CHAPTER 1 "THE GOOD SON"

"Good morning, sir," the guard greeted Joaquin with a smile at the entrance of the tall building owned by him and his father, Joaquin Antonio, Sr.

"Good morning," Joaquin replied, returning the smile. This was a daily routine in his life, starting his mornings in the office and ending them here.

"Good morning, sir," Alma, his father's former secretary, greeted him. He now occupied the fifth floor, where his office was located.

The Antonio Paper Corporation was the largest paper company in the Philippines. They distributed well-known imported paper brands as well. But their business wasn't limited to paper production. They also handled major brands of writing materials and art supplies, such as popular watercolors used for painting.

This company was his father's legacy, and as the only child, he was obliged at an early age to learn the ins and outs of the business to eventually take over its management.

He was only five years old when his mother died in a car accident. His father had a hard time accepting it, and to this day, he carries the grief of losing his wife.

"Your father called a while ago, looking for you. Haven't you gone home yet?" Alma asked, placing a cup of hot coffee on his desk.

He shook his head. "I forgot to call him," he replied, smiling meaningfully at the older woman.

"Ah, dear, you should call him. Let him have his peace of mind. Besides, it's about time you settled down so I can finally retire," Alma joked before leaving his office.

Alma was right. She was of the right age to retire, but she hadn't been able to do so because they hadn't found a suitable replacement for her. She always said that when he got married, his wife could take over her role. That way, they could still work together.

But for Joaquin, was that really important? Or was Alma hinting at him to stop his womanizing ways?

He chuckled softly at the thought, then picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. His relationship with Alma was unique; he considered her his second mother. Since his mother had passed away early, he had grown closer to Alma. He even joked that he would only get married if he found a woman who could brew coffee as well as she did, a remark that always made the older woman laugh.

Joaquin's thoughts were interrupted when his cell phone suddenly rang. It was his father calling. He sighed, knowing that his father was likely going to give him a lecture, and he wasn't wrong.

"Joaquin, what's going on? I've been trying to reach you since last night. What trouble have you gotten yourself into now, young man?" his father's voice came through the phone, dripping with anger.

Joaquin couldn't help but suppress a smile, though he kept it low. He knew it was going to be another sermon.

"Sorry, Pa, I forgot to charge my phone, that's why you couldn't reach me," he replied truthfully.

He heard his father emit a frustrated sigh on the other end of the line. Joaquin knew that his father didn't entirely believe his excuse, and he couldn't blame him.

"Where did you spend the night again? Do you think I don't know what you're up to? When are you going to stop this nonsense?" his father continued in the same tone.

At that question, Joaquin's mind quickly replayed the events of the previous night.

"Oh god, don't you dare stop, it's so good!" Tessa moaned with pleasure as Joaquin continued to thrust forcefully beneath the cascading shower.

Joaquin had met Tessa in a bar, which was a common occurrence in their world. Most of his liaisons with women happened either at parties or bars. Like him, Tessa came from a family of entrepreneurs. She held a position in her grandfather's textile company. They both had positions of privilege and had a mutual understanding about their relationship—no commitment, just sex. In this aspect, they were compatible.

He didn't respond to Tessa's moans and instead focused on his vigorous lovemaking. Tessa was indeed a passionate lover, enjoying various positions that Joaquin liked to explore.

It had been two months since he started sleeping with Tessa. Despite knowing that he didn't have any special feelings for her beyond lust, he couldn't deny the intense pleasure he found in her curves and the warmth of her body.

"Fuck! Yes! Hard!" Tessa screamed, pushing Joaquin further. Her pleas for rougher action only fueled his desire.

Women, to Joaquin, were all the same. There was no need to get emotionally attached because there were so many of them. He never had to search; they approached him willingly because of his wealth and reputation.

No matter how beautiful or sophisticated they looked, they all shouted the same thing when he took them in his arms—loudly.

"Oh, Joaquin! I think I'm going to fucking come! Hmm!" Tessa cried out as she held Joaquin's head and kissed him fiercely as if trying to consume his lips.

Joaquin felt her body heat up and knew she was close. He intensified his movements, making sure to hit all the right spots that would send her over the edge.

Expecting louder moans and screams from Tessa, Joaquin was taken aback when she suddenly screamed, not in ecstasy, but in terror.

"My god! Oh! I want more! Shit! Shit!" she shouted, trembling and writhing under him.

Joaquin couldn't help but laugh. Tessa was indeed a different kind of lover, fiery and intense. Whenever they met, their encounters were always like this. Her house had become their playground.

"You're so great!" she exclaimed, panting heavily.

Joaquin chuckled softly and leaned down to kiss her lips. Without saying a word, he lifted her and laid her down on the bed.

They shared a deep kiss, and then Joaquin turned off the shower. He lifted Tessa, carried her to the bed, and gently laid her down.

Without exchanging any words, Joaquin swiftly entered her once again, reigniting their passionate encounter.

Tessa screamed in ecstasy.

"One more round?" he asked.

She shook her head, and then he pushed her gently until she was on top of him. "As long as I want," she replied, and they resumed their steamy sex.

"JOAQUIN!"

"Pa!" he replied, startled by the loud mention of his name.

"Come home later tonight, we need to discuss something important," his father said in a tone that he knew he couldn't refuse.

He smiled. "Okay, Dad," he replied before ending the call.

Right now, he already had an idea of what it was about and what their discussion would entail. He was prepared for it and knew exactly what he would say. He'd tell his father that he wasn't ready yet and that when he did decide to marry, it would be to a woman he truly loved.

Despite his playboy reputation, he loved his father dearly. That's why, despite his reputation, everyone still considered him a good son.