Chapter 4

Maya’s POV

The coordination suite felt smaller with just the two of us in it. The harbor glittered beyond the glass like it was mocking us both, endless, indifferent, moving on without caring who drowned.

Selina didn’t bother with the soft, apologetic mask anymore. The moment Lila’s footsteps faded down the corridor, her shoulders relaxed, her chin lifted…

 That pretty, practiced vulnerability she’d worn like perfume vanished. In its place was something colder, sharper, something that had probably been there all along, waiting for permission to show its teeth.

She leaned back in the chair that used to be mine, fingers steepled, and looked at me the way someone appraises an employee who’s already been written off.

“Those quarterly compliance audits from Q1 through Q3,” she said, voice clipped and professional, as though we were strangers who’d never shared secrets over cheap wine in college dorms. “They’re a mess. I need them re-sorted, cross-referenced by port authority, and flagged for discrepancies. Paper copies. Digital backups. Everything color-coded. You can start now.”

I stood perfectly still.

Fifteen years.

Junior secondary when we were twelve and she cried because her parents forgot her birthday, I’d dragged her to the tuck shop and spent my entire week’s pocket money on cake and fizzy drinks. High school when boys noticed her first and I pretended it didn’t sting. University when we stayed up until dawn cramming for finals, promising each other we’d conquer the world side by side

All of it pretense?

I kept my face blank. Professional. The way I’d learned to look when board members tried to talk over me because I was “just the wife”

“I’ll need Lila to pull the physical files from archives,” I said evenly.

Selina’s lips curved, just a fraction. “Then call her.”

I pressed the intercom. “Lila? Can you come back in for a moment?”

Lila appeared almost instantly, eyes darting between us like she could feel the static in the air.

“Can you go to the archives room and pull out the files for the latest project we were handling,” I told her quietly. “Close the door behind you.”

She hesitated…. only for a heartbeat, then nodded and retreated. The soft click of the latch felt final.

Silence again.

I turned back to Selina. “Is this how it’s going to be?”

She tilted her head. “How what’s going to be?”

“You giving orders. Me fetching files. Like I’m your assistant instead of….” I stopped myself. The word partner tasted bitter now. “Instead of the person who built half this project.”

Selina laughed short, sharp, humorless. “You think this is about the project?”

The question caught me off guard.

She rose slowly, smoothing her blush-pink dress over hips that would soon round with his child. 

“I’ve watched you for fifteen years, Maya. Fifteen years of you having everything fall into place like it was scripted. The perfect family name. The perfect trust fund. The perfect arranged marriage to the most eligible bachelor in the country. The cars. The penthouses. The private jets.

 The designer everything. And me? Always the plus-one. The pretty friend who got invited because you felt generous.”

My throat closed

“You were never the plus-one,” I whispered. “You were my sister.”

“Spare me.” Her eyes flashed. “You had the life I was supposed to have. The one my parents promised me if I just worked hard enough, smiled pretty enough, stayed thin enough. But no matter how hard I tried, you were always one step ahead. Always the one they noticed. Always the one who ended up with the prince.”

She stepped closer, close enough that I could smell the jasmine she’d worn since we were teenagers.

“And now?” she continued, voice dropping to something almost tender. “Now I finally have something you can’t touch. Something you’ve wanted for eight years and never got. His baby. His attention. His future. And this position?” She gestured around the suite. “This is just the beginning. I’m not stealing scraps anymore, Maya. I’m taking what should have been mine all along”

The words landed like punches….each one heavier than the last.

All these years, the person I trusted most had been keeping score.

Jealous…

Resentful…

Waiting.

My chest ached so fiercely I almost couldn’t breathe.

“You envied me,” I said, barely above a whisper. “All this time… you envied me”

Selina’s smile was small and cruel. “Don’t act surprised. You’ve always known you had more than you deserved.”

I stared at her and saw the girl I’d loved slowly disappear behind the woman who’d decided my happiness was her theft

She turned away first, walking back to the desk and picking up a stack of folders. “Five hours,” she said without looking at me. “I want every audit sorted, flagged, and on my desk by end of day. Urgently. We have a board presentation tomorrow, and I won’t have loose ends.”

Five hours.

The task was deliberately humiliating, busywork meant to remind me of my new place. Filing clerk. Errand girl. Invisible.

I didn’t argue.

I simply nodded once, took the stack she thrust at me, and walked out.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a numb blur of paper and fluorescent light. I sorted. I cross-referenced. 

I color-coded tabs until my fingertips felt raw. Every staple I pressed felt like pressing down rage. Every file I labeled felt like labeling evidence.

By four-thirty, the stack was complete, neat, precise, impeccable….

I carried it to the executive floor myself.

Mason’s office door was ajar, the way it always was when he expected interruptions. I pushed it open without knocking.