Novel & Cerita The Rival Maisey Yates

“How should I address you, miss? What kind of deal are you talking about? I’m just a housewife who doesn’t have a job. My maiden family and my husband’s family don’t have social status, so I’m afraid I can’t help you.” The woman chuckled. “There’s no need to be modest, Ms. Yates. I did my homework before deciding to work with you. You have a problem with Mrs. York too, right? It so happens that I also have a grudge against her. Since we both have a common enemy, why not work together?”

I notice her lips twisting as if trying to find the most polite words to say to me. "I'm Vee," she said, finally extending her hand in a manner that said don't dare ignore my hand or I'll cut your balls. "Venera Rustik Yates." Her last name quickly registered, and her familiar face explained it. She had features like Viktor's, and her proud stance like her father. I had never gotten the chance to meet her at parties, and I think I could recall Viktor saying that he had a spoiled little sister who started a modeling career at the tender age of six who traveled around the world in her private plane for her projects. She was the daughter whom the Yates matriarch had died giving birth to. The Ya

I asked, intrigued. Charles’ eyes sparkled. “She commanded respect, Mom. They couldn’t bully us again.” But before he could continue, I interrupted, worried someone might overhear. “Shh, stop saying that. Don’t let anyone hear you,” I cautioned. Charles’ smile faltered. “But Mom, it’s true!” I firmly placed my hand on his shoulder. “Don’t repeat that, Charles. It’s not true.” “Mom, I’m not lying. Aunty Sibel is the Alpha Princess of the pack. She built the training camp; she owns it,” Charles insisted.

“Hello, hello, he said to me while Thelma was prompting me to answer him. I gave in after a few seconds of fear and doubt. Hi…uhm hello, I was stuttering. Whose is on the line please, he asked sharply. Oh sorry, it's Isabella. Your maid, Isabella. Thelma hit me for referring to myself as the maid. I don't know what she was expecting me to say. Would I have introduced myself to him as his girlfriend? Who wouldn't have his own girlfriend's number? Why doesn't he have my number all this while?

The head maid asked, noticing a girl behind him. "Yes, her name is Eve. She's from Mr Travis." Butch said with a smile before he continued. "He wants her to be one of the king's maid." Butch whispered, he doesn't want other people or the maids to hear him. King's maid?! Does he think it's easy to be the king's maid? The head maid asked. "And he wants me to take this one as the king's maid, take a look at her dressing." The head maid said, looking at Eve from head to toe.

Daisy was already screaming, completely unfiltered, while Corren and Merrick watched with composed satisfaction. “Look at that reception,” the second commentator said, laughing slightly. “She’s not just a player anymore. She’s a phenomenon.” Cassienne took her seat. Headset on. Hands steady. Then the screen shifted. Her opponent appeared. CODE NAME: VYRAX A female player. She's tall, with sharp features. Her hair pulled into a tight braid, her expression cold and unreadable. “She’s undefeated so far,” the commentator continued. “Three matches. Three wins. And both were good.”

His gaze darkened at that. Just then, a voice rang out. "Is this your boyfriend, Maisie?" Maisie looked up to see a young woman from another major. Her name was Gloria Goff. They'd met at a past event and had exchanged numbers. Gloria was pretty—she was the belle of the art faculty. She had many admirers, but she felt they were beneath her and unworthy of her attention. Now, however, she was staring at Sawyer with such interest and enthusiasm that Maisie was uncomfortable.

He was waiting for me, his son and prized competitor, to emerge after my 20-minute break and win the game, bringing him pride once again. Unfortunately, I didn't think victory would be possible tonight. Not when my arch-nemesis, Damario Bloodworth, the prince of the East and my opponent, was waiting for me in that room, holding the weight of my deepest secret in his hands. "Gods, this is a mistake. Turn around and walk away, Zayn. Act like it never happened. If you don't acknowledge it, it never existed." My subconscious mind screamed at me, frantically urging me not to enter that room.

"She’s running the styling for the whole team. She doesn't need anyone distracting her from her job." The air between the two of them went instantly cold. Carter didn't back down at all. He didn't look scared of the hockey captain. He just stepped slightly in front of me, meeting Killian’s angry stare with a calm, steady look. "I think that decision belongs to Maya, not to you, Yates," Carter replied, his voice perfectly level and quiet. "If she wants to go with me, she can." The two men locked eyes, neither one of them willing to look away or back down. The silence between them was deafening. It was a thick wall of rivalry that had been building up for months, and now it felt ready to snap.

The figure froze. She turned around slowly. It was the girl. Dark hair, a faint scar over her left eyebrow, dressed in the drab grey wool of a kitchen maid. But the way she held herself—perfectly balanced, her center of gravity low, her eyes scanning my stance for weaknesses—it screamed of relentless training. This was no ordinary maid. "The gates are barred," I said, taking a slow step forward, "The Manor is sealed. You have exactly ten seconds to tell me who sent you, or I’ll start breaking bones."