"Yvonne, you're just a kid—what kind of restless bug is crawling inside your body?" her nanny yelled as Yvonne tried to slide down the stair railing on the right side of the grand staircase.
"I'm fine, Manang!" she shot back, her tone cheeky and rebellious. The older woman didn't reply, instead hurriedly coming down the stairs to catch up with her.
"You little rascal, if you get hurt doing things like that, your uncle will hold me responsible," the woman scolded, pinching her in the side.
"Ow, that hurt, Manang! I'm not a child anymore. I know what I'm doing," Yvonne replied, rubbing her side.
"Oh, so you're grown now? Then act your age! Your behavior doesn't match it one bit," her nanny snapped and turned her back on Yvonne.
Feeling insulted, Yvonne's temper flared. Before the woman could walk away, she shouted loud enough to echo through the mansion.
"Margarita!! What right do you have to yell at me like that? Just because you've served this family for years doesn't mean you can boss me around like you're my mother—or are you just trying to look good so they raise your salary?"
Her voice was loud enough for the household staff nearby to glance her way.
She stormed up to the woman, her expression serious. "When I speak to you, look at me!" she demanded, the edge in her voice startling the others.
She waited, but the woman wouldn't meet her gaze, which only made Yvonne angrier. Even her parents had never kept her waiting like this.
"Oh, really? Fine then!" she barked and shoved the nanny, sending her stumbling to the floor.
Yvonne caught a glimpse of Margarita's tear-streaked, terrified face. She pointed at her threateningly.
"Remember this: No one gets in my way. And no one— no one— talks down to Yvonne Archira Mondragon!"
The nanny could only whisper, "S-sorry."
Yvonne sneered, turned around, and chuckled softly to herself.
"Brat."
A cold voice made her jolt.
She turned and saw her adoptive father standing right in front of her.
"Don't you ever get tired of being like this?" he asked calmly, but his tone was sharp enough to cut glass.
"Papa, come on. You know I take after Mama, right? Why are you surprised now?" she said proudly.
"Yes, your mother could be fierce, but she knew how to respect elders. Do you?" His voice began to rise.
"Of course. As their boss, I teach them lessons—"
"Lessons?! And violence is your method?" he cut her off. "I didn't raise you to be cruel. That woman you just hurt—she raised me when I was a baby. Now she's taking care of you, and this is how you repay her?"
Yvonne laughed bitterly. "Why should I care? I'm the boss, not her."
Her father's voice dropped dangerously low. "Then it's time you learn what it's like to live without power. You're leaving this house. Starting now, find a job, earn your own money, and if you can, work for a rich family just like she does."
She froze. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. Get out." he snapped.
She wasn't scared. She figured it would be easy to crash at a friend's house. Plenty of people would welcome her—right?
"Fine," she said, smiling confidently and heading upstairs to pack.
She didn't ask for a second chance. She didn't think she needed one. In her mind, her friends were loyal and she had plenty of options.
But deep down, she knew people were fake. Traitors in disguise. That's why she never fully trusted anyone. If they helped, good. If not, she wouldn't owe them anything.
While packing, she noticed that her father hadn't said a word to stop her. He was serious.
"Whatever. Who do they think they are?" she mumbled.
"I will never apologize just to return to this house. I'm Yvonne Archira Mondragon. I don't back down, and I don't run away. Someday, when I make it big on my own, I'll pretend I never knew any of them."
It didn't take long for her to pack everything she needed. She descended the stairs, chin raised, head high.
"Let's go, Yaya Sel." she told her nanny.
"You're not taking her," her father said without looking back. "You don't have the money to pay her. You leave alone."
Yvonne exhaled loudly. "Fine. Bye, guys," she said, cheerful on the outside as she walked out of the house. A taxi took her to her first stop—Stephanie's house, her closest friend.
Stephanie lived in an even bigger mansion. Even though Yvonne had been there countless times, she was still impressed.
She rang the doorbell, and five housemaids greeted her.
"Who are you, ma'am?" one of them asked politely.
"Good morning, I'm Yvonne, Stephanie's friend. Is she home?"
"Yes, please come in," the maid said, leading her to the living room where she and her friends usually hung out.
"Hey, Yv. What brings you here?" Stephanie asked as she entered.
"Steph, can I stay here for a few days? Papa kicked me out. I have nowhere else to go," she pleaded.
Stephanie raised an eyebrow. "Don't even try to pull me into your drama, Yv. If your dad kicked you out, maybe you deserved it. It's time you learned something."
"Just a few days?" she tried again.
"No. That's my final decision. No buts, no questions. Get out," Stephanie said firmly.
Yvonne was shocked. Stephanie had never spoken to her that way before.
"So you're useless too, huh? I thought you were different."
"You can say whatever you want. But all of us—your friends—we know what you did. Your dad told everyone. No one will take you in. Not after what you did to Manang Soleng. So please, leave."
"Fine! Stick together, all of you," she snapped. "But mark my words—if I make it on my own, without your help, I won't even remember your names. You'll come crawling to me one day, and I'll reject you just like you did to me."
She pointed a finger in Stephanie's face before storming out.
There was no point in going to her other friends. She knew the answer would be the same.
As she walked
She walked away from Stephanie's house, furious and in disbelief. She couldn't believe her closest friend had betrayed her—just because of what happened with Manang Soleng.
There was no point visiting the rest of her friends. What Stephanie said was enough. If even she had turned her back, then surely the others would too.
As Yvonne walked the streets, her mind spun with confusion. She had no idea where to go, where to start. All she knew for certain at the moment was that she was hungry.
Her stomach growled as she scanned the area for somewhere to eat. She didn't even know how much money she had left. On top of that, she knew she had to find a job—something that suited her tastes, of course.
"Hello, good morning ma'am! Please come in—we've got affordable dishes and we're newly opened!" a waitress cheerfully approached her as she passed by a small café.
"Is this even legit?" Yvonne asked, raising a brow suspiciously.
"Yes ma'am, proven and tested!" the waitress replied with a warm, respectful smile.
Yvonne nodded and followed her inside. The place looked newly opened—freshly painted walls, clean tables, but not many customers yet.
"What's your best dish?" she asked as she took a seat.
"This one, ma'am! Please give it a try. And if you don't like it, we'll give you another dish—free of charge," the waitress beamed with confidence.
"Alright. You said it, no take-backs," Yvonne replied with a faint smile.
"You won't regret it!" the waitress assured her before walking away to prepare the dish.
Yvonne leaned back in her seat, arms crossed.
Wait… how much money do I even have left?
Oh no… I'm screwed.