Chapter 122
Adam's POV:
I walked into the apartment. It was completely silent. No lights were on, and the air felt cold.
I loosened my tie and pulled out my phone. I called Maya first. No answer. I frowned and dialed Amy’s number.
Amy picked up on the second ring. "Daddy!"
"Where are you?" I asked, walking into the kitchen. "It’s late."
"We are eating dinner outside," Amy chirped. "With Auntie Chloe."
"Is Great-Grandma with you?"
"Yep! She’s right here."
I rubbed my temple. Grandma had too much energy. "Put your mother on the phone."
There was a rustling sound. A moment later, Maya’s voice came through. It sounded light and happy. "We’re just finishing up dinner. You’re on your own for food tonight."
I stared at the empty refrigerator. "When are you coming back?"
"Not for a while," Maya said. "We’re going singing after this."
My eyebrows shot up. "Singing? You are taking a four-year-old and an elderly woman to a karaoke bar?"
"It’s a private room. Relax."
"Maya, Grandma shouldn't be staying up this late. And Amy has school tomorrow—"
Suddenly, the phone was snatched away. Grandma’s voice boomed in my ear.
"Stop nagging! We aren't breaking the law. God, you are boring. Be careful or Maya will get sick of you."
I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off.
"Don't call us again. We are busy! Bye!"
The line went dead.
Two hours later, the kitchen looked like a war zone.
I stood over the island, holding a heavy cleaver. There were chicken bones on the floor. Raw meat was splattered on the backsplash. Flour coated the stove.
The front door opened.
"Did a bomb go off in here?" Grandma asked from the hallway.
Amy ran into the kitchen first. She stopped and stared wide-eyed at the mess. Maya walked in behind her. She took one look at me, sighed heavily, and walked over to take the knife from my hand.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
I wiped my hands on a towel. "I wanted to make chicken soup."
"Dear CEO Sterling, if you can't cook, please don't force it."
"I’m hungry," I said, looking at her.
"Order takeout. Do you know how long soup takes?"
"I don't want takeout," I said stubbornly. "You spoiled my palate. Nothing else tastes right anymore."
Maya crossed her arms. "So this is my fault?"
"No," I said, stepping closer. "It means I can't live without your cooking. And I can't live without you."
Maya glanced at the doorway, where Amy was giggling with her hands over her mouth. Maya shot me a glare, but her eyes were soft.
"Fine," she muttered. She opened the fridge. "Sit down. I'll make noodles."
I grinned. While she cooked, I grabbed a sponge and started scrubbing the counters. Grandma poked her head in, saw me cleaning, and scoffed.
"So dramatic," she said, then marched upstairs to bed. Amy followed her shortly after.
Ten minutes later, Maya placed a bowl of noodles in front of me at the island.
"Thank you, Maya," I said. "You’re the best."
She didn't reply, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. I ate watching her move around the kitchen. It felt domestic. It felt right.
When she finished cleaning, she sat on the stool opposite me. Her expression turned serious.
"Adam," she said quietly. "What is happening with Claire? Is there a verdict?"
I stopped eating. "She’s been sent to a mental institution. She has severe psychosis."
Maya frowned. "She’s really sick? Did you know?"
"No," I said.
I reached across the island and covered her hand with mine. "Maya, listen to me. I never had feelings for her. She saved my life once in Rochester, but that was it. For the last five years, the only person in my head was you."
Maya pulled her hand back slowly. Her gaze was cool. "Is that so? Your head was full of me, but you never came to look for me."
My chest tightened. The thing I regretted most was my self-righteous restraint over the last five years. I had thought I was being disciplined. I thought I was being rational.
Restraint, my ass.
But it was too late to explain. Maya had already turned and walked up the stairs.
Maya's POV:
The next morning, the house was busy. Adam drove Amy to Sunny Days Daycare on his way to the office.
Grandma received a call from her friends at the country club. They wanted to play bridge.
"I can drive you," I offered, wiping down the breakfast table.
"No need," Grandma said, waving her hand. "The bodyguard is outside. You stay here and rest. You look tired from cooking for that ungrateful grandson of mine."
She winked at me and left.
I smiled, enjoying the quiet. I poured another cup of coffee and started tidying up the living room.
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang.
I frowned. I wasn't expecting anyone. I walked to the foyer and opened the door.
A woman stood there. She was dressed in an expensive cream coat and pearls. She was older, but she was still beautiful.
"Can I help you?" I asked.
"You must be Maya," she said. Her voice was sharp.
I paused. "I am. And you are?"
"Katherine Sterling," she said. "Adam’s mother."
My stomach dropped. Adam rarely spoke about his mother. I stepped back. "Come in."
Katherine walked past me without a thank you. She stood in the center of the living room, scanning the furniture, the art, and the high ceilings.
"I heard you have a daughter," Katherine said abruptly. She turned her cold gaze on me.
"Yes," I said. "Amy."
"Right." She sneered. "And what makes you think my son is going to marry a woman with baggage?"
My blood turned cold. I stared at her.
"First of all," I said, my voice steady. "My daughter is not 'baggage.' She is the most important person in my life. Second, Adam and I are not currently dating. Whether or not I marry him is not your concern."
Katherine’s face darkened. She opened her mouth to yell, but I cut her off.
"And third," I said, stepping closer. "You may be Adam’s mother, but you have no right to insult me in my home."
"Your home?" Katherine laughed. "This is my son's house! You are just a squatter."
"Actually," I said coldly. "The deed is in my name. I am the owner."
"If you are here to see Adam, go to his office," I continued. "If you are here to insult me, you can leave. Now."
Katherine’s face turned red. "You..."
"Get out," I said, pointing at the door. "Or I will call the police for trespassing."
Katherine grabbed her purse. She marched to the door, trembling with rage. She stopped on the threshold and glared at me.
"I have never met a woman so shameless," she spat. "Taking a house, clinging to my son. Let me tell you something, Maya Bennett. Give up your dreams of joining the elite. As long as I am alive, you will never enter the Sterling family."
I slammed the heavy door in her face.