MayaI'd forgotten how much I hated Grandfather's study. The room felt like it was actively trying to swallow me—dark wood paneling soaking up what little sunlight filtered through heavy curtains, leather chairs too deep for my frame, bookshelves stuffed with volumes nobody had opened in decades. The air still had that perpetual smell of cigars even though I had never seen grandfather smoke."They've approached Whitcomb," Grandfather said, tossing a handwritten note across his massive desk. Not photographs. Not dramatic surveillance. Just his spidery handwriting on Russo Designs stationery showing the result of one phone call to a secretary who'd worked for him for thirty years and still treated him like God despite his "retirement."I picked it up, trying to focus on the words while my brain kept circling back to the same useless
"What leverage could they possibly have on Chen?" I asked, focusing on the immediate problem to avoid the bottomless pit of other thoughts waiting to swallow me. "She's been with Russo Designs for twenty years. She despises my father.""Well…they wouldn't approach her without ammunition," Grandfather said. "Your parents are opportunistic, not stupid."I stopped at the window, pushing the curtain aside to peer at the garden below. The rosebushes needed pruning. Grandfather was letting things slip. Another small sign of his decline he thought I hadn't noticed."Something about the foundation," I said finally. "That's what they've been focusing on.""The Henderson grant application," Olivia suggested, looking up from her laptop. "Your father's golfing buddy chairs th
"What leverage could they possibly have on Chen?" I asked, focusing on the immediate problem to avoid the bottomless pit of other thoughts waiting to swallow me. "She's been with Russo Designs for twenty years. She despises my father.""Well…they wouldn't approach her without ammunition," Grandfather said. "Your parents are opportunistic, not stupid."I stopped at the window, pushing the curtain aside to peer at the garden below. The rosebushes needed pruning. Grandfather was letting things slip. Another small sign of his decline he thought I hadn't noticed."Something about the foundation," I said finally. "That's what they've been focusing on.""The Henderson grant application," Olivia suggested, looking up from her laptop. "Your father's golfing buddy chairs th
Maya's POV I stared at the screen, my fingers digging into the worn fabric of the couch. The leather was cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the terrible heat rising in my chest. Three years of marriage, and this is what it had come to. There he was, my husband Daniel, his arm wrapped around Fiona's waist like she was his prized possession. The camera loved them, capturing every detail of their picture-perfect smiles. The studio lights gleamed off their teeth, their eyes, the jewelry adorning Fiona's neck. That was mine, she was flaunting my design as hers. I could still remember the day Daniel and I met. It was an arranged marriage, set up by our parents to unite our families. I had been so naive then, thinking love would naturally follow. How wrong I'd been. "I'm the luckiest man alive," Daniel gushed, his eyes never leaving Fiona. "To have this beautiful woman by my side." My stomach churned, a nauseating mix of anger and despair. The necklace glittering around
Maya's POV "Maya, what did you do?" Daniel's voice cut through the room, sharp and accusatory."Daniel, please, let me explain—" The words tumbled from my mouth, desperate and clumsy.But Daniel's eyes were fixed on Fiona, his hands roaming over her arms, her back, checking for injuries. "Are you hurt? Did she harm you?"Fiona pressed herself against him a little too much, her breasts heaving and bouncing with exaggerated sobs. The torn dress gaped open, leaving view of a soft tantalizing mound of flesh. I watched as Daniel's gaze flickered downward for a moment before he pulled her closer, enveloping her in his arms."It's okay, you're safe now," he murmured into her hair, his tone sickeningly gentle.I stood there, frozen, as Daniel comforted Fiona. The familiar ache of betrayal settled in my chest, heavy and cold.Finally, Daniel turned to me, his eyes hard. "Well? Are you going to explain yourself?"I swallowed hard. "I didn't do anything. Fiona, tell him—""Oh, Daniel," Fiona int
Maya's POV The silence that followed my outburst was deafening. I could almost hear the gears turning in their heads, processing what I'd just said. Then, all at once, the room exploded."Have you lost your mind?" My mother's shrill voice cut through the air like a knife. Her face, usually carefully composed, was contorted with rage. "After everything we've done for you?" My father's response was quieter, but no less cutting. "Ungrateful," he spat, his eyes cold and hard. "We gave you everything. A home, a family, a future. And this is how you repay us?" Their words hit me physically, each one chipping away at the resolve I'd built up. I opened my mouth to respond, but my mother wasn't finished. "You know what? Maybe we made a mistake bringing you back," she hissed. "Our real daughter wouldn't be this stupid, this selfish." I flinched, her words cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. Real daughter. As if I was some cheap imitation, a knockoff they'd accidentally brought home. "If
Maya's POV The room buzzed with murmurs as Fiona stumbled through her explanation. From the corner of my eye, I saw my parents exchanging worried glances. My mother's perfectly manicured nails dug into my father's arm as she whispered urgently in his ear. A moment later, they were at my side. "Maya," my father hissed, his breath hot against my ear. "Get up there and help her. Now." I shook my head, a small act of defiance that sent a thrill through me. "No. This is her moment, isn't it? Let her handle it." My mother's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't be stupid, girl. Do you want your precious adoptive mother to suffer?"My blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?""It would be such a shame if we couldn't afford her medical bills anymore," my father said, his voice dripping with false concern. "After all, quality care is so expensive these days."The threat hung in the air between us, as tangible as the pearls around my mother's neck. I swallowed hard, memories of my adoptive m
Maya's POV "Yes, my wife. Is there a problem with that, Mr. Thorne?" Alex's smile turned casual, almost playful, but his eyes remained sharp. "No problem at all. I just... might have thought differently." Daniel's jaw clenched, and I could feel the anger radiating off him. "If you'll excuse us," he said, his voice tight. "We're needed inside." As he began to steer me away, Alex spoke up again. "Before you go, I must say, Mr. Russo, you're a lucky man." His voice was warm, but his eyes never left mine. "Your wife is not only beautiful but incredibly knowledgeable. A rare combination." Daniel's laugh was just a touch too loud, too forced. "Oh, I know how fortunate I am," he said, pulling me closer. "Maya is... one of a kind." I could feel Daniel's fingers digging into my side, a silent warning. Play along, they seemed to say. "We're very much in love," I heard myself say, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "Aren't we, darling?" Daniel's smile was all teeth. "Absolutely besot
"What leverage could they possibly have on Chen?" I asked, focusing on the immediate problem to avoid the bottomless pit of other thoughts waiting to swallow me. "She's been with Russo Designs for twenty years. She despises my father.""Well…they wouldn't approach her without ammunition," Grandfather said. "Your parents are opportunistic, not stupid."I stopped at the window, pushing the curtain aside to peer at the garden below. The rosebushes needed pruning. Grandfather was letting things slip. Another small sign of his decline he thought I hadn't noticed."Something about the foundation," I said finally. "That's what they've been focusing on.""The Henderson grant application," Olivia suggested, looking up from her laptop. "Your father's golfing buddy chairs th
"What leverage could they possibly have on Chen?" I asked, focusing on the immediate problem to avoid the bottomless pit of other thoughts waiting to swallow me. "She's been with Russo Designs for twenty years. She despises my father.""Well…they wouldn't approach her without ammunition," Grandfather said. "Your parents are opportunistic, not stupid."I stopped at the window, pushing the curtain aside to peer at the garden below. The rosebushes needed pruning. Grandfather was letting things slip. Another small sign of his decline he thought I hadn't noticed."Something about the foundation," I said finally. "That's what they've been focusing on.""The Henderson grant application," Olivia suggested, looking up from her laptop. "Your father's golfing buddy chairs th
MayaI'd forgotten how much I hated Grandfather's study. The room felt like it was actively trying to swallow me—dark wood paneling soaking up what little sunlight filtered through heavy curtains, leather chairs too deep for my frame, bookshelves stuffed with volumes nobody had opened in decades. The air still had that perpetual smell of cigars even though I had never seen grandfather smoke."They've approached Whitcomb," Grandfather said, tossing a handwritten note across his massive desk. Not photographs. Not dramatic surveillance. Just his spidery handwriting on Russo Designs stationery showing the result of one phone call to a secretary who'd worked for him for thirty years and still treated him like God despite his "retirement."I picked it up, trying to focus on the words while my brain kept circling back to the same useless
AlexThe elevator doors closed, cutting off the sound of Maya's apartment door slamming behind me. I jabbed the lobby button, watching the numbers descend while her words echoed: "You're obsessed. Mr. I-Still-Carry-The-Bracelet."She knew exactly where to strike. The bracelet wasn't just some keepsake. It was the one tangible connection to a past we both shared. The proof that we'd been connected long before any of this. And now she'd just turned it into something shameful, like the fact that it mattered to me was a deficiency.The doorman nodded as I passed through the lobby. I pushed past him without acknowledgment, the cold night air hitting my face as I started walking. No destination. I just wanted to go away.One minute we were talking about her parents, and the next she was treating me like I was trying to control her entire life. Hated it she compared me to Daniel. That comparison stung more than the bracelet comment. All that, for just trying to help. Was that overstepping? W
I watched as Robert questioned Maya's professional judgment, his voice carrying that familiar patronizing tone. And then—"You'd really destroy your own daughter's work?" Thorne interjected, addressing her parents directly. "To protect a lie?"Caroline Kingston's face hardened. "Mr. Thorne, with all due respect, you weren't invited to this dinner.""No, but I was invited by Maya. And since we're speaking of reputations, perhaps we should discuss how it would look if the industry discovered that the Kingstons deliberately left their daughter in the mountains for over a decade for business purposes."The blood rushed to my face. Who the fuck did he think he was? Playing white knight when he knew nothing about her, nothing about what she needed, nothing about what we'd built together.Then Maya's voice cut through clearly: "Alex is family. The family I've chosen."Something hot and tight constricted in my chest. I stared at the screen, at her hand covering his on the table. An intimate g
DanielI studied our wedding photo as I waited. It was the only personal item they'd allowed me to keep after the "incident" with Dr. Levinson. The frame had a small scratch across the glass now—probably deliberate, another of their petty humiliations. Like the facility uniform that hung loose on my frame, the scheduled bed checks, the constant surveillance. As if I were some common patient.Maya looked perfect that day. I'd selected her dress myself—ivory silk that caught the light exactly right. The photographer had needed minimal direction; Maya had already learned to present herself properly by then. The work I'd put into refining her had paid off. Sometimes I wondered if she remembered that—how much better she was because of me.The door opened without a knock. Basic courtesy, another casualty of this place."Medication time, Mr. Russo." Kevin stood in the doorway, rumpled uniform and mediocre posture. The man was a walking collection of weaknesses—betting slips visible in his br
Every ten minutes, I checked my phone. Like clockwork. Like an addict. Each time expecting something that wasn't there."You're going to wear out your screen," Olivia said, not looking up from the spreadsheets spread across my kitchen counter. Her voice was casual, but I caught the sidelong glance.I set the phone down. Picked up a grant proposal. Put it down again. Checked the time: 10:42 AM. Eleven hours and twenty-six minutes since Alex had walked out my door."The Henderson committee needs the revised budget by Thursday," Olivia said, sliding a spreadsheet toward me. "And we should prepare counterarguments for the 'concerns' your parents have been spreading.""What exactly are they saying?" I asked, scanning the numbers without really seeing them. My thumb twitched toward my phone again. I curled it into my palm."That you're emotionally unstable after leaving Daniel. That the foundation is just a vendetta against established design houses." Olivia's pen tapped against her legal p
I grabbed my phone before my eyes were fully open, fingers finding it automatically in the dark. The screen lit up, momentarily blinding me.No missed calls. No texts. Nothing.Something heavy settled in my chest as I refreshed the screen. Still empty. I checked the time—7:32 AM. Not that early. Not anymore.I slipped the phone under my pillow, then immediately pulled it out again to check the ringer was on. Full volume. Full brightness. No way to miss a call or text if—when—it came.He'd said he would call today. Today had twenty-four hours in it. This was only the first of them.I dragged myself to the bathroom, wincing at my reflection. Mascara smudged in raccoon circles. Hair matted on one side, wild on
Troy's mouth fell open. "You did not." He stared at me for a beat. “You didn't, right?” He searched my face for answers, before disappointment clouded his face."You had to go that low?" Troy pressed his palms against his eyes. "Jesus.""I didn't—" I started to defend myself."Shut up." Troy cut me off, his words slightly slurred. "What happened after?"I paced the kitchen, my thoughts still tangled. "He left. Said he needed space.""Can't blame him." Troy slumped deeper into the couch. "So that's why you texted? Because he left?""Because—" I stopped, struggling to articulate what had driven me to reach for my phone. "I don't know why I texted. I was drunk