When The Poor Girl Suddenly Became Rich

There was something off.

The way Andrea smiled lately—too affectionate. The subtle flush in her cheeks, the slow replies during their weekly check-ins. And one thing he never expected to see:

The look of a girl in love.

And not the puppy-love kind. But the kind that made her forget to be scared.

And that was dangerous.

So, when his assistant handed him a printed photo—a screenshot from a public Instagram story posted by a certain Alonzo Ramirez—Lolo Dela Vuega didn't even blink.

In the photo, Andi was laughing mid-bite into some fries, while a tan-skinned guy with glasses, and a complete disregard for folding his collar, had his arm around her.

His lips were dangerously close to her temple.

"Sir," said the assistant. "That's the one she's been seeing. Business Administration student. Dean's Lister. Gamer. Scholarship from a private sponsor. No record with the school or the local government. Quiet type, but popular on campus for tutoring."

"Parents?"

"Both OFWs (Overseas Filipino Workers). In Qatar. He's the eldest of three siblings."

The old man nodded slowly, eyes locked on the photo like it was a puzzle he needed to solve with surgical precision.

"Academic background?"

"Top 3 in his senior high batch. Now in third year. Clean record. Works online part-time, does freelancing too."

Lolo Dela Vuega looked at the photo again.

Too clean. Too perfect. Or too smart to leave traces?

---

The next day, Alonzo was just leaving campus when a man in black approached him.

"Mr. Ramirez?"

"Yeah?"

"I work for Navarro Holdings. May I speak with you, privately?"

Ten minutes later, Alonzo was sitting in the back of a luxury SUV—facing him.

Lolo Dela Vuega. The man. The myth. The bank account.

He wore a crisp gray suit, a gold pen clipped to his breast pocket, sharp eyes behind a pair of reading glasses. He looked like he'd been born in a boardroom.

"I suppose you know who I am."

Alonzo nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of how dusty his sneakers were.

"Yes, sir. You're Andi's grandfather."

A beat.

"And you're the boy who kisses my granddaughter in parked cars?"

Alonzo's soul left his body. "S-sir—"

"Relax." Lolo raised a hand. "I've seen worse starts."

A pause.

"But let's be clear. Andrea is not an ordinary girl. She is not your school crush or your cute fantasy to explore."

Alonzo nodded again, slower.

"She is the last living heiress to the Dela Vuega name. Daughter of my only child. The bloodline that survived generations of betrayal, power plays, and vultures in designer shoes."

Alonzo swallowed hard.

"I don't care if you come from nothing. I care if you're here for something."

"I'm not using her, sir," Alonzo said quietly. "I'm just… loving her."

Lolo raised a brow. "Then do it well."

A pause.

"Because if you hurt her, I won't yell. I won't press charges. I won't even threaten to kill you."

Alonzo waited.

"I'll simply make sure that every job offer you ever get," Lolo said with a calm smile, "comes with a rejection letter already attached."

The silence was suffocating.

Then, after what felt like forever, Lolo looked away and knocked on the window.

The driver opened the door.

"You may go."

Alonzo stepped out, heart pounding, throat dry, spine stiffened by sheer fear.

- ; -

It was a normal day. Too normal, actually.

The sky was clear, her Calculus quiz wasn't as terrifying as she expected, and Alonzo was waiting outside her building like always—leaning against the hood of his car, earbuds in, arms crossed, looking like every college girl's dream guy who didn't even have to try.

"Hi, babe," she greeted, climbing into the passenger seat.

"Hey, sunshine," he smirked. "What do you want to eat today? You aced your quiz."

"It was just a quiz. Don't celebrate yet." She rolled her eyes.

"Too late. I brought garlic bread—it's in the back."

She laughed.

Normal. Sweet. Too damn normal.

They drove to a ramen place 20 minutes away, shared food like always, teased each other over table napkins, even fought over who would pay the bill (Alonzo won again—he paid while Andi was in the restroom). Everything felt like any other date.

Except…

There was something different.

The way he kept reaching for her hand a little more than usual. The way his eyes lingered when he thought she wasn't looking. The way he whispered "I missed you" in the middle of her rant about how Calculus is a scam.

But most of all?

The way he looked like a man who had just seen his whole life flash before his eyes… and chose to laugh it off.

Later that night, they were back in his car, parked outside Andi's house.

He reached over and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Thanks for today," he said. "You don't know how much I needed it."

Andi smiled. "Lods, you're acting like you were the one who took the quiz."

"Hey, emotional support is draining too."

They laughed again.

But the weird itch in the back of her mind wouldn't go away.

"Andi?"

"Hmm?"

"If you didn't know me personally… would you still have a crush on me?"

She raised a brow. "Wait, what?"

"Hypothetical," he said with a shrug and grin. "Like, if you saw me for the first time, eating street food in some corner—would you still crush on me?"

"Depends. Do you have sauce on your nose?"

He gasped. "Wow, rude."

"Kidding," she smiled. "Yeah, probably. You're the type who's quiet but witty. The kind of guy you fall for without realizing it."

He leaned in closer. "Exactly. I'm dangerous."

"Hmm. You're nothing compared to my grandpa."

"Touché."

Andi laughed… but then it hit her.

Wait.

"Speaking of my grandpa…"

Alonzo blinked. "Hmm?"

"You've… never met him, right?"

Pause.

Too long a pause.

"Technically… no," he said, overly casual, like a man tiptoeing through a minefield in white sneakers.

"Technically?" she echoed, narrowing her eyes.

He cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck, avoided her gaze.

Andi's heart dropped. "Alonzo."

"…Yes?"

"Did you… did you meet my grandfather?"

Silence.

She knew the answer before he spoke.

"…Define meet," he muttered.

She turned to fully face him now, arms crossed. "Did. He. Talk. To. You."

"Yes," he admitted finally, in a small voice. "But like, very briefly—"

"Alonzo!"

"Okay fine! I got summoned! Like I was in John Wick or something!"

"What?!"

"He sent a guy in black! I thought I was getting recruited for a heist!"

"Babe!"

"Next thing I knew, I was in a luxury SUV with a man who looked like he eats CEOs' souls for breakfast—"

Andi slapped his arm. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Because I didn't want you to freak out!" he defended. "And you were so happy that day, I couldn't ruin it by saying, 'Hey babe, your grandpa interviewed me like I'm applying for a loan and a life sentence.'"

She stared at him, jaw slack.

"He… threatened you, didn't he?"

Alonzo opened his mouth, then shut it. "…He implied consequences."

Andi groaned into her hands. "Did he mention… job rejections?"

"He said he'd make sure my future has none."

"Oh my god," Andi groaned. "I'm going to kill that old man."

Alonzo gently pulled her hands from her face. "Hey," he said softly. "I'm still here. I survived. I'm still your boyfriend. And I'm not scared of him."

"Really?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," he whispered. "I was shaking the whole time."

They both burst out laughing.

And then Andi leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you. For not leaving."

Alonzo grinned. "It'll take more than a billionaire grandpa to scare me away from you."

"Bold words for someone who almost peed in a luxury SUV."

"Shhh."