Chapter 103
Maya's POV:
I talked to Amy for a while longer—about her day, about the pizza, about how Daddy had turned the kitchen into what she called "a crime scene." She giggled when she said it, and I could picture her little face scrunched up with laughter.
"Okay, baby," I said finally. "Time for bed. I love you."
"Love you too, Mommy. Night-night."
"Night-night."
I hung up and set the phone on the nightstand. Lay back against the pillows. Closed my eyes.
And immediately heard a knock at the door.
I didn't need three guesses to know who it was.
I didn't move.
"Maya." Adam's voice came through the door. "Open up."
I stayed right where I was. "No. Go home."
"Maya, come on. Open the door."
"No."
"Then I'll start shouting." A pause. "Your neighbors are gonna come out—"
I yanked the door open.
He grinned. Smug as hell. Bent down to take off his shoes like he owned the place.
I turned and walked back to the couch. Sat down. Ignored him.
He followed. Sat down next to me. Way too close. Then pulled me into his arms.
I shoved at his chest. "Get off. You smell like a deep fryer."
He sniffed at his shirt. Yeah. Heavy grease and smoke. He looked like he'd been wrestling with a stove.
He let me go. Stood up. Started toward the bathroom. Then stopped. Turned around.
"Maya," he said. "I didn't eat dinner. Can you make me some tomato pasta?"
"No."
"I'll pay you."
"Good." I crossed my arms. "Ten thousand dollars."
"Deal."
He walked off to the bathroom. Smiling.
I followed him. Stood in the doorway.
He paused with his hand on his belt. Looked at me. "Want to watch?"
I rolled my eyes.
"I just wanted to tell you—" I gestured to the towel rack. "That towel? You used it. So I'm giving it to you. Don't want it anymore. The new one next to it is mine. Don't touch it."
He looked at me. Smirking. "Funny. You didn't want to open the door for me. But you already prepared a towel. Such a liar."
I slammed the door in his face.
Went to the kitchen. Started boiling water.
---
When Adam came out—waist wrapped in a towel, chest bare, hair damp—there was a steaming bowl of tomato pasta on the table.
He sat down. Started eating.
I stayed on the couch. Watched my show.
When he finished, he got up. Took the bowl to the kitchen. Washed it himself.
Then he came back to the couch. Sat down next to me. Pulled out his phone. Tapped a few times.
My phone buzzed.
I didn't look at it. Too focused on the screen.
Then I felt a finger poke my cheek.
Hard.
I turned. Glared at him. And froze.
He was still half-naked. Just that towel. Nothing else.
My face went hot. "Adam. Put your clothes on. What the hell are you trying to do?"
"Seduce you."
"Gross. I'm not interested."
"If you're not interested, then why does it matter if I'm dressed or not?" He leaned back. Stretched out his legs. "Shouldn't affect you at all."
"It does. It's uncivilized."
"I'm at home. Don't need to be civilized."
"This is my home. Not yours."
"Same thing."
I stared at him. Fuming. "You're shameless. And for the record? Your body is terrible. Stop showing it off. It's making my eyes bleed."
"You call this terrible?" He sat up. Grabbed my hand. Pressed it flat against his chest. "Feel that. Pure muscle. Rock solid."
I yanked my hand back. "I'm not touching you. Weirdo."
"Come on—"
"No." I stood up. "I'm going to bed."
I walked to my room. Locked the door behind me.
Lay down. Grabbed my phone. Saw the transfer notification.
Ten thousand dollars.
I accepted it. Put the phone on the nightstand. Closed my eyes.
---
Adam's POV:
Sterling Estate. Tuesday evening.
I stood in the kitchen doorway. Peeked into the dining room.
Grandma was sitting at the table. So was Dad. And Amy.
All three of them. Waiting.
Good. I went back to the stove.
Last night had been a disaster. I knew that. But I'd spent all night thinking about it. Analyzing what went wrong. Salt versus sugar. Heat control. Timing.
I could do this.
I would do this.
Because I was going to be a good husband. A thoughtful husband. The kind who cooked Maya's favorite dishes. Who took care of her.
I smiled to myself. Imagining her face when I—
"Mr. Sterling," Mrs. Johnson's voice cut through my thoughts. "That's sugar. Not salt."
I looked down.
Shit.
"Mrs. Johnson. Can I fix this?"
She sighed. Looked at the pot. Then at me.
"Just... throw it out." She paused. "Actually, why don't you let me—"
"Do I look like I can't afford to waste ingredients?"
"No, sir. That's not what I—"
"Then I'll keep going."
She stepped back. Said nothing.
I kept cooking.
---
Thirty minutes later, I carried a plate out to the dining room.
Empty.
The table was set. The chairs were pushed in. But no one was sitting down.
I turned to one of the staff. "Where is everyone?"
She hesitated. "They... went out, sir."
"Out? Where?"
"I believe... to a restaurant."
---
I was still standing there—holding the plate, trying not to feel like a complete idiot—when my phone rang.
Ethan.
"Where are you?" he asked.
"The estate."
"Doing what?"
"Cooking."
Silence.
Then: "Wait. You're cooking? Like... actually cooking? You can cook?"
I didn't answer.
"Holy shit." He sounded delighted. "I gotta see this. Parker and I are coming over."
"You want to eat my food?"
"Fuck yeah. This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, man. We're on our way."
He hung up.
I looked at the plate in my hand. Set it down on the table.
Went back to the kitchen.
---
Twenty minutes later, Ethan and Parker walked in.
And immediately froze.
Maya was standing in the entryway. Looking confused.
I looked at her. Blinked. "What are you doing here?"
She glanced down at my apron. It was covered in grease stains. Oil splatters. Something that might've been tomato sauce.
"I came to pick up Amy," she said slowly. "Where is she?"
Right. School tomorrow.
"My dad and grandma took her out to eat."
Ethan and Parker came up behind me.
Parker grinned at Maya. "Hey, Maya."
She nodded. Polite. "Hi."
Ethan didn't say anything. Just looked uncomfortable.
I knew why. He'd talked a lot of shit about her before. Before I told him the truth. Before he found out she was the one who disappeared to protect me. Not because she was a gold digger.
Now he couldn't look her in the eye.
"You made dinner?" Parker asked. He was already heading toward the dining room.
Ethan followed.
I heard them stop.
Then I heard footsteps. Coming back.
Fast.
They appeared in the doorway. Arms linked. Huge smiles.
"Actually," Ethan said. "We just remembered. We have plans."
"Yeah." Parker nodded. "Really important plans. Can't stay."
I grabbed them both by the back of their collars. "Sit down. Eat."