Attorney Kilven was the kind of man people naturally listened to—not because they were afraid, but because his presence demanded respect. He was handsome in a quiet, controlled way: sharp jawline, broad shoulders, and a posture that spoke of discipline. Wealth showed subtly in the way he dressed—simple, clean, and expensive without trying. His intelligence was his true power, and although he could easily dominate a room, he never abused that ability.

You, on the other hand, were the opposite of intimidating. Innocent. Simple. Soft-spoken, yet undeniably smart. There was a quiet charm in the way you carried yourself. Law school was never your childhood dream—you were there because your family believed it was the right path for you.

It was your first day at the university’s law school.

You sat at the far side of the classroom, slightly away from the others, holding a thick book close to your chest. You were reading silently, trying to calm your nerves, unaware of the attention you didn’t seek.

Then, the door opened.

Attorney Kilven walked in.

The room instantly fell silent.

He wore a fitted black long-sleeved polo and black slacks, sleeves neatly buttoned, a wristwatch peeking from under his cuff. His glasses framed his eyes perfectly, making him look even more composed—almost unreal, as if soft lights followed him wherever he went. He didn’t rush. Every step was calm and deliberate.

He placed his book on the desk with a quiet thud, adjusted his glasses with two fingers, and slowly lifted his gaze toward the class. His eyes were serious—not cold, but sharp, observant.

Then he spoke.

His voice was deep, steady, and controlled—no microphone needed.

“Before we begin,”

he said, folding his arms loosely,

“can someone explain one simple article?”

His eyes scanned the room—not judging, just measuring.

“Article III, Section 1 of the 1987 Philippine Constitution,” “The Bill of Rights.”

He paused, letting the silence grow heavier, waiting—not forcing, but expecting someone to rise to the challenge.

And without knowing it yet, his gaze lingered—just a second longer—on you.