Aldridge was waiting in a small interview room, his normally immaculate appearance slightly disheveled. He'd clearly rushed here directly from dinner—a faint wine stain marked his otherwise perfect tie."Daniel." He nodded curtly, opening his briefcase. "I've reviewed the preliminary charges. This is serious.""It's a misunderstanding," I repeated. "Maya became hysterical. We argued. I was trying to keep her from hurting herself."Aldridge's expression didn't change. "The responding officers report that they witnessed you holding Ms. Russo at the edge of a cliff while she struggled to break free. They further state that Alexander Thorne intervened to prevent her from falling when the ground began to give way beneath her feet.""Thorne," I spat. "He's turned her against me. Been working his way into her life for months. This is all his doing.""Daniel." Aldridge's voice sharpened. "I need you to listen carefully. You're being charged with attempted murder and violating a restraining or
The rest of the day passed in a haze. Aldridge returned briefly to inform me that bail had been denied due to the severity of the charges and the risk that I might attempt to contact Maya again. I barely registered his words. All I could hear was Grandfather's voice: unworthy of the Russo name.That evening, I was allowed to shower again. In the metal panel that served as a mirror, I caught sight of a stranger—hollow-eyed, stubbled, hair lank and unwashed. I stared, momentarily confused about whose reflection I was seeing."That's me," I whispered, touching the cool metal surface. "That's... me."Something about the disconnection between my self-image and the reality in the mirror triggered a cascade of unwelcome thoughts. Had Maya ever loved me? Or had she merely tolerated me as the price for her career? Had Grandfather ever been proud of me? Or had I always been a disappointment he was waiting to replace?"Finish up, Russo," a deputy called. "Other inmates need to shower too."Back
MayaI couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the ground giving way beneath my feet again. The rocks crumbling. Daniel's fingers digging into my arm as he pushed me closer to the edge. His eyes—empty, unrecognizable—as he said, "If I can't have you, no one will."Dawn broke through the cabin windows, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. I'd been pacing for hours, my body running on pure adrenaline that refused to subside. My shoulder throbbed where Daniel had grabbed me, and I knew without looking that his fingerprints were tattooed in purple across my skin.I made coffee in the battered percolator, the familiar ritual steadying my shaking hands. Through the kitchen window, I could see Alex outside on the porch, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He'd slept there all night. Or tried to, at least.As much as I hated how Alex always found a way to be there when things went to shit, I was grateful. If he hadn't shown up yesterday... I glanced toward the window
The drive back to the city was a blur of mountain curves and highway monotony. My mind raced ahead to Mami Lulu. What would I say to her? What would she say to me? Every scenario I imagined felt inadequate.The woman who raised me, who taught me everything I knew about glass and art and survival, had also stolen me from my birth family. She wasn't just Mami Lulu who had rescued an abandoned child—she was Lupe Vega, once a celebrated designer who had taken calculated revenge on the people who stole her work by stealing their child.Could I hate her for that? Could I love her still? Both felt impossible and inevitable.Three hours later, I pulled into the Sunset Valley Care Center parking lot. The facility was nicer than most—I'd made sure of that when I chose it—with manicured gardens and a brick façade that resembled a New England college building more than a nursing home.Nurse Abernathy met me at the reception desk. She was younger than I expected, with intelligent eyes and an air of
My mind raced. The documents in Alex's file—photos of me selling beads at that fair, dated three years before my "rescue." Surveillance photos with my birth parents clearly visible in the background."They wanted..." I couldn't finish the thought."They wanted you trained," she said simply. "Wanted you once you could bring value to their company. Once you'd fully absorbed my techniques."I pulled my hand away, suddenly needing space. The room felt too small, too hot."I'm not saying what I did was right," she continued, her voice wavering. "It wasn't. But neither were they the grieving parents they pretended to be.""Why didn't you tell me any of this?" I demanded, anger flaring again. "When I was older? When I could understand?"She looked away. "Cowardice," she admitted quietly. "By the time you were old enough to understand, I couldn't bear the thought of you hating me.""And when they found me? When they took me back? You just let it happen."She closed her eyes briefly. "What cho
The night at the cabin was a bust. Four hours of prying at stones around the fireplace in the basement, fingers raw and bleeding, only to find nothing. Whatever case Mami Lulu had hidden was either gone or I was looking in the wrong place. By the time I gave up, it was nearly 3 AM and my hands were too sore to keep trying.I crashed on the couch for a few hours before driving back to the city, arriving with just enough time to shower and change before heading to Grandfather's mansion. The place always made me uncomfortable—too many memories of Daniel, too much inherited wealth on display. But today the discomfort was different. Sharper. I wasn't walking in as Daniel's wife anymore. I was walking in as... what? The heir to what might have been stolen in the first place?The security guard recognized me, nodding as I parked. "Mr. Russo is expecting you, ma'am."No one greeted me at the door. Not unusual—Grandfather had always run a lean household staff, unlike Daniel who wanted attendant
Robert KingstonI reviewed the quarterly earnings report with a satisfaction that never quite dulled, no matter how many successful quarters Vega Designs had posted. The numbers were consistent: 8% growth year-over-year, expanding European distribution, increasing margins on our premium line. The market remained hungry for our signature aesthetic.Setting the report aside, I gazed out over Manhattan from my corner office. Eighteen floors up, the city spread out like a complex living organism, each part serving its function. Much like a well-designed company. Much like a well-designed family.My thoughts drifted to Maya—my wayward daughter who had become an unexpected thorn. When she disappeared at age four, my first reaction had been pure fury. Not at losing my child—though I'd performed that part convincingly for the press—but at Lupe Vega's audacity. Taking our daughter as if that somehow balanced the equation."She thinks she's punishing us," Caroline had said through carefully meas
AlexI wiped down the kitchen counter for the third time, tossed the cloth in the sink, and checked my watch again. 4:17 PM. Maya had been at Giuseppe's mansion for over two hours now. Every instinct told me to drive over there, wait outside, make sure she was okay. But I'd promised myself—promised her, really—that I'd stop the surveillance. Stop the control. Stop treating her like someone who needed saving.The apartment felt too empty. Too quiet. I'd canceled my cleaner when she'd missed her usual day earlier in the week. Now I almost wished for the company, for someone else's presence to distract me from wondering what Giuseppe was telling Maya, what revelations she was facing.I made myself a cup of coffee I didn't need, ignoring the tremor in my hands from too much caffeine already. Paced the living room. Checked my phone again. The security update showed Daniel was still safely contained at the psychiatric facility. Small mercies.When the restlessness became unbearable, I walked
I grabbed my phone before my eyes were fully open, fingers finding it automatically in the dark. The screen lit up, momentarily blinding me.No missed calls. No texts. Nothing.Something heavy settled in my chest as I refreshed the screen. Still empty. I checked the time—7:32 AM. Not that early. Not anymore.I slipped the phone under my pillow, then immediately pulled it out again to check the ringer was on. Full volume. Full brightness. No way to miss a call or text if—when—it came.He'd said he would call today. Today had twenty-four hours in it. This was only the first of them.I dragged myself to the bathroom, wincing at my reflection. Mascara smudged in raccoon circles. Hair matted on one side, wild on
Troy's mouth fell open. "You did not." He stared at me for a beat. “You didn't, right?” He searched my face for answers, before disappointment clouded his face."You had to go that low?" Troy pressed his palms against his eyes. "Jesus.""I didn't—" I started to defend myself."Shut up." Troy cut me off, his words slightly slurred. "What happened after?"I paced the kitchen, my thoughts still tangled. "He left. Said he needed space.""Can't blame him." Troy slumped deeper into the couch. "So that's why you texted? Because he left?""Because—" I stopped, struggling to articulate what had driven me to reach for my phone. "I don't know why I texted. I was drunk
I was on my third scotch when I texted Troy.SOS. All gone to shit.Immediately regretted it. Deleted the follow-up explanation I'd started typing. Tossed the phone onto the couch and poured another drink. The alcohol wasn't helping, just making everything soft around the edges while the sharp center remained—the look on Alex's face when I'd weaponized the one thing I knew mattered to him.Eventually I stumbled to bed, still in my dress, makeup smeared from wiping at eyes I refused to admit were wet.I must have fallen asleep, because the sound of my phone jolted me awake. The room was dark, my mouth cotton-dry. The screen said 2:46 AM."Hello?" I rasped."Are you d
"So we make our own calls.""What are you doing?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it.Alex glanced over, confusion creasing his brow. "What?""They're targeting me," I said, the words coming out harsher than intended. "My foundation. My reputation. Not yours.""Maya, I didn't mean—""Just because we've fucked doesn't mean you get to insert yourself into my professional life," I continued, the harshness surprising even me. Where was this coming from? Why did that simple pronoun feel so threatening?Alex fell silent, eyes back on the road. I immediately regretted the outburst but couldn't find the words to walk it back. Instead, I changed the subject ent
MayaThe door to the Kingston mansion clicked shut behind us. I kept walking, heels stabbing the concrete with each step, not slowing until I reached Alex's car. My breath came in sharp pulls, chest tight, hands trembling. Not from fear. Rage.The car pulled away from the mansion. I stared straight ahead, jaw clenched so tight my teeth ached. Neither of us spoke as we left the house that had never been my home.Four blocks. Five. Six. The silence stretched between us, broken only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional click of the turn signal. My muscles ached from the effort of not screaming."Did you—" I started, then stopped. Started again. "Did you see his face when—"I couldn't even finish the se
"Maya," Father said, setting down his fork. "Let's be direct. The foundation you've established is creating a narrative that directly threatens our company's standing. Your use of the Vega name, your public statements about design appropriation—it's being interpreted as an attack on us.""It's not an attack," Maya replied. "It's the truth.""Truth is subjective in business," Father countered. "Perception is what matters. And the perception you're creating could do real damage.""To your profits," Maya said flatly."To our legacy," Mother corrected. "Everything we built—everything that would have been yours one day—is at risk because of this... crusade."Maya laughed, the sound startlingly everyone in the roo
We moved to the dining room, a procession of expensive clothes and cold fury. I hung back, retrieving my phone, before moving to join them..The dining room looked like a spread from Architectural Digest—crystal chandeliers reflecting off polished silver, white roses arranged in perfect symmetry down the center of the mahogany table. It was the same setting Mother had used for every important dinner since I was a child.Maya paused in the doorway, her eyes scanning the familiar opulence. I could see the familiar expression that passed her face—recognition, remembrance, then it gave way to revulsion. Then it was gone, replaced by the careful mask she'd worn since arriving."You've redecorated," she observed, taking her seat. Alex sat beside her, his presence altering the careful balance of the table. Wher
FionaThe Kingston mansion always reeked of money and misery. Standing in the foyer, I repositioned the heavy crystal vase on the antique table—my third adjustment in ten minutes. Mother insisted fresh-cut lilies were the only acceptable centerpiece for the entry. Anything else would be "common."I glanced at my phone: 6:54 PM. Maya would be here soon, assuming she kept her word. The knot in my stomach tightened. Daniel had messaged four times already, demanding updates. I still couldn't figure out how he had access to a phone in the psychiatric facility, but then again, this was Daniel Russo we were talking about. Money and connections could breach any barrier—even the walls of a secure mental health unit.On schedule. Relax.I'd added the second part against my bett
“Come here.”"I've been thinking about this for the last hour," he admitted, fingers already working at the button of my jeans. "You, just like this."I rocked against his hardened cock already evident beneath me. "You were supposed to be working.""Not with you biting your lip every time you read something challenging." His hands slipped inside my jeans, panties giving way, immediately finding my pussy like it was normal. "It's distracting.""Sorry," I said, with a slight shiver, but I wasn’t sorry at all."No, you're not." He squeezed, fingers digging into flesh in a way that made me gasp. "But you will be. Maya"The Mention of my name made something break loos