LOGINOnce Ethan and Maya stepped outside, the cool night air felt like a quiet escape. The Moretti mansion glowed behind them, its tall windows spilling golden light across the driveway. The driver hurried to bring their car around, the hum of the engine breaking the silence that had followed them since leaving the hall.Ethan opened the door for Maya, his movements gentle, the kind that didn’t need to be rehearsed. She gave him a small nod of thanks before slipping inside. He rounded to the other side and slid in beside her.“To Ms. Sullivan’s residence,” Ethan told the driver. The man nodded, easing the car into motion.For a while, neither spoke. The city lights stretched in ribbons outside the window, reflections sliding across Maya’s face. Her hands rested quietly in her lap, fingers locked together.“Maya,” Ethan said finally, his tone soft but careful, “you look sad. Like someone said something they shouldn’t have.”She turned her head toward him, managing a smile. “I’m fine, Ethan.
The night unfolded in layers of elegance and tension. The Moretti estate glowed brighter than ever, its marble halls alive with the murmur of guests, the soft clink of champagne glasses, and the faint hum of a live orchestra tucked beneath the grand staircase. Every crystal shimmered, every petal of the floral arrangements was perfectly placed.To anyone outside the families’ inner circle, it was a flawless display of wealth and control.To those within it, it was a night pulsing with unspoken agendas.Leo positioned himself near the front, his wheelchair angled just off-center—close enough to see everything, but distant enough to be overlooked when convenient. His black suit was crisp, the D’Angelo crest embroidered subtly on his pocket square. He looked calm, but Luca, standing quietly beside him, saw the tension behind that practiced composure.“Luca,” Leo said quietly, eyes fixed on the crowd. “I want to know everything about that guy. Who he is to her, and why he’s here.”“I alre
The day of the engagement arrived.The Moretti estate glittered beneath the glow of chandeliers and gold leaf. The grand hall shimmered with precision, music floating softly through the air, laughter chiming like crystal. Guests moved in elegant swirls of silk and tailored suits, the rhythm of wealth and influence on full display.Every detail was perfect. Every movement rehearsed. Every smile, deliberate.From his position near the front, Leo D’Angelo sat in his wheelchair, silent and observant. The noise around him blurred into a distant hum.He wasn’t looking at the decorations, or the guests, or even his father, he was waiting.And then he saw her.Maya.She entered beside Ethan Cross, the sapphire gown flowing around her like liquid night. Simple, understated, and devastatingly elegant. The soft lighting caught the fabric with each step, painting her in shades of confidence she hadn’t worn before.Valentina was the first to greet her, radiant in silver, her smile polished and sha
The sharp knock came at precisely four-thirty.Maya froze, her pen hovering over the papers spread across her desk. She hadn’t been expecting anyone—not today, not after the invitation. Could it be Ethan? Her heart stuttered once. But no one else should know where she lived.She rose quietly and approached the door, peering through the peephole.Valentina Moretti.Impeccably dressed in white and gold, her posture poised, every gesture refined. Even standing in the narrow hallway, Valentina carried the same effortless dominance she had inside the D’Angelo mansion. Wealth. Power. Control. All wrapped in flawless composure.Maya’s breath caught. She stepped back instinctively, her hand tightening on the lock.“Who’s there?” she asked cautiously, forcing her voice steady. “Can I help you?”Valentina’s reply was smooth, almost gentle.“Maya… It’s Valentina. May I come in? I’m not here to fight, or cause trouble. I just want to talk.”The calm tone only made Maya more uneasy. “How does she
Maya hadn’t planned to think about the D’Angelo mansion that morning.She was buried in paperwork—coordinating her father’s treatments, balancing phone calls with doctors, and preparing for her first day back at school. The air smelled faintly of coffee and printer ink, a sign of her new, ordinary life.Yet every time her thoughts wandered, they pulled her back—back to the echo of those grand halls, the way sunlight used to spill through the glass corridors, the quiet moments when Leo’s voice would break through the silence.She told herself it was just memory. But memory had its own gravity.Her phone buzzed again—an unknown number. She frowned, wiped her hands, and opened the message.A single image appeared: the Moretti estate, lavishly decorated for an event. Beneath it, a line of text.You’re still part of this story whether you like it or not.For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to that glowing screen.Maya’s hand trembled slightly. It was a sharp and deliberate reminder th
The week passed quietly, the kind of quiet Maya hadn’t felt in a long time.Her mornings were simple again — sunlight through half-open blinds, the scent of coffee, and a city waking outside her window. No guarded stares, no tension humming beneath the air, no mansion walls closing in.Her life had downsized, but in the best way.She had her routines back.She usually visited her father at the hospital before his therapy sessions, helped him practice simple stretches, and stayed long enough to make him laugh before she left. Then she’d spend her afternoons reviewing her textbooks or filling out enrollment forms.The envelope from St. Alden College sat open on her table that morning — Application Confirmed: Bachelor of Science in Physiotherapy (Part-Time).She ran her fingers over the letter, the paper smooth beneath her skin. It felt like more than approval; it felt like permission to start living again.Her phone buzzed. Ethan.Hey, coffee after your hospital visit? I promise no busi







