CHAPTER 22

The weight of Helena’s threat lingered in Maya’s mind long after their conversation. Each step she took through the grand Moretti estate felt heavier, her resolve to stay strong warring with the gnawing fear that her father’s secrets could come to light at any moment.

Maya paced Zane’s suite that evening, her thoughts racing. The opulent surroundings, with their marble floors and crystal chandeliers, seemed more like a gilded cage than a sanctuary. Every corner of this life felt like a stage where Helena, Luca, and Isabella played their roles to perfection—scheming, manipulating, and undermining her at every turn.

She couldn’t afford to be a passive spectator anymore.

The following morning, Maya awoke to find Zane already gone, leaving only a brief note on the nightstand:

“Gone to the city for a meeting. Alex is nearby if you need anything. Stay vigilant.”

The absence of his commanding presence made her feel exposed, as though the walls of the estate had grown teeth. Determined not to let her fear consume her, she decided to distract herself by exploring parts of the estate she hadn’t yet ventured into.

As she wandered through the eastern wing, her footsteps brought her to a small, forgotten door. The wood was faded, its surface marked by scratches, and the brass doorknob felt cold under her hand.

Curiosity pushed her forward. She turned the knob, and the door creaked open to reveal a dimly lit room filled with old furniture, dusty trunks, and stacks of papers.

Maya moved cautiously, brushing away cobwebs as she approached a desk in the center of the room. Its drawers were slightly ajar, their contents spilling out as though someone had been rifling through them in a hurry.

Her fingers grazed over a stack of yellowed papers. Among them was a photograph that made her breath hitch.

It was an image of Zane as a young man, standing with a strikingly beautiful woman who bore an unsettling resemblance to Maya.

“Cocona,” Maya whispered, her fingers trembling as she traced the outline of the woman’s face.

The resemblance wasn’t just physical—it was uncanny. From the curve of her lips to the intense gaze in her eyes, Cocona could have been Maya’s twin.

Beside the photograph was a letter, its handwriting bold and elegant:

“Zane, I warned you. Cocona was a liability. She should have stayed out of family matters. Now, look at what’s happened.”

Maya’s stomach churned as she absorbed the words. This wasn’t just a tragic story from Zane’s past—it was a cautionary tale. And the parallels to her own situation were impossible to ignore.

Maya hurried out of the room, the photograph and letter tucked tightly in her hand. She needed answers, but Zane wasn’t here, and confronting Helena felt like walking into a lion’s den.

She made her way to the garden, hoping the fresh air would help clear her head. Instead, she found Luca waiting near the fountain, his posture relaxed and his ever-present smirk firmly in place.

“Well, well,” he drawled as she approached. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Maya stopped short, narrowing her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Enjoying the morning,” Luca replied smoothly, spreading his arms to gesture at the manicured hedges and blooming roses. “The real question is, what are you doing here? You seem… troubled.”

“I don’t have time for your games, Luca,” she snapped, trying to push past him.

But he stepped in her path, his smile fading. “Careful, Maya. You’re starting to sound a lot like Cocona.”

Her blood ran cold. “What do you mean?”

Luca leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “She was curious too. Always asking questions, always digging where she didn’t belong. And look where that got her.”

Maya’s breath caught, but she refused to let him see her fear. “What happened to her?”

Luca’s eyes gleamed with something dark, something dangerous. “Let’s just say she didn’t understand the rules of the game. But you, Maya—you’re smarter than that. Aren’t you?”

She stepped back, her heart pounding. “Stay away from me, Luca.”

He chuckled, the sound low and menacing. “I’m not your enemy, Maya. But if you keep pushing, you might not like what you find.”

When Zane returned that evening, Maya was waiting for him in the suite. She didn’t give him time to settle in before confronting him, the photograph and letter clutched tightly in her hand.

“Who was she, Zane?” Maya demanded, her voice trembling. “Who was Cocona?”

Zane froze, his silver eyes narrowing as they landed on the items in her hand. “Where did you find those?”

“In the eastern wing,” she replied, her tone sharper now. “Why does she look like me? And why haven’t you told me the truth about what happened to her?”

Zane exhaled slowly, running a hand through his dark hair. “Maya, you shouldn’t have gone looking.”

“Looking for what?” she shot back. “Answers? Because no one in this house seems willing to give me any.”

His gaze softened, but there was a shadow of guilt behind his eyes. “Cocona was my best friend. She was everything to me at a time when I had nothing. But she got caught up in the family’s affairs, and it cost her everything.”

“What do you mean, ‘cost her everything’?” Maya pressed.

Zane’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. “She was killed, Maya. Caught in the crossfire of a war she shouldn’t have been part of. And yes, she looked like you. But that doesn’t mean—”

“It doesn’t mean what?” Maya interrupted, her voice breaking. “That I’ll end up like her? Because that’s exactly what it feels like right now.”

Zane stepped closer, his hands reaching out to cup her face. “Listen to me. I won’t let that happen. You’re not Cocona. You’re stronger than she ever was. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you and our child.”

His words were earnest, but they did little to soothe the ache in her chest.

That night, Maya lay awake beside Zane, her thoughts churning. She wanted to believe him, to trust that he could shield her from the storm closing in. But the cracks in their foundation were growing wider, and she couldn’t ignore the feeling that something—or someone—was going to exploit them.

Her mind returned to Luca’s warning, to Isabella’s whispered plans, to Helena’s relentless manipulation. They were all playing a game, and Maya was caught in the middle.

But the question that haunted her most was this: Was Zane playing a game too?

The next morning, Maya found another envelope on her nightstand. Her hands trembled as she opened it, revealing a single piece of paper with three words scrawled across it in jagged handwriting:

“Leave or die.”

Her breath caught, her heart pounding as she stared at the note. It wasn’t just a threat—it was a promise.

She clutched the paper tightly, her mind racing. She couldn’t tell Zane, not after their fight. He already had enough to deal with, and she didn’t want to be another burden.

But as she stood there, the weight of the note pressing down on her, she realized something else.

She couldn’t run.

Not now.

Not when the stakes were this high.

Later that day, Maya sought out Alex. She found him in the security wing, his attention focused on a bank of surveillance monitors.

“Alex,” she said, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her. “I need your help.”

He turned to her, his expression immediately concerned. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated, then handed him the note. “This was on my nightstand this morning.”

Alex’s jaw tightened as he read the words, his posture going rigid. “Whoever’s doing this is getting bolder.”

“I need to know who’s behind it,” Maya said firmly. “And I can’t wait for Zane to figure it out. I need answers now.”

Alex studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. But if we’re going to do this, we need to be careful. Whoever’s targeting you isn’t afraid to play dirty.”

“Then we’ll play dirtier,” Maya said, her resolve hardening.

For the first time in days, she felt a flicker of control.

And she intended to use it.