Danielle sat back in her worn-out office chair, cracking her knuckles as she stared at the list of damaged furniture orders. Every delivery that came in with a scratch, a dent, or worse, meant another hit to their reputation. A reputation she fought tooth and nail to protect, especially with Axel's family empire dangling by the edge of a cliff.
She wasn't just looking for answers—she was hunting heads. Every link in the supply chain was under her scrutiny. She had set the standards. She had made it clear that quality wasn't negotiable. Now, she was about to trace every error back to the source, finding out who was responsible for the defective goods that kept slipping through the cracks.
She drafted her email quickly, a sense of urgency gnawing at her. A few short lines to the team: Caden, Em, Louis, Tigo, the warehouse team, and the supply chain team, all copied in. They were all under her watch now, and she intended to find out who screwed up.
She attached the report of the damages, marked the dates, and identified the problematic orders. "I need every detail," she typed. "Start from the packing process, go over the footage from the CCTV. If anything looks off, I need to know."
Danielle paused before sending. Years in the business had made her skeptical, yet she knew she had to give the benefit of the doubt—at least for now. She believed in systems. Trusting systems, not people. Based on industry standards, packaging areas always had CCTV, with audio recordings. She was confident they'd be able to pinpoint where the mistakes happened. But she'd seen enough to know that sometimes, things didn't show up on camera. It was those moments where people weren't careful, or when shortcuts were taken, that caused the real problems.
The warehouse team gathered in the dimly lit conference room, the long table scattered with shipping reports and packing material samples. Caden sat at the head, laptop open, ready to mediate.
The screen showed Caden's face and the names of others connected. Danielle's video remained off, only her voice filling the room remotely.
"Thanks for joining," Caden said. "Dan is joining us for this meeting, so let's focus."
Danielle's voice came through clear and calm.
"Alright, team. I'm here because the number of damaged shipments is unacceptable. We need to fix packaging issues now."
Marlo, the warehouse lead, glanced around the room at his team.
"We've been running tight on supplies. Bubble wrap is almost out, tape stocks are rationed, and the serrated cartons we got recently aren't holding up."
Danielle responded immediately.
"Are you ordering replacements? And what's causing the delay?"
Jessa, the supply coordinator, leaned forward.
"Our supplier's delayed bubble wrap shipments. Tape is fine for now, but some crews have been using lower-quality tape to stretch supplies."
Danielle typed quickly in the chat.
"We need a full inventory audit today. No cutting corners—damaged packaging means lost trust."
Marlo nodded.
"Also, some packers are rushing through orders. Maybe refresher training will help."
Danielle agreed.
"Schedule training for next week. Reinforce standards. And if anyone feels overwhelmed, speak up."
Caden added.
"I'll oversee inventory checks and coordinate with suppliers."
Danielle's voice softened.
"This affects customer trust. Let's fix this, starting now."
The team exchanged looks, energized by the clear direction. Danielle's video didn't appear, but her presence was felt strongly through her voice and messages.
Then Dan's tone sharpened again.
"Caden, are the wrapping materials—bubble wraps, tapes—are they sourced from China?"
Caden glanced at the team before replying.
"Yes, the bubble wrap and some tapes come from China."
Dan's tone tightened.
"Then why haven't we set proper reorder points? Inventory tipping over, supplies running low—it defeats the purpose if we can't keep the materials in good condition for transport."
A few of the warehouse managers exchanged subtle glances. Hearing Dan Reyes's voice for the first time—direct, authoritative—caught them off guard. They had only known him, as they assumed, - her as a name in emails and Slack messages.
Marlo, the senior warehouse manager, cleared his throat.
"To be honest, the reorder thresholds weren't adjusted after last quarter's increase in shipments. The focus was more on handling volume than supply optimization."
Dan didn't miss a beat.
"That needs fixing immediately. I want updated reorder points in place this week. No more excuses."
Caden nodded firmly.
"Understood, Dan. I'll coordinate with the inventory team first thing tomorrow."
The room was silent for a moment, the weight of Dan Reyes's first live instructions settling over them.
The weight of these complaints hit her a moment later. It was one thing to spot a mistake; it was another to know how deep it ran.
As the ping from Slack interrupted her thoughts, she groaned and checked the notification. It was from Don Alonzo Xavier Real de Lara. He was asking if she had a minute. She couldn't help but chuckle bitterly.
Ironic, she thought. His son Axel never had a single ounce of the politeness his father possessed. Axel's arrogance always rubbed her the wrong way, but Don Alonzo was a different breed—calm, calculating, and always a step ahead. The man was as polished as the furniture he sold.
Sighing, she wiped her hands on her jeans and opened the message.
She hurriedly responded: "Hola Don Alonzo! I have more than a minute for you, how can I help?"
After the message was read, her FaceTime rang.
"That was fast!"
"Hola Danielle! I called for a few things. One being, how assured is Axel with the addition of the construction wing? How will that affect your current operations? What are we expecting with this? How are we going to operate? Also, are you spearheading this?"
A pause. Then, in his signature drawl:
"I recently just found out you were a project manager for a high-caliber engineering firm in the Philippines. I'm expecting that you were informed beforehand, sí?"
The rapid-fire questions caught her off guard, but not entirely. She had expected this. She freaking expected it. Just not this soon.
She sat straighter and took a breath.
"Hola, Don Alonzo," she began. "I think I missed a few questions, but I'll try my best to answer everything. As of now, I was not informed of the expansion. Axel has not discussed anything with me regarding it. However, based on our current numbers, manpower, and capabilities, I can confidently say that we can enter the construction industry with ease."
It came out in one breath. She inhaled sharply and continued.
"The idea came into play a couple of months ago when Axel asked me to explore ways to move goods more efficiently. I joked that in my early years, construction was the way to go. Tapping into the Asian market—importing raw materials, manufacturing here, and building locally. He hasn't filled a team for the wing yet, and I'm still busy progressing our current product line, plus the newly unveiled winery where operations have been backed up by advance orders. Not that I am complaining, but honestly? I'm not confident I can handle both."
"Besides... To get the construction wing off the ground, If I were to run this, I have to handle a lot — sourcing reliable suppliers for raw materials, securing permits and regulatory clearances, coordinating with local contractors, setting up project management systems, recruiting and training a skilled workforce, and ensuring strict quality and safety standards. There's also the challenge of integrating these new operations with our existing logistics and supply chain. It's a complex puzzle."
She let the words hang for a beat.
"This will take time to roll out. It won't churn money overnight. But I'll be there the whole while."
As she finished her words, she tuned out her nagging demons to silence:
"Wala kang choice. Kung kailangan mong mag-overtime, basta bayad—go. Kailangan mong makahanap ng permanenteng bahay!"
Don Alonzo responded with a chuckle.
"Why is it that when you explain things to me, I can clearly see how everything will unravel? Unlike those tontos in the office, eating their words. When are you moving to Spain, Bella? You're most welcome here."
It was always the same question: when was she moving to Spain with her daughter?
She laughed softly.
"I'll try next year. We'll go once the dust here settles. I promise."
The call ended abruptly after exchanging pleasantries and a whole lot of convincing that I'll come over to Spain sooner.
Her mind drifted and a soft smile formed in her lips.
Her mind wandered for a second, back to the first time she'd interacted with Axel's father. She was fresh off retrenchment and struggling to make ends meet. Rent was overdue, PLDT was about to shut off the internet, her car loan was a joke, and she could barely afford a cheap meal from the sari-sari store.
That's when she stumbled across the ad for the position in the family business. She wasn't picky—she couldn't afford to be. A remote role for an up-and-coming company trying to dip their toes into e-commerce. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get her through another month. She wasn't even sure who'd see her application, but it didn't matter. She was desperate.
"Wag chossy, wala kang pambayad ng renta, PLDT, car loan, at bills!" she had muttered to herself, laughing at her own sarcasm. It was a low moment, but one that forced her to hit 'apply' and send off the resume, not caring what the company was, just praying for a callback.
She never expected to get it.
The following week, she had an interview with Caden, one of the company founders. His smile was warm enough, but the business was clearly still in its early days. Yet, something about the family-run operation spoke to her. Maybe it was the challenge. Maybe it was just the need to get her life back on track.
She never expected it to get this far.
But before she could think much further, another Slack message pinged through.
This time, it was from May, the Customer Success Manager.
"Hey, Dan. Can we talk about a few of the recent furniture orders? There have been some complaints about damages in transit. Can we meet soon?"
Danielle's eyebrows shot up. Damages again. This was becoming a pattern. She replied quickly.
"Of course, May. Let's schedule a call. I've already started an internal review on this. Let's discuss when you have a free slot."
May wasn't as blunt as some of the other team members, but Danielle knew her well enough to sense the urgency in the message. May was the type who hated to escalate issues unnecessarily, which meant this was important.
She glanced at the time. It was nearly noon, and her stomach was growling, but there was no time for lunch now. It had been the same rhythm for years now—always a few minutes for something to eat, a few minutes to grab a breath. But no real breaks.
Danielle's life wasn't her own anymore. Between managing the furniture damage issue, her responsibilities for the e-commerce business, and her rapidly evolving role in the new construction project, there was little room for anything else. Her daughter, Ellenore, was still in the other room working on her homework. It was ironic, really—Danielle had spent the morning answering emails about furniture damage while her daughter was stuck on grammar exercises, talking about "predicates" and "subjects."
Sometimes, Danielle wondered how she managed it all. How did she juggle running a business and being a mother? It was a balancing act she wasn't sure anyone outside of her understood.
Her phone buzzed again. It was Caden.
"Just wanted to confirm we're all on track for the next shipment—make sure the packaging's tight on this one. The damage rate has been through the roof lately, and we need to make sure we're not losing customers."
This was the first major incident since Danielle had come onboard. Nothing like this had happened before, and it was clear the pressure was mounting.
Danielle ran her fingers through her hair.
"Tell me about it," she mumbled to herself.
She needed to get to the bottom of this.