Chapter 7

Maya's POV

My head was pounding.

Like it had been run over by a truck.

Fuck.

What happened last night?

Where was I?

Suddenly, images of last night came rushing to me like a bullet.

Holy… shit…

I called him my daddy. I flirted with him in front of his family. I told him to kiss me. Him—the blue-eyed asshole, Zakhar. And I was in a fucking room, in his goddamn house. Shit.

Okay, calm down, Maya.

With that, I breathed in, then out, and started to scan my environment.

I was in a spacious and elegant room with dark wooden furniture, cream walls, and soft afternoon light filtering through the heavy curtains. Nothing particularly intimate, just neutral.

At least, that was one less thing to freak out about.

I looked down at myself.

My dress was still on.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

Okay. Good.

But where are my other belongings, though?

Then I saw them. My shoes were neatly placed beside the bed, while my purse and phone sat on the nightstand.

I grabbed it and checked the time.

1:40 p.m.

My eyes widened.

Well, shit.

It was already afternoon, I guess I slept longer than I had expected.

I had to get out of here, and fast.

I scrambled out of bed, grabbed my shoes in one hand and purse, with my phone already inside it, in the other, then hurriedly but quietly shut the door behind me.

I tiptoed down the hallway, clutching my shoes against my chest.

Only one problem.

I had absolutely no idea where I was going, and the last thing I needed was to run into Zakhar.

I turned left, then right, trying to find my way out, but every hallway looked the same, with warm ivory walls, dark wooden doors lining both sides, and elegant gold-framed artwork and expensive-looking decorations scattered throughout. At this point, this place was a castle, or rather, a maze.

I turned left, then right, then left again, until it was official.

I was utterly lost.

“What do I do now?” I muttered to myself, looking for an exit.

I glanced down the hallway.

Nothing.

I turned around, determined to retrace my steps, but after three turns, I couldn't even remember which direction I'd come from. I just kept passing painting after painting.

These people were crazy. Why so many hallways?

Then I heard footsteps.

I froze.

They were coming from somewhere behind me.

What do I do?

Where do I hide?

Wait, why am I running? I could totally kick this guy's ass.

Please, don't be the blue-eyed asshole.

Please, don't be him.

I pleaded inwardly as I slowly turned around, only to see that it wasn't him.

I sighed in relief.

It was a guy with messy, chestnut-brown hair, sharp features, and warm brown eyes. He was tall and lean, with a full sleeve of tattoos on one arm, carrying himself with an easy confidence. He looked around my age, and he wore a grin that made him look effortlessly charming.

“Hey. You’re finally awake.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“We've met before, actually. Well, not technically. You were drunk, and we were singing together.”

Oh… now I remember him.

“I'm Ilya, by the way,” he said.

“Maya.”

“So Maya, are you dating my brother or something?” he asked, clearly nosy.

I almost choked on my saliva.

“Fuck no. He is a caveman with zero personality. Besides, he's way older than me, and I don’t do sugar daddies. Especially not him. He's not my type.”

Ilya laughed.

“Well, if you're interested, then be my guest.”

“I'll pass.”

“Is that so?”

Zakhar appeared behind us, hands tucked into his pockets. He looked annoyingly good in a black suit, with an expression that suggested he was pissed off at the entire world.

His gaze shifted from me to Ilya, then back to me. His expression was unreadable, but there was something about the way those blue eyes looked me over that made me feel weird in a way I couldn't quite explain.

“Speak of the devil,” Ilya greeted, completely unfazed.

“What are you doing here?” Zakhar asked.

Ilya shrugged. “Talking to Maya.”

Zakhar's eyes shifted to me.

I raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“How's the hangover?” He smirked.

I gave him the middle finger.

But he just turned around, leaving me there.

Asshole.

Ilya chuckled. “Come on. You look like you have no idea where you're going.”

I happily followed him down the stairs and spotted the exit just a short distance away.

Finally…

Just as I was about to step outside, a soft voice stopped me.

“Do you want to eat anything before you leave?”

I turned to see the prettiest woman I'd ever seen, with long strawberry-blond hair and emerald-green eyes, dressed in a short, expensive-looking dress.

She greeted me with a warm smile that reminded me of my mum.

“No, thank you, ma'am. I really need to get going,” I said, smiling apologetically.

Her smile grew even brighter. “No problem, honey. Maybe next time then.”

I smiled, trying not to think too much about what she said.

“Do you want anyone taking you home?”

“Don't worry about that, I'm fine.”

“Have a great day, honey,” she said

before turning back toward the kitchen.

“You too, ma’am,” I said before shutting the door.

I stepped outside and let out a quiet breath.

I started walking toward the street, the afternoon breeze brushing against my face as I headed home.

When I felt my phone start to vibrate inside my purse, I unlocked it to see it was Trina.

I was too banged up to answer, so I let it ring. But she called again.

Ughh.

I answered, and she immediately started yelling.

“Where the fuck have you been? You’ve got some nerve disappearing like that without telling me. I’ve been calling you nonstop, and you couldn’t even pick up your damn phone! Where are you, and why didn't you come to work?”

I had to move the phone away from my ear to save my eardrums.

“Jesus Christ, woman, I went out yesterday, and now I'm sick.”

“Oh, no you don't, missy,” she said, already knowing where I was going with this.

“You've gotta help me out here. I'm all gloopy and stuff.”

“Today was supposed to be Sophie's day off. I can't do that to her.”

“Please Trini. I promise it's just for today.”

“You’ll work full-time with no day off for two weeks.”

“A week.”

“You are in no condition to bargain with me right now,” she snapped.

“One week, Trina, I won't even give you shit for the whole week. I'm like the daughter you never had, remember?” I pleaded.

“I already have a daughter, and she's doing great, with two kids, by the way,” she said.

“Okay, fine. Think of me as the unwanted daughter.”

“Fine. Deal.”

“Okay, I take that back, I love giving you shit.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, you little brat? Just wait till you come tomorrow, I'm gonna—”

I ended the call, feeling satisfied, and headed home.

By the time I reached my apartment, my feet were already aching.

But I wasn't done yet. I had more important things to deal with.

I hurried into the bathroom and took a quick shower, the water still cold.

Once I was done, I quickly dried off, threw on a hoodie and combat pants, and slipped a pocket knife into my pocket.

Time to get to work.

A dark smirk spread across my face.