Chapter 59
Adam's POV:
I watched Maya's back disappear into her building.
My jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
She's staying.
I'd laid it all out—Julian's feelings, the rumors, the fucking gossip making her look like some opportunist sleeping her way through Garrison Industries. I'd given her an out. Hell, I'd practically begged her to quit.
And she'd looked at me with those guarded eyes and said no.
She wants to stay by his side.
---
An hour later, I was in a private room at The Harvard Club, nursing my third whiskey. The leather chair creaked as I shifted.
I heard voices outside the door—Ethan and Parker.
"Adam's probably drowning his sorrows already," Parker said through the door. "Ten bucks says it's woman trouble."
"I really don't get it." Ethan's voice carried that familiar edge of frustration. "What's so special about this Maya Bennett? She's caused him nothing but—"
"Dude." Parker cut him off. "Keep your voice down. You want him to knock your teeth out?"
I pushed the door open.
Both of them froze.
"Speak of the devil." Parker grinned, recovering first. He dropped into the chair across from me, already reaching for the whiskey bottle. "Looking grim, boss man."
Ethan slid in more carefully, eyeing me like I might explode. "Rough day?"
I poured myself another drink. Didn't answer.
Ethan leaned back, studying me. "So. Claire Ashford's back in town."
My hand tightened on the glass.
"Joined Sterling Global," Ethan continued, watching my face. "Claire's accomplished. Beautiful. No drama." Ethan ticked off points on his fingers. "And she likes you, why not—"
"Finish that sentence," I said softly, "and you're walking home with a broken jaw."
Silence.
Ethan whistled low. "Jesus. She even saved your life in Rochester."
I stood up.
Parker grabbed my arm. "Adam. Sit down."
"I'm just saying, man." Ethan backed off, hands up, but couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Seriously though, why are you so hung up on Maya Bennett? She dumped you because you weren't rich enough for her. And you still can't move on?"
I didn't answer. Just took another drink.
It's not just me who can't move on.
Maya hasn't either. I can feel that.
---
I didn't let myself get drunk. Stayed just this side of sober.
Left the Harvard Club around ten and drove home through empty streets.
Back at the penthouse, I sat on the edge of my bed, phone in hand.
My thumb hovered over Maya's name in my messages.
What the hell would I even say?
Then I noticed the family group chat—99+ messages. I'd kept it muted, so there'd been no notifications.
I clicked in.
Justin Hartwell: BREAKING NEWS!!! Big cuz has a girlfriend! Check out this pic—they're holding hands!!!
The photo showed two figures from behind. Dark-haired woman in a black jacket. Tall man beside her. Their hands clasped between them.
That restaurant.
I'd taken Maya to lunch today—my cousin Justin's place. The little shit must've snapped the photo when we weren't looking.
My chest tightened.
Jenna Hartwell: Need a face shot. Can't tell who she is.
Justin: Are you kidding? I'm not getting that close. Adam would murder me.
Robert Sterling: Justin, is this real? Adam actually has a girlfriend?
Justin: Uncle Robert, they were HOLDING HANDS.
Robert (voice message): "Well, that's promising. He barely speaks to anyone, let alone holds hands with them. If he's doing that, it must be serious."
Uncle Richard Sterling: Congrats, Robert! You're about to get a daughter-in-law. Grandkids can't be far behind.
Robert: "Thanks, Richard. Though I still need you to find me a sister-in-law first. Your nephew's getting married before you. Doesn't that bother you?"
Uncle Richard: Get yourself a wife before you lecture me.
Robert (offline).
Aunt Margaret Sterling: Adam, who is this girl? Have you checked her background? Is she trustworthy?
Aunt Margaret: You need to investigate before getting serious. There are a lot of gold-diggers out there. Be careful.
Robert: Margaret, relax. Adam's finally interested in someone. Don't scare her off..
Three missed calls from Dad.
I called him back.
"Adam."
"Hey, Dad."
"Why didn't you answer?" His voice was sharp. "I called three times."
"I was busy."
"Busy? You couldn't take thirty seconds to pick up the phone?"
"No."
Silence. Then: "The girl in the photo. What's going on?"
I rubbed my forehead. "She's the one who saved Grandma."
"Oh. That girl." Dad's tone shifted—interested now. "Adam, I'm impressed. Good choice. Family background doesn't matter to us—we don't need strategic marriages. But character matters. Make sure she's solid."
"Bring her to dinner this weekend," he continued. "Let us meet her properly."
She won't come.
Besides, she's not even my girlfriend. No way she'd walk into the Beacon Hill estate and face my entire family.
"I'll see," I said.
"You'll see? Adam—"
The line clicked. Grandma had seized the phone.
"I knew it!" Her voice was triumphant. "I told everyone I'd get my great-granddaughter soon. They said I was delusional. Now they're all desperate to meet her!"
I closed my eyes. "Grandma—"
"Claire Ashford stopped by today."
My stomach dropped. "What?"
"She came to the house. Asked if you were home." Grandma's voice hardened.
"She saved your life. I'm grateful for that. But I don't like her. And I'm not letting her steal you from my Maya. So I told her you were busy. With your girlfriend."