The Withered Rose (A Novel)

Prologue

The tone of her voice suggested that leaving her hometown was her final decision. “I’m done with this godforsaken town. Nothing ever happens here. I long for something more exciting in my youthful years.” And off Olivia went for the door leaving Mario teary-eyed.

It had not been half a year since the two started going out but the young and voluptuous Olivia from the small town of Mactan decided to leave everything behind for a more electrifying and youthful experience in Manila – a belief she will later regret.

Chapter I

It was a pleasant evening. The thick nimbus clouds had dissipated and the sky was faintly illuminated by the distant stars. Olivia was busying herself packing her stuff for her departure the next day when she heard a knock on the door of her rented all-girls dormitory just across from the university she attended.

“What brought you here, Mario? It is almost 11 in the evening and you know that men aren’t allowed to enter the premises beyond 10pm. You’re lucky the strict nuns didn’t catch you.”, Olivia said in a barely audible voice whilst grabbing his arm.

“I needed to see you.”, was his quick response, closing the door behind him.

The persuasion lasted for a little over an hour and Mario left the building with a heavy heart. Olivia couldn't be convinced to stay. She was determined to change the course of her boring existence. She had dreams. She wanted luxury and she wanted the spotlight to be directed at her.

Chapter II

Heavy traffic and pollution greeted everyone who visited Manila at least once in their life and Olivia's first day in the Philippine capital was not an exception. She brought out from her small shoulder bag a handkerchief that her mum knitted on that one night whilst waiting for her drunk husband to come home. When he arrived exhaling Tanduay 65 rum later that night and discovered there was no food in the dirty kitchen of their dilapidated tiny hut, pots immediately started to fly around that the sound they created went in chorus with his loud rant.

Olivia quickly shrugged the bad memory off and covered half of her face with the handkerchief as she stepped out of the port and into the early morning chaos of the city. She kept walking on the left-hand side of the road ignoring the occasional whistling to call her attention from the shirtless boys playing cards on the sidewalk. It was impossible not to notice the curves that outlined her gorgeous body. She was 11 when she had her first menstruation and since then her breasts had started to blossom and her buttocks had grown into a pair of perfectly supple round flesh. The impact of her steps on the ground sent tiny ripples on her huge mounds. She continued her way crossing M. Roxas Jr. Bridge and down to Bonifacio Drive. Pasig River smelt like everything unwanted including carcasses was dumped into it.

Ramon Montemayor was a prominent middle-aged banana exporter from Palawan. He had inherited from his wealthy parents 50 hectares of arable land, a vast plain packed with banana trees that he had to acquire two helicopters to be used in watering them. Ramon was also involved in a drug syndicate with some of the richest men in China and in other parts of Asia. The organisation had connections with governments that whatever problem caused by the competition or by anyone in the group was easily resolved by planting a bullet in their head.

He dozed off behind the wheel of his black Escalade ESV parked illegally across from Manila Cathedral. When he gained consciousness, Olivia was right there next to him sitting in the passenger's seat.

"Olivia.", extending her right hand to reach his.

The drive to his hotel in Makati took 3 long hours due to an idiot who crossed Buendia without using the skywalk. A speeding 10-wheeler had just run over a lad and crushed his head and it resulted to heavy congestion on the highway. Despite the traffic management warning, hundreds of adventurous freaks leisurely cross many highways in Manila as if they were walking in the park every single day. Olivia felt nauseous to see the horrible scene. She had not seen blood, tissue, and brain scattered in every direction on asphalt before. She became dizzy and fainted in his car the rest of the trip.

His spacious and air-conditioned suite at Shangri-La’s Makati provided the much-needed comfort after the traumatic experience. The elaborate carvings on the ceiling, the dimly-lit surroundings in the 74-square-metre deluxe suite, the lampshade on the corner table, and just about everything in the room including its smell made it worth the exorbitant daily rate. She fell asleep in the comforts of his queen size bed.

To be continued...