Sir… I’m still a virgin… I’ve never been with any man in my life…”
A 25-year-old woman said this in a trembling voice inside a hotel room—standing before the very man she had chosen herself.
But the real shock came only five minutes later…
Her name was Mira Cruz, 25 years old, clutching her purse tightly as she stood shaking outside Suite 1408 of one of Manila’s tallest hotels.
For an entire year, she had silently loved and observed that man—Adrian Velasco, 38, successful, calm, refined…
Or at least that’s what she believed he was.
They had met through work.
Adrian never pressured her, never crossed any line.
He simply cared, asked, understood—little by little—until Mira felt he was the man she could trust with her heart for the very first time.
That night, she sent the message herself:
“I want to be alone with you tonight… if you want it too.”
Adrian agreed immediately—so fast that Mira hesitated for a moment.
But she convinced herself.
She wanted this.
She had decided.
Five minutes earlier…
Mira sat on the chair inside the room, her fingers tightly interlocked.
Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it would break out of her chest.
Adrian stepped closer and asked softly:
— “Are you scared?”
Mira nodded, trying to keep her voice steady:
— “Sir… I’m still a virgin. I’ve never done anything with anyone before. I’m scared… I don’t know anything.”
Adrian froze.
He didn’t smile.
He didn’t tease her.
He didn’t hug her—the way Mira expected.
He just… looked at her.
For a long time.
There was a strange expression on his face.
Not surprise.
Not happiness.
Mira frowned.
— “Why are you looking at me like that?”
And then Adrian said something that sent chills racing up Mira’s spine:
— “Good. Now I’m completely sure.”
Mira stiffened.
She was about to ask what he meant when Adrian walked to the small trolley bag he had brought with him, entered the passcode, and opened it.
Mira’s eyes widened in shock.
What was inside…
was nothing like personal belongings.
Mira stared at the open trolley bag, her breath caught in her throat.
Inside—
neatly arranged in padded compartments—
were folders, sealed envelopes, USB drives, and… a small black device with blinking blue light.
Not clothes.
Not toiletries.
Nothing romantic.
This was something else.
Something terrifyingly cold and calculated.
Adrian looked up and met her eyes.
“Mira,” he said quietly, “please sit down.”
But she was already frozen in place.
He pulled out a thick folder, placed it on the table, and slowly opened it.
Inside were photos of her.
Her walking to work.
Her talking to tricycle drivers.
Her standing at her apartment door.
Her eating alone at the company cafeteria.
Different days.
Different angles.
Different clothes.
Her heart stopped.
“Why… why do you have pictures of me?” her voice cracked.
Adrian didn’t answer her question. Instead, he said:
“You told me you were a virgin. Finally, it confirmed what I needed.”
Her blood ran cold.
“What you needed…?” Mira whispered.
Adrian took a deep breath, sat opposite her, and closed the folder.
“You deserve the truth,” he said.
But truth was the last thing she wanted now.
“I’m not who you think I am,” Adrian began.
“No kidding,” Mira muttered, her voice trembling.
“I’m an independent investigator,” he said. “People hire me to track—”
“Victims?” Mira snapped. “That’s what I feel like right now.”
Adrian flinched.
“Not victims. People in danger.”
He opened another envelope.
Inside was a birth certificate.
But it wasn’t hers.
Still… the surname was the same.
CRUZ.
“Who is this?” she whispered.
Adrian slid the document toward her.
“Your sister.”
Mira blinked.
“My sister died before I was born. My mother told me she only lived for a few days.”
“No,” Adrian said. “She didn’t die. She was taken.”
Mira felt the floor tilt beneath her.
“My parents wouldn’t lie—”
“They didn’t lie. They never knew. The doctor who handled your sister’s birth was part of a trafficking ring.”
Mira felt nausea rise in her throat.
Adrian continued.
“Your sister, Mariel, was stolen from the hospital and sold. She resurfaced eighteen years later… working for a corporation that is now under investigation.”
Mira shook her head violently.
“Why are you telling ME this?!”
Adrian hesitated before answering.
“Because… your sister hired me.”
The room fell silent.
“My sister… is alive?” Mira whispered, almost afraid of her own voice.
“Yes.”
“And she hired you to what? Stalk me?!”
“To protect you,” Adrian said firmly. “There are people looking for you. The same people who took her.”
Mira’s knees weakened, and she gripped the back of the chair.
Mira’s voice was barely audible.
“Why did you agree to meet me tonight?”
Adrian rubbed his temple.
“Because they were closing in. I needed to keep you somewhere safe until morning.”
“Safe?” Mira scoffed bitterly. “By trapping me in a hotel room with surveillance photos of myself?!”
Adrian swallowed hard.
“I didn’t want it to be this way. But when you messaged me first… it gave me the perfect excuse to bring you somewhere secure.”
Mira stared at him, anger slowly replacing fear.
“So the whole time… everything was a lie?”
“No. Not everything.”
His voice softened.
“I cared about you. More than I should have. That’s why this is harder.”
Mira looked away, tears pooling.
The small black device lit up again—two soft blue pulses.
Mira pointed at it.
“What is that?”
Adrian went still.
“It means they’ve breached the network downstairs. We need to leave. Now.”
Mira’s breath caught.
“Who is ‘they’ exactly?”
“The ones who took your sister. They found out Mariel contacted me. Which means they know about you.”
He grabbed the trolley bag, stuffed the files inside, and reached for her hand.
But Mira stepped back.
“You expect me to trust you now?”
Adrian looked pained.
“You have every right to doubt me. But if we stay here, they’ll take you. And you won’t be found again.”
The device pulsed faster.
Three blue lights. Then four.
Adrian muttered, “We’re out of time.”
But Mira didn’t move.
A sharp metallic thud echoed from the hallway.
Adrian instantly killed the room lights.
“Stay quiet,” he whispered.
Mira pressed herself against the wall as shadows swallowed the room.
Another thud.
A muffled voice.
Footsteps.
Adrian pulled out something Mira didn’t expect—
not a gun,
but a keycard jammer.
He held a finger to his lips.
Footsteps stopped right at their door.
Mira’s heart pounded so loud she was certain the intruder could hear it.
A faint beep sounded outside.
Someone was trying to override the lock.
Adrian whispered, “When I say run, you run. Don’t look back.”
Mira nodded weakly.
The beep repeated, louder this time.
Adrian counted under his breath.
“Three… two… one—”
He slammed the jammer against the wall. Sparks flew.
The lock malfunctioned.
The door resisted the override with a harsh electric buzz.
Adrian grabbed Mira’s wrist.
“Run!”
They rushed through the connecting door into the adjacent suite, which Adrian had secretly booked under another name.
Just as they slipped inside—
BOOM—
The main door exploded off its hinges.
Someone had entered Suite 1408.
Mira clamped a hand over her mouth.
Adrian locked the second suite behind them and pulled her toward the fire escape.
The fire exit led them up, not down—straight to the rooftop.
Wind whipped around them as they stepped onto the top of the tall hotel building.
“Why here?” Mira gasped.
“Because a car can’t reach us up here,” Adrian said. “But a helicopter can.”
Mira stared at him.
“You called one…?”
“No. Your sister did.”
Mira’s chest tightened.
“She’s… coming for me?”
“Yes.”
Before she could respond, the rooftop door burst open.
Three figures in black stormed out.
Adrian stepped in front of Mira.
“This ends tonight,” he said.
Before the men could advance, a spotlight sliced through the darkness.
A helicopter hovered above the building, whipping the air into a furious storm.
A rope ladder dropped.
A woman climbed down halfway, holding onto the ladder with one hand and a headset in the other.
Her voice echoed through a speaker:
“Mira Cruz! I’m your sister. And I came to bring you home.”
Mira’s breath vanished.
The woman looked just like her.
Older.
Tougher.
Eyes burning with the same shape, same sadness.
“Mariel…” Mira whispered.
Adrian glanced back at her.
“There she is. Alive. Fighting for you.”
The men in black charged.
Adrian pushed Mira toward the ladder.
“Go! I’ll hold them off.”
But Mira grabbed his hand.
“No! Come with me!”
Adrian shook his head.
“They’re after you, not me! If I’m with you, you’ll never be safe.”
Tears blurred her vision.
“Adrian, please—”
He smiled sadly.
“Believe me… I never lied about one thing.”
“What?”
“That I cared.”
And then he shoved her upward—toward the ladder.
Mariel reached down, grabbed Mira’s arms, and pulled her up just as the helicopter lifted higher.
Below them, Adrian fought two attackers while the third tried to shoot at the chopper.
Wind roared.
The helicopter surged upward.
And in a split second—
Adrian vanished beneath the concrete edge of the rooftop.
Mira screamed.
“ADRIAN!”
But the rooftop faded into the night.
Mira sat inside Mariel’s safe house in Cebu, staring at a small sealed envelope.
Mariel placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“He wanted you to have that,” she said softly.
Mira opened it with shaking fingers.
Inside was a single note, handwritten.
“I’m glad you messaged me first.
It gave me a reason to protect you.
If fate is kind, maybe we’ll meet again.
— Adrian”
A single tear rolled down Mira’s cheek.
“Is he alive?” she whispered.
Mariel hesitated.
“He disappeared before they could confirm anything. That means… he might be.”
Mira held the note to her chest.
For the first time in weeks, she smiled—sad, hopeful, unsure, but alive.
And waiting.
Because some people don’t leave your life.
They stay in your heartbeat.