Maya's POV
I wake up to sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows.
For one beautiful second, I forget everything. Then reality crashes back. Derek. Vanessa. My father's betrayal. The stolen money. Ethan Stone and his offer of revenge.
I sit up in the massive bed. This room is three times bigger than my old apartment. Everything is white and clean and expensive. It smells like money—that crisp, new scent rich people always have.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. Six missed calls from Derek. Twelve text messages. I don't read them. Instead, I check the news.
My stomach drops.
The headline screams across my screen: "WALSH FAMILY WEDDING: SON MARRIES DYING FIANCÉE'S SISTER IN ACT OF COMPASSION."
Below it, a photo of Derek and Vanessa. She's in a wedding dress, holding his arm, looking fragile and beautiful. He looks guilty but resigned.
The article calls him a hero. It says he gave up his own happiness to grant a dying woman's last wish. It paints me as the selfish ex who couldn't understand true sacrifice.
I want to throw my phone across the room. But then I see a second headline: "TECH BILLIONAIRE ETHAN STONE ANNOUNCES ENGAGEMENT TO MYSTERY WOMAN."
I click it with shaking fingers.
There's a photo of me. Not from last night, but from months ago at the café where I worked. Someone captured me smiling as I served coffee. I look tired but happy.
The article says Ethan Stone, one of the youngest billionaires in the city, is engaged to Maya Chen, a "talented designer and entrepreneur." It says we've been dating privately for months and are deeply in love.
Lies. All lies.
But beautiful, useful lies.
A knock sounds on my door. "Maya? Are you awake?"
Ethan's voice. I'm suddenly aware that I'm still wearing yesterday's clothes. I slept in them because I was too exhausted to change.
"Come in," I call.
The door opens and Ethan enters carrying a tray. Coffee, fruit, toast, juice. He sets it on the bed beside me like this is normal. Like billionaires serve breakfast to fake fiancées every day.
"You saw the news," he says, noticing my phone.
"You called me a designer and entrepreneur."
"You made your own wedding dress. You work at an alterations shop. That makes you a designer." He pours coffee into a cup. "As for entrepreneur—you're about to become one. I'm investing in your fashion career."
"I don't have a fashion career."
"You will." He hands me the coffee. "My assistant scheduled appointments at three boutiques this morning. You'll pick a dress for the wedding we're crashing today. Then we'll visit a fashion studio I'm renting for you."
"A fashion studio?" My head spins. "Ethan, this is moving too fast."
"Revenge doesn't wait for comfort, Maya." His blue eyes are intense. "Derek and Vanessa are married now. By tonight, they'll be celebrating. We need to make our appearance before they settle into victory."
He's right. But something bothers me about how prepared he is. How quickly he arranged everything.
"How long have you been planning this?" I ask. "You found me last night, but you already had a statement ready. You already had a photo of me. You already knew my schedule and where I worked."
Ethan is quiet for a moment. "I've been watching the Walsh family for two years. Waiting for the right moment to strike. When Derek started dating your stepsister behind your back three months ago, I knew my opportunity was coming."
"Three months?" The coffee cup shakes in my hands. "Derek was cheating on me for three months?"
"He met Vanessa at his father's office. She came there with Patricia to discuss the business merger. James Walsh introduced them specifically to create this situation."
The room tilts. "This was planned? They planned to steal Derek from me months ago?"
"James Walsh plans everything." Ethan's voice is cold. "He's been arranging marriages and business deals for years. Your relationship with Derek was inconvenient. You had no money, no connections, no use to his empire. So he removed you."
"By convincing Derek to marry Vanessa instead."
"Exactly. The fake illness story came later, when you wouldn't let go quietly. They needed a reason that made Derek look noble instead of cruel."
I set down the coffee before I drop it. "You knew all this. You watched them destroy my life for months and didn't warn me."
"Would you have believed me?" Ethan asks. "If a stranger approached you three months ago and said your fiancé was planning to leave you, would you have listened?"
He's right. I would have defended Derek. I would have called the stranger crazy.
"I waited for the perfect timing," Ethan continues. "I needed you broken enough to accept my help but strong enough to fight back. Last night was that moment."
"You used my pain," I realize. "You waited until I had nothing left, so you'd be my only option."
"Yes." He doesn't apologize or look ashamed. "I used your pain. Just like James Walsh used your love for Derek. Just like your family used your loyalty. Everyone uses everyone, Maya. The question is whether you're being used for good or evil."
I want to be angry. I want to throw him out and reject his help.
But he's offering me the only chance I have at justice.
"What else aren't you telling me?" I ask. "You said you've been watching the Walsh family for two years. Why them specifically? Your father died ten years ago. Why wait so long?"
Ethan walks to the window, staring out at the city below. "I needed to build my power first. James Walsh is connected to politicians, judges, police. You can't fight someone like that without resources and allies."
"So you built a tech empire just to take him down?"
"I built a tech empire to become powerful enough that he couldn't destroy me like he destroyed my father." He turns back to face me. "But yes, revenge was always the goal."
Something in his voice makes me nervous. This isn't just about business. This is personal in ways I don't fully understand.
"What did James Walsh do exactly?" I ask. "You said he destroyed your father's business, but how?"
Ethan's jaw tightens. "My father owned a small accounting firm. One day, James Walsh came to him with a request—hide some money from the IRS. My father refused. He was honest. He wouldn't break the law."
"So James Walsh destroyed him for saying no?"
"James planted evidence that made it look like my father was embezzling from his own clients. He got my father's accounting license revoked. Destroyed his reputation. Made sure no one in the city would hire him." Ethan's hands clench into fists. "My father tried to fight back, but James had friends in the courts. Every lawsuit my father filed was dismissed. Every appeal denied."
"That's when your father killed himself," I whisper.
"He shot himself in our living room. I found him." Ethan's voice is flat, emotionless, but I can see the pain in his eyes. "I was eighteen. My mother blamed me for not seeing the signs. My sister was only twelve. She watched our family fall apart and never recovered."
"I'm so sorry."
"Don't be sorry." He looks at me directly. "Use it. Use your anger and my resources. Together, we can make James Walsh feel the same pain he caused our families."
A phone rings—not mine, Ethan's. He answers it, his expression changing as he listens.
"When?" he asks sharply. "How bad?" A pause. "I'll be right there."
He hangs up and looks at me with concern. "That was hospital security. Someone tried to break into the psych ward where my sister stays."
"Your sister is in the hospital?"
"She's been there for eight years. After our father died, she had a complete breakdown. Paranoia, hallucinations, violent episodes." He grabs his jacket. "I need to go check on her. My assistant will be here in thirty minutes to take you shopping."
"Wait." I stand up. "Who tried to break into the hospital?"
"Security doesn't know yet. But I have a suspicion." His face is dark with anger. "James Walsh knows my sister is my weakness. If he's going after her, that means he knows about you. He knows we're working together."
"How would he know already? We only made our deal last night."
"James has spies everywhere. Someone must have seen us, or tracked my phone, or—" He stops. "It doesn't matter how. What matters is that he's escalating. Faster than I expected."
"Is your sister safe?"
"She's safe now. I'm moving her to a private facility with better security." He heads for the door, then pauses. "Maya? The wedding starts at two o'clock. Be ready to walk in there like you own the world. Because after today, everyone will know you're not a victim anymore."
He leaves. The door clicks shut.
I'm alone in this massive penthouse, wearing yesterday's clothes, drinking coffee that probably costs more than my hourly wage.
My phone buzzes again. Another text from Derek: "Please talk to me. I can explain everything. I never wanted to hurt you."
I delete it without responding. He had six years to not hurt me. He chose differently.
Instead, I open my phone's camera and take a selfie. I look tired, my hair is messy, but my eyes are determined.
I post it online with a caption: "New beginnings. Sometimes you have to lose everything to find yourself."
Within seconds, comments flood in. Some supportive, some cruel, some confused. I don't read them. I just wanted Derek to see it. I wanted him to know I'm not hiding in shame.
I shower in a bathroom bigger than my old bedroom. I use expensive soap that smells like lavender and money. I dry off with towels softer than clouds.
When I come out, there's a rack of clothes in my room. Designer outfits in my size. How did they get here so fast? How does Ethan know my exact measurements?
A woman knocks and enters—young, professional, carrying a tablet. "Ms. Chen? I'm Rebecca, Mr. Stone's assistant. I'm here to help you prepare for today."
"Prepare?"
"Shopping, hair, makeup, everything." She smiles kindly. "Mr. Stone wants you to feel confident when you face your ex-fiancé."
As Rebecca talks about boutiques and stylists, I catch my reflection in the mirror. I look different. Harder. Angrier.
Good. The old Maya is gone. The new Maya fights back.
But as we leave the penthouse, I can't shake a feeling of unease. Ethan knew too much. He was too prepared. He's hiding something about his connection to my family.
What else did James Walsh do ten years ago? What else is Ethan not telling me?
And why do I feel like I'm a pawn in a game much bigger than I understand?
My phone buzzes one more time. A text from an unknown number: "Be careful, Maya. Ethan Stone is not who you think he is. Your mother knew the truth. Ask him about the accident."
My mother? My mother died fifteen years ago in a car accident. What does she have to do with any of this?
I stare at the text, my blood running cold.
What accident is this stranger talking about? And how does Ethan Stone connect to my mother's death?