“It’s been 5 years?” – a deep voice rang out right behind me, making me stop, my heart stopped.

I didn’t intend to raise my head, but the shiny leather shoes blocked my way, the scent of expensive perfume filled the small space of the elevator. I knew who it was – Mr. Ricardo Alvarado, the boss on the 15th floor, the notorious man of the high-rise building in Makati.

It was rumored that he had forced female employees to quit their jobs, that his eyes often wandered over women’s bodies instead of focusing on his reports. I swore to stay away.

But the words: “It’s been 5 years?” made me freeze.

Memories arose

This morning, I was only going to replace my mother in the cleaning shift. My mother suddenly fell ill, and I couldn’t take time off because seasonal work in this building was easily replaced. I felt sorry for my mother, so I wore a loose uniform, carried a bucket and a mop, and entered the Alvarado building. The only thought: do it quickly, do it cleanly, and then disappear.

The 15th floor – the general manager’s office – was not on the cleaning schedule today, but I had to bring the tools to the warehouse. I didn’t expect it to be right when he was coming home from the elevator.

“How long have you been working here?” – his voice rang out, curious and half-smiling and half-sarcastic.

“Yes, I just took over for Mom.” – I answered softly, avoiding eye contact.

“I took over… but I can’t mistake that face. It’s been 5 years, right?”

I looked up, stunned.

Old memories flooded back: the laughter in the hallway of my old school in Quezon City, the black SUV stopping in front of the gate, and the look from the driver’s seat that made me shiver.

I was 18 that year, just graduated from high school. Mom worked as a kasambahay for a wealthy family. I occasionally helped her to earn money to go to college. One evening, while waiting for Mom outside the gate, Ricardo’s car stopped. He looked at me for a long time.

A few days later, I received a strange call inviting me to a “part-time interview.” I naively thought it was an opportunity. But that day, the quiet hotel room was all he had.

His calculating eyes, suggestive words… I panicked and ran away, luckily a waiter stepped in just in time. He didn’t touch me, but the obsession never went away. After that day, I cut off contact, changed my number, focused on studying, and tried to forget.

For 5 years, I thought he had forgotten. But no – he remembered very clearly.

In the following days, I worked in a state of fear. I absolutely avoided the 15th floor, but he took the initiative to appear. One time, he stood right at the door of the tool room, smirking:
“You haven’t changed much. Don’t think I’m as easy to forgive as last time.”

My fear grew. I didn’t dare tell my mother for fear of losing her job. Who would believe that a janitorial staff was noticed by the general manager?

One evening, when I was collecting trash on the 10th floor, I saw an envelope on the reception desk:

“Meet me, room 1505, 8 o’clock tomorrow night. If not, I will come to you myself.”

My hands were shaking.

That night I knew: either run away forever, or face it to end it.

At 8 o’clock the next night, I stood in front of the door of room 1505. The hallway was quiet. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Ricardo opened it, smiling. The private office was large, the smell of wine wafted in the air. He sat down on the chair, pointing to the chair opposite:
“Sit down. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”

I clenched my fists, not sitting:
“What do you want?”

He raised his eyebrows:
“Why have you avoided me for 5 years? You know I can give you everything – money, a career, a fulfilling life. You just need to… be obedient.”

My chest tightened, but this time it was different. The fear that had been suppressed for too long turned into anger:
“Do you think money can buy everything? You’re the one who made me lose sleep for 5 years. Do you know how I lived?”

Ricardo was surprised for a moment, then smiled faintly:
“Life is like that. The weak must know how to seize opportunities. Don’t make yourself pitiful.”

I trembled but held my head high:
“If you bother me again, I’ll call the police. I’m not a scared 18-year-old girl anymore.”

The atmosphere fell silent. He tapped his fingers lightly on the table, his eyes cold:
“Okay. But remember, your mother’s job… I only need one call and she’ll lose her job.”

That blow left me speechless. He didn’t need to touch me, just power to tighten his grip on my family.

I left the room, my legs heavy. But a thought flashed through my mind: if I didn’t stand up, my mother would forever be a pawn for others to trample on.

That night, I decided to write a complaint, along with the memory of that night 5 years ago. I tried to contact the hotel staff that day – the only person who could testify.

This battle was certainly not easy. But I understood: it was time to escape the shadow of the past.

And for the first time in many years, I closed my eyes to sleep with the belief: tomorrow morning, I would no longer be a fugitive.