Chapter 1
Maya's POV:
"Maya, prep yourself. We're heading to a cocktail reception at six."
I looked up from my laptop, fingers still hovering over the keyboard. Julian Garrison stood in the doorway of my cubicle, his Armani suit crisp enough to cut glass.
"Reception?" I asked.
"Business networking. Bring your A-game." He flashed that million-dollar smile that probably worked on every woman in Boston except me. "Wear something nice."
"I'll be ready." I nodded.
---
Two hours later, I stood in the marble-floored ballroom of The Somerset Club. Crystal chandeliers. Waiters in bow ties carrying champagne flutes. Women in designer gowns—Valentino, Dior, the kind of shit I only saw in Vogue.
Julian worked the room like he'd been born to it—which, technically, he had been, even if his father's first wife would rather die than admit it. He shook hands, laughed at jokes I couldn't hear, played the part of the charming executive. I stayed two steps behind, smiling when appropriate, nodding at introductions I'd forget in ten minutes.
The room shifted. Conversations paused mid-sentence. Heads turned toward the entrance.
And there he was.
Adam Sterling.
The name hit me like a punch to the gut. I'd spent five years searching for a ghost, and here he was, standing twenty feet away in a charcoal Tom Ford suit.
Six-foot-three. Broad shoulders. That same sharp jawline that used to graze my neck when he—
Stop.
His hair was shorter now, styled differently. Still that golden blonde that caught the light. But it was the eyes that confirmed it. Gray-green. Cold as a nor'easter wind off the harbor.
Sterling. How could I have found a man whose family probably had an entire PR team dedicated to keeping them out of the press?
The Sterlings were Boston royalty. Old money so old it had cobwebs. I'd been in this city for a week and even I'd heard whispers.
Real estate. Finance. Now apparently some clean energy venture in Austin that had half the tech world salivating. Julian had mentioned trying to land a supply contract with Sterling Global Holdings for weeks. That's probably why we were here.
Jesus Christ. I'd dated a billionaire and hadn't known it.
No. Scratch that. I'd loved a man who'd been playing dress-up as a regular guy, probably getting off on seeing if I'd pass his little test.
Looks like I failed.
Our eyes met across the room.
For a second, I thought I saw recognition.
Then nothing. His gaze slid past me like I didn't exist.
---
Julian finally elbowed his way to the inner circle. I followed.
"Mr. Sterling." Julian extended his hand with just the right amount of deference. "Julian Garrison. Garrison Industries."
Adam's handshake was brief.
"Garrison." His voice was exactly as I remembered it—low, controlled, with that edge of authority that used to make me—
Stop. Fucking stop.
"I've heard good things about your work in Cleveland," Adam continued. "You're new to the Boston office?"
"Yes. Still getting my bearings in your city."
Your city. Like Boston belonged to him. Maybe it did.
I stood there, three feet away, watching this man I'd once known make polite small talk with my boss. He was good at this. The corporate dance.
He'd been good at other things too. Pretending to be someone he wasn't, for instance.
Cleveland. Two years ago. That little Polish place on East 65th that made the best potato and cheese pierogis this side of the Midwest.
"You're here again," I'd said, sliding into the booth across from him without asking. "Third time this week. Either you're stalking me or you're addicted to Mrs. Kowalski's cooking."
He'd grinned—slow, easy. "Could ask you the same thing."
"Maya," I'd offered my hand.
"Adam." His handshake was warm, firm.
That's how it started. Six months of thinking I'd found something real.
Then he was gone. Phone disconnected. Apartment lease terminated. Every trace of "Adam" erased like he'd never existed.
"Julian," Adam's voice cut through my spiral of memories. "Your date is quite attractive."
"She's my assistant, actually," Julian corrected with an easy smile. "Executive assistant. Maya's been invaluable since the transfer."
Adam's gaze finally landed on me.
"Assistant." He tilted his head slightly. "I thought you two were together."
Julian laughed. "No, no. Maya's—"
"Maya always said she wanted to marry rich." Adam's voice was conversational. Light. "Guess that dream hasn't panned out yet."
Julian's smile had frozen on his face. He looked between us, clearly sensing a story he didn't know.
My face burned, throat tight. Around us, raised eyebrows. Exchanged glances.
He's punishing me. He's actually punishing me in front of all these people.
I forced my mouth to work. "Thanks for your concern, Mr. Sterling." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Getting close, actually."
Adam stared at me for a long moment. Something moved behind those green eyes—something I couldn't read.
"Maya." Julian's hand touched my elbow gently. "Could you check on the catering situation? I think they need help with the arrangements."
"Of course."
---
The corridor outside was blessedly empty. I leaned against the wall, pressing my palms against the cool marble, trying to remember how to breathe.
I should go back inside. Find Julian. Apologize for whatever scene I'd just caused.
But my feet wouldn't move.
That's when I saw him.
Adam stood at the far end of the corridor, one shoulder against the wall, cigarette between his fingers.
Decadent and austere all at once.
He hadn't seen me yet. I could walk away. Should walk away.
Instead, I found myself moving toward him.
He noticed me when I was about ten feet away. I stopped close enough to smell his cologne.
"I looked for you." My voice came out quieter than I'd intended. "For a long time."
Adam took a drag of his cigarette, exhaled slowly. Didn't answer.
"Are you still angry with me?"
He flicked the cigarette into a nearby trash can, turned to face me fully. The look he gave me was pure disdain. "Angry? You think I'm angry?"
"Adam—"
"Let me guess." His voice was cold enough to freeze blood. "Maya finally figures out who I am and suddenly wants to 'reconnect.' Wants to explain things. Wants another shot now that she knows my last name comes with a trust fund."
"That's not—"
"You were a blip, Maya. A footnote in a particularly boring chapter of my life. If you hadn't shown up tonight, I wouldn't have remembered you existed."
Tears pricked my eyes.
Tell him, part of me screamed. Tell him about Amy. Tell him he has a daughter.
But what would that accomplish? He'd think I was using her. Using a child to trap him, to get my hooks into Sterling money.
"I'm sorry." The words felt like glass in my throat. "You're right. This was... I shouldn't have bothered you."
I turned and walked away before he could say anything else.
Two minutes later, he was back. Smiling. Shaking hands. Playing the perfect heir.
I stayed in my corner, making myself as invisible as possible.
Five years. Five years of searching for answers.
And now that I'd found him?
All I wanted was to run.