CHAPTER 6: DANGEROUS GAME

Maya

The cab ride back to my apartment is quiet. The driver keeps glancing at me in the rearview mirror, probably wondering why a woman in a red silk dress is sitting in the back seat with tears streaming down her face. I don’t bother wiping them away, I let him think whatever he wants.

When we pull up to my building, I hand him a twenty without waiting for the fare, then practically fall out of the car. The door to the lobby is locked, of course it is, it’s almost midnight—but I manage to get my key in the lock on the third try, my hands still shaking.

I’m halfway up the stairs when my phone buzzes in my dress pocket. Chloe: u home yet??? I've been texting u for an hour. I'm outside ur building with chinese food and tequila.

I push open the door to my floor to find her sitting on the hallway carpet, a paper bag in one hand and a bottle of silver tequila in the other. She’s still in her party dress. It’s short, black, covered in sequins that catch the light from the hallway fixture.

“I knew you’d need this,” she says, pushing herself to her feet. “I got your favorite…kung pao chicken with extra peanuts. And I brought salt and limes, because we’re doing this right.”

I don’t say anything—just throw my arms around her and start crying again, hard enough that my shoulders shake. She holds me tight, rubbing circles on my back like she did when we were in college and I’d just gotten dumped by my first real boyfriend.

“Okay, okay,” she says, leading me into my apartment and kicking the door shut behind us. “Let’s get you out of that dress and into something comfortable. Then we’re getting drunk and you’re going to tell me everything.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m in sweatpants and an old college t-shirt, sitting on my couch with a plate of food in my lap and a glass of tequila in my hand. Chloe’s sitting cross-legged across from me, her hair piled on top of her head, already halfway through her second drink.

“Start talking,” she says, pointing her fork at me. “And don’t leave anything out. Did you punch him? Did you tell your mom off? Did the twin brother ask you to run away with him?”

I take a long sip of tequila, it burns going down, but it clears my head a little. “No punching. No running away. But I found out some things.”

I tell her everything…about how Philip said he didn’t start seeing my mom until after the divorce, about how Ethan said they’d been friends first, about the way Philip looked at me when we were standing by the window. I even tell her about the note Ethan slipped me, though I leave out the part about his fingers brushing mine, about the way his breath felt warm against my ear.

Chloe listens quietly, her expression serious. When I finish talking, she takes a sip of her drink and shakes her head.

“So what are you going to do?” she asks. “Are you going to give him a chance? Try to get to know him?”

I laugh, but it comes out bitter. “Give him a chance? He’s engaged to my mom, Chloe. Even if he didn’t break up my parents, he’s still going to be my stepdad if they get married. I can’t just… forgive him.”

“Maybe not. But you don’t have to hate him either.” She leans forward, setting her glass on the coffee table. “What do you really want to do?”

I think about it—about the way my mom looked tonight, happy and bright in a way I haven’t seen in years. About the way my dad sounded last time I talked to him, tired and sad and pretending everything was fine. About Philip; his steady eyes, his calm voice, the way his hand almost touched my arm.

“I want him gone,” I say, the words coming out clear and sharp. “I want him out of her life so she’ll realize what she’s lost. So she’ll go back to Dad.”

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “And how exactly do you plan to do that? You can’t just walk up to her and say ‘Mom, break up with your fiancé…he’s bad news.’ She won’t listen to you.”

“I know.” I take another sip of tequila, my mind already racing. “But what if I can make him leave her? What if I can make him want me instead?”

Chloe’s eyes go wide. “Maya… are you serious? That’s insane. He’s twice your age, he’s engaged to your mom—”

“He’s human.” I set my glass down, leaning back against the couch. “Everyone has weaknesses. Everyone makes mistakes. If I can get close to him, like, really close. Then I can make him choose me. And when my mom finds out, she’ll hate him. She’ll go back to Dad, and everything will be the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Everything won’t be the way it’s supposed to be,” Chloe says, her voice firm. “You’ll get hurt. Your mom will get hurt. Your dad will get hurt. This is a terrible idea.”

“Maybe. But it’s the only idea I’ve got.” I stand up, walking to my bedroom and pulling the red dress out of the closet. I hold it up against myself, looking at my reflection in the mirror…angry and determined, ready to play a game I know I might not win. “He ruined my family. Now I’m going to ruin his engagement.”

Chloe opens her mouth to argue, but my phone vibrates on the coffee table—three times in quick succession. I walk back to pick it up, my heart sinking when I see the sender: Admissions Office – Davenport Innovations Internship Program.

I’d applied for the marketing internship months ago, back when I still thought my life was going to be normal—graduate school, a good job, maybe even marry Noah someday. I’d forgotten all about it.

I tap the email open, my hands starting to shake again as I read the words on the screen:

Subject: CONGRATULATIONS- YOUR INTERNSHIP PLACEMENT

Dear Maya Wilson,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for the Summer 2026 Marketing Internship at Apex Industries, a division of Davenport Innovations.

Your placement has been approved by our CEO, Philip Davenport, who has requested that you be assigned to the Executive Marketing Team.

Please report to our headquarters at 8:00 AM on Monday morning for orientation.

We look forward to welcoming you to the team.

Sincerely,

Human Resources Department

Davenport Innovations

I drop the phone on the couch like it’s burned me. Chloe leans over to read the screen, her face going pale.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Maya…what are you going to do?”

I look from the email on the screen to the red dress in my hand, a dangerous smile spreading across my face.