Chapter 5: Claiming her Back

The private jet’s stairs touched the tarmac, and Maurice Mayer descended. At thirty-two, he didn't just walk; he commanded the air around him. His bespoke suit mapped a frame hardened by years of discipline, and his face, all sharp angles and cold, noble precision, drew every eye at the terminal. He wasn't the boy who had left ten years ago. He was a predator who had swallowed industries whole.

An entourage of bodyguards trailed him like shadows, one rushing to pull the door of a black Maybach.

Maurice stepped inside without a word. He was the youngest billionaire in the city. A Harvard prodigy who hadn't just expanded his family’s empire, he’d built his own from the wreckage of his competitors.

Two hours later, Maurice sat at the head of a mahogany boardroom table. He simply twirled a pen between his fingers while directors sweated through their presentations. His dark eyes absorbed every weakness in their plans.

When the meeting ended, he retreated to his office.

Moments later, the door opened. A young man, Martin Lowell, dressed impeccably, stepped in carrying a stack of neatly arranged files. His presence broke the stillness of the room, drawing Maurice’s attention from the screen.

Martin Lowell gently dropped a stack of files on the desk. Impeccably dressed and effortlessly calm, Martin was the only person who didn't flinch under Maurice’s gaze. They were more than friends; they were brothers forged in the fire of elite prep schools and kidnap attempts. Maurice had provided the power; Martin provided the loyalty.

Maurice didn't look up from his screen as he listened to Martin lay out his itinerary for the day. "Martin, you don't really have to be so formal?"

Martin smiled, calm as ever. “We are at work. It fits.”

"I could fire you if you keep that up you know."

"You wouldn't survive a week without me." Martin flipped open a leather planner, his tone shifting to business. "Marketing at nine. International partners at eleven. And the big one..." He paused, his voice dropping. "Your parents want you at the main house tonight."

Maurice’s fingers froze over the keyboard. His jaw hardened. “What now? Let me guess, the same old lecture about marrying Matilda? When are they actually going to leave me alone?”

“You may want to hear them out this time,” Martin said carefully.

Maurice shot him a sharp look.

Martin raised both hands in mock surrender. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I know you hate the idea of marriage, but the girl they picked this time isn’t so bad. You two went to school together. You’re friends... sort of. And she’s your mother’s best friend’s daughter. Compared to the last setup, I’d call this an upgrade.”

“Matilda is an acquaintance,” Maurice said coldly, his gaze returning to the screen. “Nothing more. And I am not interested in her, or ever getting married to her.”

Martin leaned against the desk, grin widening. “Then who exactly are you saving yourself for? Don’t tell me you plan to stay single forever. Wait, it's not possible you are interested in the opposite sex or are you?" Martin teased, clearly trying to ruffle his cool composure.

Maurice lifted one brow. “Go back to being formal, or you’re fired.”

His tone was dry and clipped, but Martin only laughed harder. Teasing Maurice had always been one of his favorite hobbies.

“Sometimes I wonder what you’re really afraid of,” Martin said, eyes gleaming. “Unless, of course, you’re secretly in love with someone.”

Maurice slowly tilted his head, his expression turning dangerous.

Martin cleared his throat. “Right. I should probably stop talking.”

“You should probably leave before you actually lose your job,” Maurice said coolly.

Martin gave a dramatic sigh, clutching the planner to his chest. “Well, that’s a shame. I was actually going to share some good news... about someone very dear to you. But since you’re so eager to get rid of me, I’ll just head back to my office. Can’t risk upsetting my extremely terrifying boss.”

He said as he headed for the door slowly and deliberate. He counted from one to five but when he got to three he heard Maurice voice. “One… two…” he began counting under his breath.

By the time he reached three, Maurice’s voice broke through the silence.

“Wait.”

A quiet, knowing smile curved Martin’s lips. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. He had known Maurice would stop him, he always did when it concerned her.

Because no one knew the truth, except Martin: the only person Maurice truly held close to his guarded heart was a name unspoken for years.

Mia.

“What’s going on with her?”

Maurice asked casually as he adjusted in his chair, but the casualness was just a mask. Beneath the polished oak table, his fist had curled so tight that his knuckles turned white. Anything that had to do with Mia always had this effect on him, it unsettled him, burned in his chest, and he couldn’t even explain why.

“Luke Rivers is planning a marriage alliance with the Fernandez family.”

Maurice’s head snapped up.

“What? Why? I thought they adored her, t-that they treated her like their own daughter. Why would they just give her away like that? She’s only a little girl!” His voice rose sharply, breaking through the calm front he tried to maintain.

Martin arched a brow, almost amused at his choice of words.

“Little girl? Maurice, your little girl already twenty, twenty-two even. A graduate. Independent. Doing well for herself. And don’t forget, Desmond Fernandez has been her longtime boyfriend. This isn’t random; this is most likely a carefully planned decision between both families. If you ask me, it’s the natural next step. Desmond probably proposed, and she said yes. Your ‘little girl’ isn’t so little anymore.”

The words cut like glass. Maurice’s chest tightened. He felt a wave of anger he couldn’t place, wild, raw, irrational.

“And that’s not even the juiciest part.” Martin leaned in, lowering his voice like he was about to drop forbidden gossip. “There’s a rumor, one I almost couldn’t believe myself. Apparently, Thomas Rivers, the only son of the Rivers family, has started... feeling things he shouldn’t for his ‘sister.’ Word is, he’s trying to convince his father to let him marry Mia instead. But Luke Rivers won’t budge. He needs the Fernandez alliance to save their company, and so, for him, Mia’s future is just another business transaction.”

“She’s not his sister!” Maurice’s voice cracked like a whip. His eyes burned with a ferocity Martin rarely saw, and for a second, even he went silent. He pressed his lips together. He knew it. No one_ absolutely no one_ could stir Maurice into losing his composure like Mia could.

Maurice was seething, his anger leaking from him like smoke from a simmering pot. Martin straightened, careful now, he didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire of Maurice’s storm.

“I can’t believe... I haven’t seen her for just a short while, and all of this has happened?” Maurice muttered, tugging violently at his tie like it was choking him.

“It’s been ten years, Maurice,” Martin said gently. “Not a short while.”

Maurice stilled, his chest rising and falling heavily. His next words came broken, almost unsure:

“Do I even... have the right to appear before her anymore?”

Martin didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

His answer was firm, absolute.

“You’ve always been there for her, even when she never knew it. You protected her from the shadows. You nearly gave your life for her once. If I started listing everything you’ve sacrificed for Mia, I’d be here all day. So yes, if anyone has the right to stand by her, it’s you.”

Maurice exhaled shakily and began pacing.

The polished, untouchable businessman was gone.

What stood in his place was a man torn open by years of silence, regret, and longing.

"When it comes to the people who raised her...” His voice faltered. “I don’t know if I still have a place.”

Martin’s gaze locked onto his. “She was yours to protect from the very beginning. Don’t forget that. She was taken from you.”

Maurice stopped.

Something fierce flashed across his face.

Then, slowly, his hesitation hardened into resolve.

“You’re right,” he said, voice low and burning. “Mia is mine, and I won’t stand by while they decide her future for her.”

Martin’s mouth curved into a satisfied smile. He had waited years to hear those words.

“Perfect! I’ve told you countless times, you should’ve confronted Nana Nancy long ago and reclaimed what was rightfully yours. But no, you insisted she was happy with them, and you chose to endure the pain in silence. Well... looks like reality has finally caught up with you.”

Maurice’s jaw tightened.

“Clear my schedule. Arrange a meeting with her. No excuses.”

Martin straightened instantly, all humor gone, slipping back into his professional skin.

“Right away, sir.” He gave a crisp nod before swiftly exiting the office.

The door closed, and silence fell. But inside, Maurice’s chest was a battlefield. His hands clenched, his breath uneven. After eight long years, he was finally going to see Mia again.

The thought sent a sharp ache through him. How would she look now? Twenty years old. A woman. No longer the little girl he had once held so close. He had avoided her all these years, not because he didn’t want to see her, but because every encounter had left him gutted, broken in ways he couldn’t bear.

Her eyes haunted him. Those cold blue eyes that once looked at him with nothing but disdain when she told him she didn’t like him. It was a rejection that had burned deep into his memory, one that time had never erased.

And yet, like a fool, he had kept showing up, always with gifts, always with cakes on her birthdays. Hoping. Dreaming and deceiving himself. But each time, he was met with the same cruel wall. Thomas standing guard, chasing him away like a stray dog who had no place near her.

He remembered those days too well, the sting of humiliation, the hollow disappointment. He would return home sick to his stomach, bedridden for days, all because of her. And yet... he still could never let go.

Now, after all the rejection, all the years of silence, he was about to face her again.

Maurice closed his eyes, inhaling sharply, as if bracing himself for war.

The thought of seeing Mia again didn't just make Maurice tense; it made him unravel.

For ten years, he had stayed away because he knew the truth: to Mia, he was non-existent. A shadow from a childhood she had long moved on from. The memory of her looking at him with hatred, and a crushing lack of recognition, was a scar that never healed.

He remembered every gift he brought, knowing she probably never opened them. He remembered the cakes Thomas had forced him to throw away, humiliating him and treating him like a stray dog standing at their gate. Every rejection broke something inside him. Sometimes the pain was so much that he would return home shattered, unable to get out of bed for days.

Eventually, Maurice had no choice but to face the bitter truth.

Mia had been completely shut out of his life, and she didn’t even know all he had done for her. He couldn’t bear going back to the Rivers house only to be mocked by Thomas again, and worse, to leave without even catching a glimpse of Mia.

So he stopped going.

But forgetting her was never an option.

Every year on her birthday, no matter where he was, he kept the same ritual. He would buy a cake, light the candles, and quietly wish her a happy birthday before blowing them out himself.

Even at the height of his success, flying between London, Paris, and Dubai, he never stopped.

He would stand alone with that cake, whisper a wish for a girl who didn’t even know he existed, and leave it untouched. He never took a bite. He would simply walk away, as if the untouched cake itself was a promise, a silent vow that he would never forget her, never stop holding on.

But that time was over now.

He was no longer the helpless boy showing up with gifts and hope in his hands.

He was a man now. A powerful one.

And this time, he was done standing at a distance.

It was time for Mia to come back into his life.

That was final.