot the final set for the expansion campaign—a massive announcement of Rivera Clothing's new global direction.
The Rivera's had signed an exclusive collaboration with Pradesh Luxur, an internationally celebrated fashion brand owned by Armando Abueva Jr.—a Filipino designer based in Dubai. Known for his sharp aesthetic and commitment to elevating Filipino design on the global stage, Armando had established Pradesh Luxur as one of the leading names in luxury fashion. With this partnership, the Rivera brand would soon expand into flagship stores in Shanghai, Los Angeles, Canberra, Ontario, and Dubai.
It was the kind of deal that turned local fashion houses into global dynasties.
In the press conference later that week, Arnulfo Rivera stood tall beside Armando Abueva Jr., both men dressed in classic Rivera tailoring. Beside them, Liam and Ricci stood like icons—he in Rivera's classic charcoal blazer, she in a satin pearl dress from the unreleased Silk Reign collection.
Wendy, watching from the side, felt something stir. Pride, yes—but also an ache.
She had come so far, worked so hard to be part of this moment. But she wasn't a model. She wasn't born into privilege. She was the assistant who fetched coffee, filed reports, and saved the day without credit.
Liam found her later that evening on the rooftop garden, where she often went to breathe.
"Big day," he said, his voice calm.
She nodded. "I still can't believe I'm part of this."
"You are more than part of it. You're helping make it happen."
Wendy looked at him, searching. "Why are you saying this?"
He stepped closer. "Because I see you, Wendy. I see how hard you work. I see the way you hold everything together when the rest of us fall apart."
Silence. Then Wendy whispered, "You shouldn't say things like that."
"Why not?"
"Because... people might get the wrong idea. Ricci already thinks there's something between us. Jace is worried. And me... I don't even know what I'm feeling."
Liam sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. "Then let me make it clear. I didn't expect this. I didn't expect you. But I'm not going to ignore it just because it's inconvenient."
Wendy's heart pounded. But even in that quiet moment beneath the city lights, she knew her emotions were not as simple as attraction or affection. She was not there to flirt or to be fascinated by Liam. She had resisted every flicker of warmth she might have felt, convinced that their professional boundary should never be crossed—not just because of Ricci's suspicions or Jace's feelings, but because she valued her dignity and work ethic above all. It would be unethical, she reminded herself, to entertain such closeness when people were watching, when it could put her integrity at stake. She didn't like Liam—not in that way—and she tried her best to resist whatever it was that had started growing between them, whatever it was that made her heartbeat stutter.
Before she could say more, her phone buzzed with a message from Jace:
Can we talk tonight? Please. Just us.
Wendy stared at the screen, torn.
"You should go," Liam said quietly. "But we're not done, Wendy. Not by a long shot."
She left, her thoughts in turmoil.
Behind her, Liam remained under the stars, watching the city lights flicker like the feelings he could no longer suppress.
And from the floor below, Ricci watched them both with a vow forming in her mind: If Wendy Naredo thought she could win Liam's heart, she would learn soon enough that fairy tales didn't come true for girls like her.
Not when the queen was still on her throne.