CHAPTER 3

As I stared at Mason’s picture on the billboard, my mind drifted back to the first time we met. That summer in LA, I had taken a hotel cleaning job while visiting my Aunt Mel.

I was pushing the cleaning cart after finishing my rounds, my hands hurting like hell, when the elevator dinged. He stepped out and made a remark about my slow work pace. I snapped and told him he was probably just a rich brat living off his dad’s money who had never worked a day in his life.

Mason had chuckled instead of getting offended.

The next morning I arrived at work to find a small box of chocolates sitting on my cleaning cart with a note that simply said: Sorry for being an ass.

That was the beginning of some of the most cherished moments of my life.

Now, six years later, he was in the same city as me.

A small spark of hope rose inside me. This could be the only real chance left to save Lior’s life.

My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone and searched for information about the Hayes Hotel opening. I was afraid nothing would come up, that the name on the billboard had been nothing more than a cruel coincidence.

But then the results appeared on the screen, and a small breath escaped my lips.

The grand opening was happening this morning, only a few hours from now. I checked the address and saw it was thirty minutes away.

I quickly started the engine and drove.

I knew there was a chance Mason wouldn’t even want to see me.

Years ago, I had disappeared from his life without a word. I had lied about who I was, changed my name, and walked away the moment the summer ended. If he hated me for that, he had every right to.

But Lior’s life mattered more than whatever his reaction might be.

When I finally arrived at the hotel, the sky was still dark. Staff members were moving around the entrance preparing for the ceremony, arranging decorations and adjusting barriers for the event.

I waited inside the car.

My hands rested on the steering wheel as I tried to rehearse what I was going to say, but nothing came to mind.

How exactly do you tell someone they have a child they never knew existed?

After several attempts, I gave up. I would just say it however it came out.

I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, letting the silence of the car surround me as the night slowly faded into dawn. By the time the sky began to brighten, the area around the hotel had completely transformed.

Luxury cars started pulling up one after another, dropping off guests dressed in tailored suits and glittering gowns. Soon after, journalists arrived with cameras and microphones, their voices mixing with the growing buzz of excitement around the entrance.

Watching them made me painfully aware that I didn’t belong here.

How was I going to get inside?

I glanced down at my worn clothes and caught sight of my reflection in the car window: tired eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, and hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed properly in days.

No wonder the security guards stared when I finally stepped out of the car and approached the entrance.

“Invitation?” one of them asked immediately.

“I… I don’t have one,” I admitted.

His expression hardened almost instantly.

“This event is invitation only.”

“I understand,” I said quickly. “But I really need to speak with Mason Hayes. He would want to see me.”

Both guards exchanged a look.

The taller one glanced over my appearance.

“You need to leave.”

“Please,” I tried again. “It’s important.”

“Ma’am, step away from the entrance.”

I hesitated before stepping back, but I didn’t leave.

Instead, I lingered near the edge of the crowd, my heart pounding harder with every passing minute.

Then suddenly the atmosphere shifted.

More photographers rushed toward the entrance, raising their cameras as murmurs spread through the gathered crowd.

“He’s here.”

A black car pulled up in front of the hotel, and the moment the door opened, the cameras exploded with flashes.

Mason stepped out.

He looked older now, but there was no mistaking him. It was still Mason.

The same man who had once made me forget the kind of life I came from.

Photographers crowded around him as security cleared a path while he walked toward the entrance. I knew it was now or never.

I pushed through the crowd and ran toward him.

“Mason!”

My voice cut through the noise of reporters and flashing cameras.

Security reacted immediately.

Two guards grabbed my arms before I could reach him.

“Let go of me!” I cried, struggling against their grip. “I need to talk to him!”

They began dragging me away.

“Mason!”

Then everything went still.

“Let her go.”

The command rang out, silencing everyone.

The guards froze in surprise and turned toward Mason.

Mason had turned around, his gaze fixed directly on me.

“Let her go,” he repeated.

They released me immediately.

I stumbled forward slightly, breathing hard from the struggle as I tried to steady myself.

“I need your help,” I said, my voice trembling.

Whispers spread through the crowd behind us, cameras still flashing as people tried to figure out what was happening.

Mason studied me for a long moment, his expression impossible to read.

Then he turned slightly.

“Follow me.”

The murmuring behind us grew louder as he led me inside the hotel and down a quiet hallway away from the crowd.

He pushed open the door to a conference room and stepped inside. Once the door closed behind us, the noise of the event disappeared completely.

“Sit.”

He gestured toward the chair across from him.

I lowered myself into the seat, my hands clasped tightly together in my lap.

For a moment neither of us spoke.

His eyes lingered on my face, studying me quietly.

I had imagined meeting Mason again more times than I could count. In every version, the moment had looked different.

Finally he spoke. “What do you want from me?”

His voice was calm, but the distance in it stung.

Then he added quietly, “Daisy.”

The name hit me like a blow.

Mason tilted his head slightly. “Is that even your real name?”

“No,” I said quietly. “It’s Mia.”

He repeated it softly.

“Mia.”

Then his eyes lifted back to mine.

“What do you want from me, Mia?”

My hands clenched tighter in my lap.

“I need three hundred thousand dollars.”

His eyebrows drew together slightly. “For what?”

Suddenly I lost my voice. I feared what his reaction would be. What if he tried to take Lior away once he knew the truth?

But none of that mattered if my son didn’t survive.

I opened my mouth to tell him the truth, but before the words could leave my lips, he glanced down at his watch. Then reached into his pocket, pulled out a pen and a small sheet of paper, and wrote something quickly.

“People are waiting for me.”

He slid the paper across the table.

“That’s my personal address. Stop by tonight around eight. We’ll talk about whatever this is then.”

I nodded, gripping the paper tightly in my hands.

“Thank you.”

I stood and walked toward the door.

“Dai… Mia.”

His voice stopped me. When I turned back, his gaze was steady.

“I thought I meant something to you the way you meant something to me. You didn’t have to play me the way you did.”

The words pierced my soul.

I closed my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

It was the only answer I had.