Whispers of the Southern Sky

By Melanie Sacay Lizardo

Ashley Parker-Dmitri, an interior designer of the prestigious NYC Company, never imagined that her career would lead her to the distant shores of New Zealand. The billionaire’s offer arrived like a cryptic message—a riddle wrapped in intrigue. Despite her initial refusal, the company insisted, their resolve unyielding.
And so, Ashley found herself at Auckland Airport, her frustration simmering. A driver and a butler awaited her, their expressions as enigmatic as the assignment itself. Who was this mysterious client? Why the cloak-and-dagger routine?
As the car wound through rolling hills, she glimpsed the Southern Cross—a constellation foreign to her Northern Hemisphere eyes. It felt like a secret handshake between continents—a celestial nod to her journey’s purpose. But still, she lacked a name, a face, anything beyond the nebulous promise of design.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 30, 2024
• ISBN: 9798823026086

Melanie Sacay Lizardo

Melanie Lear: A Literary Journey In the bustling city of Cebu, Philippines, Melanie Sacay Lizardo—better known as Melanie Lear in the publishing world—embarks on a long-awaited quest: to share her creative soul with the world. Her cozy apartment, nestled amidst the vibrant streets, serves as both sanctuary and inspiration. An Applied Linguistics major by day, Melanie’s affinity for language and expression led her to her current position. But it was her childhood fascination with poetry—particularly sonnets—short stories, and impassioned speeches that ignited her artistic flame. Even then, she wove words like threads, stitching together her dreams and experiences. Beyond academia, Melanie wears the mantle of an advocate. Her heart beats for gender equality, a cause she champions with unwavering resolve. She stands as a shield against domestic violence, a beacon of hope for those seeking refuge. And in the darkest corners, she fights against the insidious specter of sexual assault, her voice echoing through the corridors of change.

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© 2024 Melanie Sacay Lizardo. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse   04/30/2024

ISBN: 979-8-8230-2609-3 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-8230-2608-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2024908718

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1 Awakening

Chapter 2 The Verdant Reverie

Chapter 3 A Muse Patron

Chapter 4 Secret No More

Chapter 5 Almost

Chapter 6 Finally

Chapter 7 Answers

Chapter 8 History

Chapter 9 A Tale of New Beginnings

Chapter 10 Escape to Siargao

Chapter 11 Bob

Chapter 12 Revelation

Epilogue: A New Horizon

About the Author

To my loving husband- Chris and son- Ezrah.

PROLOGUE

Ashley Parker-Dmitri, an interior designer of the prestigious NYC Company, never imagined that her career would lead her to the distant shores of New Zealand. The billionaire’s offer arrived like a cryptic message—a riddle wrapped in intrigue. Despite her initial refusal, the company insisted, their resolve unyielding.

And so, Ashley found herself at Auckland Airport, her frustration simmering. A driver and a butler awaited her, their expressions as enigmatic as the assignment itself. Who was this mysterious client? Why the cloak-and-dagger routine?

As the car wound through rolling hills, she glimpsed the Southern Cross—a constellation foreign to her Northern Hemisphere eyes. It felt like a secret handshake between continents—a celestial nod to her journey’s purpose. But still, she lacked a name, a face, anything beyond the nebulous promise of design.

In the sun-drenched villa overlooking the Tasman Sea, they handed her a profile—a dossier of intrigue. Her client: a recluse, a visionary, a collector of forgotten stories. His interests spanned galaxies—art, music, astrophysics. His favorite color: midnight blue, the hue of cosmic mysteries.

Studying his data sheet, Ashley discovered peculiarities. He preferred Fibonacci spirals in his furniture design, and his favorite scent was petrichor—the earth’s sigh after rain. His requests were cryptic: Bring me the constellations, he wrote. Weave stardust into the fabric of my home.

And so, Ashley dove into the unknown. She sketched galaxies on parchment, sourced meteorite fragments for countertops, and hung chandeliers that whispered secrets. The villa transformed—a celestial haven where time bent like light around a black hole.

But it was the weekends that puzzled her. Notable tour packages awaited—the glowworm caves, the geysers, the fjords. Why did her client insist on these escapes? What did he seek beyond the nebulae of his home?

As the days blurred into weeks, Ashley felt a mixed emotion—a cocktail of confusion and curiosity. Who was this person that the CEO trusted implicitly? Why send an employee to stay for 30 days, wrapped in stardust and enigma?

Tonight, as the Southern Cross blazed above the villa, Ashley stood on the balcony, her gaze fixed on the stars. She clutched a letter—the ink still fresh, the words etched with love.

May your secrets unfold like origami galaxies, and may our design transcend borders.

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CHAPTER ONE

Awakening

"D RIIIIIIIIIIIN!" THE DIGITAL clock’s shrill cry pierced Ashley’s slumber. She slammed the stop button, forcing her heavy eyelids open. The room remained dim, the curtains drawn tightly against the morning light. It was 6:30—a time when most people embraced the day with enthusiasm. But for Ashley, it was another battle against the unknown.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her feet grazing the cool wooden floor. Five feet eight inches of determination, she thought, as if her height granted her an advantage in navigating life’s twists and turns. The window beckoned—a lone sentinel veiled by heavy fabric. Oddly, the weather betrayed her expectations. Last night’s forecast promised a clear and sunny day, yet gloom clung to the glass.

Twenty-one to twenty-seven degrees Celsius, she muttered, recalling the typical temperature for this time of year. But this first week of September defied convention. Frustration simmered within her—a tempest brewing in the quietude of her two-bedroom apartment.

The minimalist design of her home satellite office offered little distraction. An empty aisle stretched before her, its plainness a canvas awaiting purpose. Her eyes fell upon an abstract painting—an ethereal dance of colors. A gift from her University sponsor, it held memories of late-night study sessions, dreams sketched in pencil, and resilience forged through adversity. The painting smiled back at her, a silent companion in her daily struggle.

Ashley’s life bore no luxury. Orphaned at fourteen, she clung to her mother’s memory—the scent of lavender, the warmth of bedtime stories. The accident that claimed her parents left her in the care of her old maiden aunt. College became her refuge, a sanctuary where she worked her ass off to earn a degree in Interior Design from the Fashion Institute of Technology. The diploma hung on her wall—a testament to her tenacity.

Logging into her personal computer, Ashley reviewed her schedule. Another project, she whispered, excitement bubbling. The client—a mysterious figure rumored to be a family member of the director—demanded her best. She opened her creative folders, each file a repository of ideas, sketches, and dreams. Today, she would weave magic with her designs, leaving an indelible mark on the canvas of possibility.

As the clock ticked toward the meeting, Ashley squared her shoulders. The abstract painting seemed to nod in approval. Impress, it whispered. And so she would—brushstrokes of resilience, strokes of creativity, on the canvas of her destiny.

Ashley’s fingers danced across the screen of her mobile phone, summoning the digital oracle that was Vicky. Three years of camaraderie had forged an unbreakable bond between them. Vicky—the keeper of secrets, the repository of office lore, and the wielder of a tactless tongue—was Ashley’s trusted confidante.

Let me try to get some information from Vicky, Ashley murmured, lifting the phone to her ear. The connection crackled to life, and Vicky’s voice spilled forth—a blend of efficiency and familiarity.

Ash, I was just about to call you, Vicky declared. The office buzzed with curiosity. They assumed you held the dossier on this mysterious client.

Interesting, Ashley replied, her curiosity piqued. But my hands remain empty. Guess I’ll unravel the enigma in person. Oh, and Vicky, be punctual this time. Ten o’clock sharp. Bring folders fourteen and twenty.

Vicky’s parting words hung in the air like a cryptic riddle. The meeting will be at the penthouse.

The penthouse—a lofty realm perched on the seventeenth floor of the company’s tower. A place where mahogany and marble whispered secrets, where the CEO’s footsteps echoed like distant thunder. Not everyone occupied the entire building; the management had cleverly rented out floors one through eleven to other businesses. But the penthouse—the crown jewel—remained the domain of the company owner and their kin.

Ashley rose from her chair, determination coursing through her veins. The rumors whispered of blood ties between this elusive client and the CEO. Perhaps the threads of destiny wove them together, entangling their fates in a tapestry of intrigue.

Her stomach grumbled—a reminder that even destiny couldn’t defy hunger. She strode to the kitchen, where her rice cooker awaited. Asian rice—her culinary signature—had won over her close friend’s taste buds. Each grain bore the essence of her Filipino-American heritage, a fusion of flavors that bridged continents.

As she rinsed the rice, memories surfaced—a sepia-toned reel of her mother. Tanned and perfect at five feet three inches, she embodied positivity and unwavering values. Her mother never scolded or raised her voice; instead, she whispered love and affection. Ashley longed for those gentle words now, yearning for guidance and answers.

Her father, a Tennessee native, was a bubble of exuberance. A kindred spirit with a penchant for travel, he’d met her mother during a missionary venture in the Philippines. Yet, financial constraints had barred Ashley from visiting her mother’s homeland or any other country. All she possessed was a faded photograph—a snapshot of her mother against the backdrop of Siargao, a name etched in her heart like a forgotten melody.

And so, armed with memories and a hunger for answers, Ashley stepped into the day—a heroine in her own narrative, ready to unravel the threads of destiny that awaited her at the penthouse.

The Granite Countertops stood like ancient monoliths, their cool surface awaiting the offerings of Ashley’s culinary alchemy. She had meticulously designed her kitchen—a symphony of white and black motifs—where creativity danced with practicality. The self-designed kitchen island, its contours echoing her vision, cradled her heavy meal.

Beef broccoli sizzled in a wok, its aroma weaving memories of bustling Asian markets. Pineapple slices, golden and succulent, awaited their turn—a tropical interlude in this urban tableau. And then there were the two cups of rice—steamed perfection, each grain a testament to her Filipino-American heritage. It wasn’t the typical American diet, but Ashley reveled in her Asian blood’s defiance of caloric arithmetic.

As she savored her creation, the countertop bore witness—their silent veins absorbing the essence of her culinary heritage. The kitchen island, a canvas for flavors, held stories of far-flung islands and ancestral whispers. Ashley’s mother, with her gentle hands and sun-kissed skin, seemed to guide her movements. Cook with love, her mother had whispered, and Ashley had taken those words to heart.

Now, nourished and fortified, Ashley stepped into the world beyond her kitchen. Her matte black Jaguar F-type awaited—a sleek beast with a growl that echoed her determination. The basement of her apartment building released her onto the rain-soaked streets. The heavens wept—a torrential downpour that blurred the cityscape, as if the sky itself grappled with indecision.

This is a strange day, Ashley murmured, her windshield wipers battling the deluge. The rain tapped out a melancholic rhythm—a rainfall sonata that played against the car’s metal skin. The Jaguar’s tires sliced through puddles, leaving ripples in their wake. The city lights, refracted by raindrops, danced like distant stars.

The penthouse loomed ahead—the seventeenth floor, where destiny awaited. The rumors whispered of familial ties, of threads woven across generations keep singing tune in her head. Ashley gripped the steering wheel, her pulse matching the rain’s tempo. The CEO’s kin—the elusive client—would soon reveal themselves. Perhaps they carried secrets etched in their DNA, stories that intersected with hers.

As the car ascended, Ashley wondered about her mother’s homeland—Siargao. The name resonated like a forgotten melody, a place she’d never seen but felt in her bones. Her father’s missionary work, the chance encounter that birthed her existence—it all converged in this moment.

Ashley stepped out, rain clinging to her like a second skin. The rainfall sonata continued, a backdrop to her footsteps. She squared her shoulders, ready to unravel the enigma that awaited her.

And so, in the heart of the storm, Ashley crossed the threshold—a heroine navigating the symphony of fate.

*    *    *

The rain-slicked streets of New York City welcomed Ashley as she glided into the office building—a sleek vessel navigating the urban tempest. The clock conspired in her favor, granting her timely arrival. Early risers bustled about,