The Weight of a New Life
The Mediterranean sun was supposed to feel like freedom.
Warm. Golden. Endless.
But today, it pressed against my skin like a spotlight I couldn't escape—too bright, too exposing, like it could peel back every layer I'd carefully built over the past two weeks.
Two weeks.
Two weeks of luxury, of quiet mornings on a private yacht, of waking up wrapped in silk sheets with a man who could bend the world to his will.
Two weeks of Happily Ever After.
And yet…
My chest felt tight.
Because I wasn't just Maya from the diner anymore.
I was a headline.
A symbol.
A woman with five hundred million dollars attached to her name and a ring on her finger that could buy out my father's entire block in Astoria without blinking.
And somehow… that terrified me more than the Labyrinth ever had.
Reid Sees Too Much
"You're doing it again," Reid murmured.
His voice was soft, but it cut clean through my thoughts like a blade.
I turned slightly.
