Chapter 19 Trust
Flashback: Two Weeks Ago
The soft hum of string instruments played overhead, blending with the clinking of glasses and murmurs of the well-dressed patrons at Bellareux, one of the most discreet and exclusive restaurants in Los Angeles. The kind of place where secrets thrived beneath white linen tablecloths and billionaires made enemies with dessert.
Caleb Donovan wasn’t looking for anyone that evening. But fate — or perhaps something darker — had different plans.
He had just settled into a secluded corner table when he spotted her.
Maya.
Elegant. Striking. And radiating that effortless confidence that belonged only to women who knew exactly what they wanted and how to get it.
Caleb leaned back in his chair, watching her from across the room. She was alone, her fingers wrapped around the stem of a Bordeaux glass, legs crossed, expression unreadable. But he recognized her immediately — the ex-girlfriend of Jaxon Wentworth.
The same woman who boarded the plane back from Milan with Jaxon and Elena.
The same woman who stirred tension just by existing in the wrong place at the right time.
A smile played at Caleb’s lips as he stood up, adjusting his cufflinks. This wasn’t coincidence. This was opportunity.
He made his way across the room, casual and smooth, and stopped at her table.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, voice low and unbothered.
Maya looked up, surprised at first. But then, as recognition dawned, her expression shifted into something amused. “Caleb Donovan,” she said slowly. “You're even more handsome in person.”
“I get that a lot,” he replied with a smirk. “Mind if I join you?”
She gestured to the seat opposite hers, a spark of curiosity dancing in her eyes. “You remembered me?”
“I never forget faces,” he said. “Especially not those that get under Jaxon Wentworth’s skin.”
Maya chuckled softly. “You mean my face or my history with him?”
“Both,” Caleb said plainly. “You’re his ex, aren’t you? The one who’s suddenly showing up again now that he’s publicly engaged to Elena Montclair.”
Maya didn’t deny it. She just smiled. “What can I say? Love is persistent.”
Caleb leaned forward, folding his hands neatly on the table. “How persistent are you, exactly?”
Maya tilted her head. “Why?”
“Because we might want the same thing,” Caleb said smoothly. “You want Jaxon back. I want Elena.”
At that, Maya leaned back in her chair, brow arching. “You’ve got my attention.”
“I know their engagement is fake. I’ve seen the cracks,” he said. “But the public doesn’t. The media’s eating it up, and the longer this charade goes on, the harder it’ll be to pull it apart — unless someone intervenes.”
Maya’s lips curved. “So you’re proposing an alliance?”
“I’m proposing we make sure this fairytale crashes and burns before it becomes permanent,” Caleb said. “You get Jaxon. I get Elena. Simple.”
She laughed, soft and low. “I do like simple. And I do hate being ignored.”
“I thought so,” he said. “Besides, you’ve already stirred things up just by showing up. Imagine what we could do if we actually planned something.”
She raised her glass in mock salute. “What exactly do you want me to do?”
“Be close to Jaxon. Unsettle Elena. Show up at the right moments — and disappear at the wrong ones,” Caleb said. “I'll do the same on my end.”
“And when it’s time to strike?” she asked, her eyes gleaming.
“I’ll give you the signal,” Caleb said, voice smooth as silk. “Just be ready.”
Maya downed the rest of her wine and leaned in, her voice a whisper of promise. “Darling… I was born ready.”
__________________________________________
A Few Days Later
The memory of that conversation at Bellareux still played in Maya’s mind like a thrilling melody she couldn’t shake. But tonight — tonight was no longer about promises.
Her phone buzzed just after ten.
A message from Caleb.
> “Jaxon is at The Raven Bar. Alone. You know what to do. Get him to your bed. Send the proof to Elena. Leave the rest to me.”
Maya stared at the message for a moment, the glow of the screen casting shadows on her face. A slow, dangerous smile curved her lips.
This was it — the signal.
Her heart beat faster, not from guilt, but from excitement. The game was in her hands now, and if she played it right, Jaxon would be hers again. And Elena? She’d be out of the picture, humiliated, broken. Just as Caleb promised.
Maya grabbed her coat, checked her reflection in the mirror — flawless, as always — and headed out the door.
The city lights of Los Angeles blurred past her windshield as Elena tightened her grip on the steering wheel. The tires hummed against the asphalt, a steady sound that failed to drown out the storm raging in her mind.
It wasn’t anger she felt — not really. The video had done its damage the moment she opened it. Maya’s triumphant smirk, Jaxon’s drunken stupor. The tangled sheets. The undeniable proof. But this wasn’t about heartbreak. She had no right to heartbreak.
This was about everything they’d built — or pretended to build — falling apart.
Their carefully crafted illusion. Their contract. Their plan. The engagement. The wedding. The image that kept both their companies soaring in the eyes of the public.
And now? One reckless night and Maya’s calculated vengeance could destroy it all.
She didn’t slow down until Jaxon’s penthouse came into view. The towering building, sleek and cold against the night sky, looked as untouchable as Jaxon himself. But tonight, she needed answers — or at least, damage control.
This wasn’t about feelings. This was about survival.
Elena killed the engine, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the crisp night air. The doorman recognized her immediately, nodding as he let her through without a word.
Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she made her way to the private elevator, her mind racing with the words she’d throw at him, the strategies she’d propose, the damage she needed to contain before the media or investors caught wind of this.
This wasn’t personal.
It couldn’t be personal.
This was business.
And Maya was about to regret ever playing this game.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, but the sound did nothing to ease the fire building inside her. She stepped into the penthouse, uninvited but determined. The space was dim, the soft glow of city lights pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. And there they were.
Jaxon. Disheveled, tense, standing near the bar as if bracing himself.
Maya. Smirking, draped on the couch like she owned the place, her legs crossed, perfectly composed in the aftermath of the chaos she’d created.
Elena didn’t hesitate. The door clicked shut behind her, and her voice cut through the silence like a blade.
“So this is how you handle a little tension, Jaxon? Get drunk and fall into bed with the first woman who throws herself at you?”
Jaxon’s eyes widened — whether in guilt, frustration, or shock at seeing her there, she didn’t care.
“Elena, listen—”
“No!” she snapped, her voice rising. “Don’t you dare try to explain this to me. You’re reckless, and you’ve put everything at risk! Everything! The engagement, the deal, our companies’ reputation— You’ve handed the tabloids exactly what they’ve been waiting for.”
Maya rose slowly, a smug tilt to her head. “Oh, spare me the righteous act, Elena. If you’re so worried about the image, maybe you should’ve been taking care of your man instead of leaving him to me.”
Elena’s fists clenched at her sides, heat flooding her cheeks. She took a step closer, her glare burning holes through Maya. “He’s not my man, Maya. But I won’t stand here and let you ruin what we’ve worked for because you can’t handle being left behind.”
“Oh, sweetie, I didn’t ruin anything. Jaxon came to me. He always does.” Maya’s voice was pure venom, her eyes glittering with satisfaction. “You think this little contract makes you special? You’re just a placeholder. He’ll always come back to me.”
That was it.
Elena’s restraint snapped, and she surged forward, but before she could close the distance, Jaxon stepped between them, his voice low but fierce.
“Enough. Both of you.”
His gaze turned to Maya, cold and sharp as steel. “Get out, Maya. Now.”
Maya’s smirk faltered. “Jax—”
“I said get out.” His tone left no room for argument.
For a second, Maya looked like she might protest, but then, with a toss of her hair and one last glare at Elena, she grabbed her bag and stormed toward the door, heels clicking in retreat.
The penthouse fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of the door slamming shut behind her.
The door had barely shut behind Maya when Elena rounded on Jaxon, the fury she’d been holding back now fully unleashed. Her hands trembled as she yanked her phone from her bag, the screen lighting up with the damning evidence that had burned in her mind since she saw it.
“Don’t even try to explain, Jaxon,” she hissed, voice shaking with emotion. “I saw it.”
She thrust the phone toward him, the video paused at a frame that made her stomach twist — his bare skin, Maya’s hands, the undeniable intimacy of it. Jaxon’s eyes dropped to the screen, and for a heartbeat, his face paled as if reality had finally slapped him in the face.
“Elena…” His voice was rough, regret lacing every word. “It wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t even know— I was drunk. She—”
“Don’t!” Elena cut him off, her voice sharp. “Don’t stand there and act like you’re the victim in this! You let it happen. Drunk or not, you gave her exactly what she wanted and handed Caleb the perfect weapon to destroy everything.”
His jaw clenched, frustration sparking in his eyes. “You think I wanted this? You think I planned this? I was pissed off, okay? I was angry, confused. I saw you with Caleb—”
“And that justifies this?!” she snapped, stepping back, disgust and hurt warring inside her. “God, Jaxon, do you even hear yourself? I told you this was just for the cameras. We’re supposed to be faking this. There’s nothing real between us— so why the hell are you so bothered about Caleb? And even if there was something real, you went and did this!”
He ran a hand through his hair, looking more lost than she’d ever seen him. “I screwed up, Elena. I know. But please… let me fix this.”
“Fix it?” she laughed bitterly, tears stinging her eyes though she fought them back. “You don’t just fix this, Jaxon. That video is out there. Whoever sent it to me could’ve sent it to anyone. The damage could already be done.”
“Elena, I swear, I’ll handle it. I’ll find out who—”
She shook her head, swallowing the lump rising in her throat. “You’d better. Because if this blows up in our faces, I’m not going down with you. You fix this, Jaxon. Or we’re finished before this sham engagement even makes it to the altar.”
Without waiting for a reply, Elena turned and strode toward the door, her heels echoing through the penthouse. As she reached for the handle, she paused just long enough to throw one last look over her shoulder — at the man who, for all his charm and power, had managed to make a mess of everything.
“Get your act together, Jaxon.”
Then she was gone, leaving him standing there, alone with his regret.
The door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the empty penthouse like a final verdict. Jaxon stood frozen, his heart pounding, Elena’s words ringing in his ears. Get your act together, Jaxon.
He exhaled shakily, dragging both hands down his face. The weight of what had just happened, of what he’d done, settled over him like a suffocating blanket. The alcohol had worn off long ago, but the consequences of that one reckless night burned brighter now than ever.
“No more screwing this up,” he muttered to himself, jaw tightening with resolve.
Without wasting another second, he grabbed his phone and dialed Damon. The line clicked, and his friend’s steady voice answered on the second ring.
“Jaxon? You okay?”
“No. And I don’t have time to explain,” Jaxon said, pacing the room. “I need you to do something for me. I’ll send you a video and I need you to find out who sent the video. I don’t care how—just do it. And fast.”
Damon didn’t question him. “I’m on it.”
Jaxon hung up and immediately pulled up Maya’s number. His thumb hovered over the call button before he let out a bitter laugh and tossed the phone onto the couch instead. What good would that do? She’d played him perfectly — maybe she’d been part of this all along. He didn’t even know anymore.
He moved to the window, staring out over the glittering Los Angeles skyline, the city lights mocking him with their brilliance. This wasn’t just about his own pride or guilt anymore. This was about salvaging what was left of the plan, the image, the empire tied to this engagement.
And maybe, just maybe, about not letting Elena down any further.
“I’ll fix this,” he said to the night, to himself, to the ghost of the woman who’d just walked out on him.
And with that, Jaxon Wentworth got to work, determined to untangle the mess — no matter what it took.