Novels by Any Mious

Ninety Days LeftHe closed the door on the sound of Elena's voice rising into full, furious volume, on Don Ramon's stunned silence finally cracking into recrimination, on Bel's broken protests dissolving under the weight of a truth she'd spent weeks trying to keep buried.Rafi stood in his empty foyer for a long moment, listening to the muffled chaos continuing on his front lawn, and felt something in his chest that he almost didn't recognize anymore.Not triumph, exactly. Something quieter than that. Something closer to relief.He walked back to the study, back to the box of Lolo Bert's belongings he'd left half-unpacked, and sat down on the floor beside it, letting the adrenaline of the last twenty minutes finally drain out of his hands.Ninety days left. He'd spent the last nine cutting away every piece of a life that had been quietly killing him for years, and now, for the first time since he'd woken up gasping in that bank office, he had nothing left to burn down. Only things le

What the Village Already Knew"Isabel Ongpin," Elena said, using her daughter's full maiden name the way she only did when genuinely furious, "answer me. What DNA results?"Rafi watched Bel's composure crack in real time — the same composure she'd worn like armor through nine years of marriage, through the annulment proceedings, through every conversation where she'd let her family believe whatever version of events made her look most sympathetic."Miguel isn't Rafi's son," Bel finally said, barely above a whisper.The words landed in the driveway like something physical."What," Don Ramon said, very quietly, "did you just say?"Elena stared at her daughter."What DNA results?"Bel said nothing.Don Ramon looked from Bel to Rafi."Isabel."The use of her full name made her shoulders tense."Answer your mother."Bel's lips parted."Miguel isn't Rafi's son."For a moment the world seemed to stop.Even the renovation noise from inside the house appeared distant.Elena's face went blank.

The House Across the StreetThe Ferrer estate — Rafi's estate now — sat behind a fresh coat of white paint and a wrought-iron gate still smelling faintly of new hardware, renovation crews having finished the essential work in a punishing two-week sprint that had cost triple the normal rate for the rush.Rafi stood in what would eventually become his study, unpacking a box of Lolo Bert's old belongings — photographs, a rosary, a handful of documents he hadn't had the heart to look through yet — when the doorbell rang with the kind of aggressive, repeated insistence that told him exactly who was standing outside before he even checked.He opened the door to find Don Ramon and Elena on his front step, both dressed like they'd come for a formal negotiation rather than an ambush, and just behind them, hovering awkwardly at the edge of the driveway, Bel — clearly having followed to try to contain whatever was about to happen."Rafael," Don Ramon began, straightening his collar with the air

The Village TalksMrs. Padernal had lived on Mahogany Street for thirty-one years, long enough to consider herself the unofficial historian of every scandal the block had ever produced, and she was not about to let this particular piece of news go unshared.She arrived at the Ongpin residence at nine in the morning, still in her walking clothes, practically vibrating with the effort of holding the information in during the two-minute drive over."Elena!" she called through the gate, waving off the househelp who tried to intercept her. "Elena, have you heard? Do you know who bought the Ferrer lot?"Elena appeared at the door, mildly annoyed at the interruption, still in her housedress. "Bakit naman, Connie, ang aga-aga—""Your son-in-law!" Mrs. Padernal announced, practically glowing with the delivery. "Rafael! He bought it — cash, in full, three hundred forty million, no bank financing at all! Ang swerte niyo naman, ang galing pala ng manugang niyo!"By nine in the morning, Mrs. Pader

Buyer's MarketRonnie called back at nine the next morning, sounding significantly more awake and significantly more confused. "Okay, I talked to the Ferrer family lawyer. They'll sell — but Rafi, we're talking three hundred and forty million, and that's before renovation. Are you seriously telling me you can move on this today?""Draw up the paperwork," Rafi said, already dressed and standing in his hotel room, watching morning traffic crawl along Ortigas Avenue below. "I'll wire the deposit within the hour.""A deposit of what, exactly?""Fifty million."Ronnie arrived at the Ferrer estate with two lawyers, a folder thick enough to make the purchase look more complicated than it actually was, and an expression that never quite settled between disbelief and concern."Three hundred forty million," Ronnie repeated as they stood outside the gate. "Cash.""Correct.""You realize I knew you when you were borrowing my motorcycle because your car was in the shop.""I remember.""And now yo

Ninety-Nine Million to OneThe lotto outlet near Rafi's rented condo in Ortigas was the same one he remembered from a lifetime he was trying very hard to leave behind — fluorescent lights, a bored attendant scrolling her phone, a hand-lettered sign advertising the current Grand Lotto jackpot climbing toward half a billion pesos.He remembered the numbers the way you remember your own birthday. He'd stared at that winning combination for three straight days in his previous life, standing in a soup line outside a relief center, watching a stranger's phone flash the results while Rafi himself hadn't had two hundred pesos to spare on a ticket that week.This time, he had exactly enough."A hundred tickets," Rafi told the attendant, sliding his ID across the counter along with every peso he'd managed to withdraw before Bel's lawyers could freeze anything jointly held. "Same combination on all of them."The attendant looked up, one eyebrow raised. "Sir, that's — you sure? Same six numbers,