Four years in prison forged her into steel. Now she’s back—beautiful, brilliant, and utterly untouchable.
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Chapter 1 Four Years After Her Imprisonment
Inside Wront Prison, the July heat hung so heavy that it was hard to breathe.
Just as she let her sleeve drop to cover the glaring scar on her arm, Maia Watson -- once known as Maia Morgan -- heard a correctional officer call out, "Maia, someone from the Morgan family is here to pick you up!"
Her hand froze midway through the motion.
Hearing "Morgan family" again was like tasting something bitter and familiar all at once.
She had once been the daughter of the Morgan family.
Everything fell apart four years ago, when the police knocked on their door and announced they'd tracked down Richard Morgan and Sandra Morgan's real daughter -- Rosanna Morgan.
In the blink of an eye, Maia's identity was ripped away. She was branded a fraud, a fake.
Her real parents had died long ago. To keep up appearances, the Morgans made a show of acceptance. They told the world that they still saw Maia as family.
But anyone who had watched them for seventeen years would know better. Richard and Sandra had always been preoccupied with business ventures. Maia had been more like a guest in their home than a daughter.
Then Rosanna came back, and suddenly, their entire world revolved around her.
Then came the incident with Radiant Jewels. Rosanna stole a prized treasure and pinned the blame on Maia. It was an obvious setup, but the Morgans didn't care. They believed Rosanna without question. In fact, they helped her. They made public accusations and did it with such ease that Maia never stood a chance.
Radiant Jewels belonged to the Cooper Group. The Coopers weren't just powerful. In Wront, they were practically royalty. The Morgans couldn't risk offending them -- not for someone who wasn't even their real daughter.
They erased Maia's name from the Morgan family, told the public that she was taken in from a struggling family called the Watsons, and sent her straight to prison.
At the memory, Maia's knuckles tightened until her nails bit into her skin.
She had survived four years behind bars for a crime Rosanna committed.
And now, that sentence was over. She was finally getting out.
...
Just beyond the prison gates, the crowd of reporters buzzed with restless energy.
Heat rippled through the air, and impatience showed on every face.
Then, at last, the massive gates creaked open.
Maia walked out into the sunlight, dressed in the same plain outfit she wore the day she was locked away.
The second Sandra caught sight of Maia, her face lit up like she had just spotted a long-lost child. She rushed over, surrounded by a swarm of reporters waving microphones and flashing cameras.
Maia watched the entire spectacle and nearly rolled her eyes.
"Maia, my dear daughter, I came to bring you home," Sandra said, her voice catching as tears shimmered in her eyes.
Even a few of the reporters nearby couldn't help but murmur in sympathy at the emotional performance.
Unfazed, Maia stared her down and said coldly, "You must be mistaken, Mrs. Morgan. I'm not your daughter."
Sandra stiffened where she stood.
She quickly recovered and painted sorrow across her face. "How could you say that, Maia? I was the one who raised you. You lived under my roof for more than ten years. I've never once stopped thinking of you as my daughter."
Maia's lips twitched into a cold smirk. "Is that right? Then remind me -- four years ago, when you framed me and cast me out, didn't you call me a Watson? You let me go to prison without a second thought. I stopped being your daughter the day you erased me from your family."
Framed? To top it off, they said she wasn't even a Morgan -- she was a Watson?
Maia's few words hit like a bomb. Reporters traded stunned looks, then chaos broke loose as they rushed forward, shoving microphones closer, eager to catch every word.
With cameras pointed her way, Sandra had no room to lash out. Her face tightened, but she forced down the anger bubbling inside.
Right then, a voice sliced through the commotion. "Maia! What kind of lies are you feeding everyone? The treasure from Radiant Jewels was found right in your bag -- you were caught red-handed! How dare you claim you were framed? You spent four years behind bars, and we still dragged ourselves through this heat to pick you up. And this is how you thank us? You sound like someone spitting at the hand that once fed you!"
Jarrod Morgan was the one speaking -- the oldest son of Sandra and Richard.
Maia had always thought of him as a big brother. But when the truth was twisted against her, he turned on her without hesitation to defend Rosanna, even going as far as shoving her to the floor.
She had landed hard. Her arm struck the sharp corner of a table, ripping her skin open and leaving behind a scar that never truly faded.
That infamous jewel? Rosanna had slipped it into Maia's bag while she was washing her hands in the restroom.
At the time, Maia had genuinely believed that Rosanna meant well. She had seemed warm, honest, and eager to be friends.
That was why, when Rosanna offered to help, Maia handed her the bag without a second guess.
The thought that someone so soft-spoken and sweet could harbor such petty cruelty had never crossed Maia's mind.
The reason behind it was that she saw Maia as a threat. Afraid that Maia might become more beloved in the Morgan family, Rosanna decided to eliminate her.
That was the day Maia's eyes were opened to the truth about the Morgan family.
Since then, her heart had been hardened by betrayal.
"She must still be upset with me. That's why she's twisting everything..." Rosanna clung to Jarrod, her voice trembling as her lashes fluttered through misty eyes. "Maia, I swear I never came back to steal your place in the family. Please don't hate me for this."
Tears spilled down her cheeks as her slender frame shook.
Jarrod couldn't stand to see her cry. He pulled her close and said, "This isn't on you, Rosanna. Maia stole a life that was rightfully yours for seventeen years. She's the one who did wrong. If she can't admit it, then maybe more time behind bars will teach her."
"That's enough!" Sandra gave him a sharp look, flicking her eyes toward the hovering press.
With this many cameras rolling, she couldn't afford to lose control.
Facing the press, she quickly put on a diplomatic smile. "It's been four years since Maia lived with us. She's clearly still adjusting, and I can understand her emotions. If she can acknowledge her mistakes and show some changes, she'll always be part of my family."
Part of her family?
Maia let out a laugh that was anything but amused. She arched a brow and looked her dead in the eye. "Mrs. Morgan, didn't you sign off on the paperwork that cut all ties between us? Is that it? You're saying you actually want me back in your family now?"
Chapter 2 Her Husband
Sandra's face darkened instantly.
Back then, in order to cut off any connection with Maia, the Morgans had forced her to sign a severance document -- with a representative from the Cooper Group as witness, just to clear their name from any future accusations.
It had been an act of desperation, not dignity.
A swarm of reporters rushed in, shoving microphones toward Sandra. "Mrs. Morgan, is this true? You once said you wouldn't abandon Maia, that she was still your daughter even after reuniting with your biological child."
Trying to keep her composure, Sandra mustered a smile that barely held. "That's… not true. Of course not."
With a sly grin, Maia said, "So, Mrs. Morgan, do you have the nerve to call someone from the Cooper Group and find out if that severance document exists or not?"
"Maia, don't go too far! The people from the Cooper Group aren't someone we can just summon at will!" Jarrod shouted, his anger flaring from the sidelines.
With a smug tilt of her brow, Maia glanced his way. "So you're admitting you won't call them."
Jarrod was left speechless.
The image they had worked so hard to maintain was starting to fall apart, and Sandra scrambled to play the sympathy card. Her body shook with a sudden cough, loud and dramatic.
Catching on quickly, Rosanna hurried to her mother's side and rubbed her back in gentle circles. "Mom, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
Her gaze then shifted to Maia, filled with exaggerated grievance. "She's been worried sick ever since you were locked up. She cries every night, Maia. The doctor warned us that her health is getting worse. And if you still care -- even a little -- for everything she did for you growing up, don't make this harder. Just come back with us."
Maia felt nauseated by Rosanna's pretentious act.
Come back with them? Those words used to bring comfort to her. But now, they meant nothing anymore.
The last thing she wanted was to get caught up with them again.
There was no mistaking the resolve etched across her face. "That girl you all knew -- she died four years ago. And the Morgans were the ones who buried her."
Maia said her piece, then strode through the crowd and walked away without looking back.
The moment she was gone, Sandra dropped to the ground, putting on a show of sobs like her heart had just shattered.
She took a dramatic, deep breath before collapsing in a faint.
Panic erupted instantly as gasps and shouts filled the scene.
Wasting no time, Jarrod lifted Sandra into his arms, while Rosanna trailed right behind him.
The second the car doors shut and the cameras were behind them, Sandra's eyes snapped open, and she straightened up without effort.
Had she not faked that collapse, everything might've unraveled beyond repair.
This whole mess, in her mind, traced back to one person -- Maia.
They had shown up at the prison, making a public effort to welcome her back with grace. And how did she respond? By dragging the entire Morgan name through the dirt in front of a crowd.
There wasn't a single ounce of gratitude in that girl.
"She's outrageous! We gave her everything and she turns on us like this!" Jarrod cursed angrily, gripping the steering wheel.
The warmth in Sandra's face vanished, replaced by a sudden chill in her eyes.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "No money. A criminal record that sticks to her like glue. She's got nothing to her name. Without us, she's done. There's no doubt Maia will return -- and when she does, I'll have more than enough ways to handle her!"
...
Later that afternoon, Maia stood alone in front of City Hall in Wront, with some documents required for marriage registration in her handbag.
There was still time before her appointment, so she leaned casually against a tree, eyes downcast, thoughts drifting far from the present.
Back when she first stepped into prison four years ago, the torment seemed relentless, etched into every corner of her memory.
one night, when she was nearly beaten within an inch of her life, someone had stepped in to save her.
It wasn't a guard. It was a woman -- an inmate with more influence than anyone else. Her cell looked more like a private suite, and even the correctional officers stayed out of her way.
Most inmates feared her and kept far out of her path.
But for some reason, she had taken an interest in Maia. She offered protection -- but it came with a condition. If Maia wanted that safety, she had to accept a marriage agreement and carry out a task afterward.
Back then, trapped in a nightmare with no way out, Maia had no room to refuse. Survival meant sacrifice.
Without hesitation, she agreed to the deal and pledged her loyalty to the woman who'd saved her.
Fulfilling that promise had become her top priority now that she was free. That meant going through with the marriage agreement she'd accepted in prison.
Not far away, a stretch Rolls-Royce Phantom was parked in the shadows.
"Is that the one your aunt picked for you to marry, sir?" asked Brad Curtis, Chris Cooper's special assistant.
The view through the car window revealed a woman with lowered eyes and a slim frame.
Dressed in a plain white shirt and low-rise jeans, she moved with ease. When she stretched, her slim waist showed for just a moment.
There was a boldness in her silence. An edge of defiance that didn't ask for approval.
Pretty as she was, her past carried a criminal record that couldn't be ignored.
Brad couldn't understand why Zoey Cooper had pushed for this match. What could she possibly see in a woman who had served time?
Even more puzzling was the fact that Chris hadn't objected.
Reclining in the back seat, Chris rested his arm with easy confidence, his rolled-up sleeve showing off a well-toned forearm.
His eyes, narrowed slightly, settled on the woman's exposed waist, and an amused glint danced across his face.
Without a word, he shoved the car door open and stepped out.
"Are you Miss Maia Watson?"
Maia turned when she heard someone call her name.
She stood still for a second, caught off guard.
A man in a fitted black shirt stood before her, tall enough to block the sun from her face.
He looked unreal. Handsome in a way that made her pause. Each feature flawless, almost sculpted.
Could this really be the illegitimate son of the Cooper family Zoey had mentioned? The one with a bad reputation and a trail of reckless rumors following him?
A flicker of discomfort ran through her chest. "Are you... Mr. Chris Cooper?" she asked, uncertain.
He gave her a small nod.
Her eyes wandered back to him, studying every detail. His clothes were simple, but something refined clung to him. That faint smile hovered on his lips, never quite touching his eyes, leaving just enough mystery to stir her curiosity.
"You've been staring for a while now, Miss Watson." Chris let out a soft laugh.
Snapping out of it, Maia quickly turned her head, realizing just how obvious she'd been.
"My bad… Should we head inside?" she asked, trying to recover.
Together, they made their way into City Hall. When they came back out, a marriage certificate rested in Chris' hand.
"I'll keep my end of the bargain, Mr. Cooper. Once Zoey's request is fulfilled, I won't stick around. I'll file for divorce right after," Maia said.
Feelings weren't part of their arrangement, and she wasn't delusional. Most men wouldn't sign up for a life with someone who had a prison record.
Chris tilted his head, casting her a look. Her dark hair danced in the breeze, and while her face was striking, there was something clear and honest in her eyes.
Instead of answering her directly, he asked, "Is my aunt doing okay in there?"
Thrown off by the change in topic, Maia answered quickly, "She's healthy. Nothing bad has happened to her."
After a short pause, she pressed her lips together.
Truth be told, Zoey didn't just survive in prison -- she thrived.
It was practically her comfort zone.
"Glad to hear it." Chris didn't ask anything more. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a sleek credit card, and handed it to her. "Here. A little something to welcome you in."
Maia shook her head, hands raised in protest. "That's not necessary. I've got my own money."
Sure, they were now legally married, but it was still their first day meeting. And from what Zoey had shared, Chris might've had the Cooper name, but he was treated like an outsider. His standing in the family and at the Cooper Group was practically nonexistent.
From what she'd heard, he held no serious job title and spent most days drifting aimlessly.
She figured that he probably didn't have much saved up either.
The thought of accepting anything from him made her uncomfortable.
But Chris didn't waver. He took her hand, placed the card firmly in her palm, and didn't let go.
His eyes locked onto hers -- cool, enigmatic, and impossible to read.
"We just completed the marriage registration, which technically makes me your husband now. That gives you every right to use my money. Or is it that you're turning it down because you're not ready to admit I'm your husband?"
Hearing that word -- husband -- sent a faint flush across Maia's otherwise composed features.
"I'm not saying that..." Maia began, trying to explain, but her voice trailed off before she could land on the right words.
Without another word, she took the card and gave him a quiet, polite thank you.
Seeing her relent, Chris showed a smile of approval. "So, where are you heading? I'll give you a ride."
At that moment, a weight settled in Maia's chest. Her plan was to return to the Morgan family home.
It wasn't the house she cared about. What mattered was the bracelet -- the last gift to her from her grandmother, Vicki Morgan.
Back when Richard and Sandra treated her like an afterthought, Vicki had been the one constant. She had taught Maia everything from table manners to standing tall in a crowd.
Though no blood tied them together, Vicki's love had been as real as any grandmother's.
Maia knew, without doubt, that if Vicki had still been alive, she would've defended her with everything she had.
That thought brought a quiet ache Maia didn't show.
Still, she shook it off and gave Chris a calm smile. "There's something I need to handle, Mr. Cooper. I'll be fine on my own."
"No problem. Just call if you need anything."
He handed her his number, then stayed behind as she walked off.
When her silhouette finally disappeared around the corner, he glanced down at the marriage certificate still in his hand. A knowing smile curved his lips.
Divorce? Not happening.
Nobody could guess how long he'd been waiting for this moment.
Chapter 3 Returning To The Morgan Estate Again
Maia stood outside Vista Villas, her finger pressing the doorbell of the Morgan estate.
She had picked this time carefully -- she remembered how afternoons were usually quiet, each family member off chasing their own distractions.
When the door creaked open, it was Tricia Scott, the longtime housekeeper. Her eyes flew wide at the sight. "Is that really you, Miss Morgan? I... I can't believe you're here!"
The moment the words spilled out, Tricia covered her mouth with her hand, instantly regretting them.
The title belonged to Rosanna now. As far as the Morgans were concerned, Maia didn't exist anymore.
And if Rosanna happened to hear how Tricia had spoken to Maia, the fallout would be brutal.
With a quiet, measured tone, Maia said, "I'm just here to pick up a few of my things." Then she walked in as if she'd never been gone.
Just as she'd expected, the place felt empty -- eerily so. No voices, no footsteps.
As she made her way toward the stairs, Tricia rushed after her in a fluster. "Miss... uh, Maia, what exactly are you looking for? I can help you search."
"It's alright, Tricia. Everything I need should still be in my room. I'll just be a moment."
But before she could take another step, Tricia blocked her path. Her gaze darted everywhere but Maia's face. "Well, um… about that…"
A crease formed on Maia's forehead. Something didn't sit right.
Her voice lost its calm edge. "Tricia, what happened?"
With her shoulders sinking, Tricia finally gave in. A weary sigh escaped her. "Miss Morgan cleared everything out after you were imprisoned. And your old room -- it's not yours anymore. It's just a storage room now."
Maia froze. Her eyes grew wide, disbelief settling in. "Everything?" So was the bracelet that Vicki had given her thrown away, too?
A slow, regretful nod from Tricia confirmed what Maia had feared.
The truth hit Maia hard, sudden and brutal, like a lightning strike.
Someone like Rosanna wouldn't have had the guts to toss out her things unless Richard and Sandra were in on it too.
Trembling from head to toe, Maia clenched her fists tight.
That bracelet had been Vicki's last gift to her -- a symbol of love in a house that had offered her none.
Anger swelled inside her, fierce and uncontrollable.
She had tried to walk away from the Morgan family, to leave the past buried. But now, all that anger came roaring back.
From behind, a voice she hadn't missed in the slightest cut through the room. "I knew you'd show your face again, Maia!"
Maia turned to look.
Jarrod was there, standing a short distance away, that same smug grin plastered across his face.
Rosanna was by Sandra's side, gripping her arm as if playing the dutiful daughter for the cameras no one could see.
Without saying another word, Tricia slipped out of the room, sensing the tension.
Jarrod closed the space between them, towering slightly over Maia as he looked down with smug contempt.
"You were really bold outside the prison this morning. What's the deal now? Sneaking back in like this? Let me guess. With a record like yours, no one's gonna hire you. So you came crawling back. We're the only ones still willing to throw you a scrap, aren't we?"
With a lifted brow and a voice filled with sarcasm, he said, "Here's a thought -- admit everything now. Post a public apology to the Morgan family, and maybe we'll let you stick around out of pity. Sound fair?"
Jarrod had been simmering with rage ever since that morning.
That stunt Maia pulled with the press had bruised the Morgan name, and while he hadn't lashed out then, he was done holding it in.
Now that she had walked straight into their home, he planned to crush whatever defiance she still had left from prison.
Putting Maia in her place felt long overdue, and now that she had returned to the house, Jarrod believed it was his right to set her straight.
An apology, a fresh start, and keeping her distance from Rosanna -- that was all it would take for him to consider letting Maia back into the family.
The cost of keeping her around barely made a dent in the Morgan finances. Feeding her and offering shelter was no different from tossing away loose change.
Still, even freeloaders usually had the sense to be polite. A bit of humility wasn't too much to expect. But Maia acted like the world owed her a debt.
That attitude made his blood boil.
When Maia stepped forward, Jarrod lifted a brow and folded his arms, fully expecting her to stop and beg for forgiveness.
Instead, she walked right past him without a single glance, heading straight toward Rosanna.
His smugness vanished in an instant.
Then again, Rosanna was the one Maia had insulted publicly. Maybe this was her way of making things right.
But what came out of Maia's mouth next shattered that assumption. "Where are my things, Rosanna?"
Rosanna stiffened on the spot. A flicker of surprise passed through her eyes before she painted on a look of pure innocence. "What things? Maia, I have no idea what you're going on about."
A cold fire lit up Maia's eyes, the kind that didn't just glare -- it cut.
Her stare locked onto Rosanna like a blade, and her tone came out flat, stripped of emotion. "This is the last time I'll ask. Where did you put everything that was in my room?"
Instantly, Rosanna's face crumpled into a pitiful expression, and tears spilled down her cheeks. "I didn't mean anything by it, Maia. I just… I thought they'd wear out if I left them there too long. I figured I'd replace them once you came back, so I--"
Before she could finish, a loud slap cracked through the room, cutting the air like lightning.
Chapter 4 It Ends Here
Rosanna's cheek flared red with a vivid mark where Maia's hand had struck.
Frozen in disbelief, she barely registered Maia's voice cutting through the moment like a whip. "Who gave you the right to go through my things?"
Jarrod's expression twisted in shock, his eyes darkening with fury.
In a rush, he moved in front of Rosanna, shielding her with his body.
One look at her tear-streaked face, swollen from the rising bruise on her cheek, and something snapped inside him. His hands curled into fists.
Maia striking Rosanna was enough to make his blood boil. It was clear she had no respect for him whatsoever.
If she wouldn't listen, he'd make her. Today, she'd pay for that disrespect.
He raised his hand, ready to strike -- but before it could fall, Maia's hand shot up and caught his wrist, stopping him cold.
With one swift motion, she shoved him hard. Jarrod stumbled backward, nearly losing his balance.
He stared, stunned, at the woman standing before him. The person he saw now felt like a stranger.
The Maia he remembered had always trailed after him when he occasionally visited home, like a little shadow.
But that version of her no longer existed. Four years behind bars had carved out someone sharper, someone who stood on her own.
Where had this strength come from?
He couldn't say.
Back in her early days in prison, Maia faced constant bullying and abuse -- fresh bruises forming before the old ones even had a chance to fade.
Still, she never cried for help. Never lowered her head.
One day, pushed too far, she snapped. With pure rage, she sank her teeth into the prison's top dog and wrestled her to the floor. Blow after blow landed on her back, but Maia never let go.
Over time, and with Zoey's relentless training, Maia sharpened her instincts and became a fighter no one dared to provoke.
Eventually, the threats faded. She'd earned both her place and their fear.
Jarrod stayed put, placing himself between Maia and Rosanna, his glare sharp and unwavering. "Maia, you've completely lost it! We're talking about some old clothes and random junk -- nothing worth a fight! And you hit Rosanna over that? Apologize. Now!"
Maia's sudden outburst caught Sandra off guard. After a short pause, she wrapped Rosanna in her arms, worry etched across her face.
She glared furiously at Maia as she said, "I'm the one who gave permission to throw out your things! Rosanna only meant well. She was going to buy everything back -- new and fresh -- so you wouldn't be haunted by the past! But you? You didn't just reject that. You hit her! After everything, I never thought you'd sink this low. Maia, you've truly disappointed me!"
Disappointed? A cold laugh slipped from Maia's lips.
That same line had been used four years ago -- right after they framed her.
They'd shielded Rosanna back then too. And Maia? She'd been the target.
If anyone deserved to feel disappointed, it was Maia. She had already buried every last bit of hope she once held for the Morgan family.
Her eyes settled on Sandra -- the woman she used to call "Mom."
There was a time Maia loved and respected Sandra, even if Sandra rarely showed she cared.
Now, that love twisted into something sharp in her chest.
"You've always known I can't stand people touching my belongings," Maia said, her voice tight with restraint. "And still, you let her throw them out. Did you even realize that Vicki's bracelet was among them?"
Sandra had always been busy and seldom paid attention to Maia's life, but this particular habit of Maia's was something she knew clearly.
But when it came to Rosanna, Sandra's judgment blurred.
Years of guilt over being absent in Rosanna's life made her overcompensate. And when Rosanna wanted something, Sandra never said no.
For more than ten years, Maia had lived the life that should've been Rosanna's -- or so Sandra believed. So what harm was there in throwing out a few of her things?
To Sandra, even if Rosanna had been the one who stole the treasure from Radiant Jewels, she still thought that Maia should've taken the blame.
That thought alone washed away any lingering guilt Sandra had ever felt toward her.
"Let me remind you of your place, Maia. You're not one of us. You were only raised by us -- nothing more. That keepsake from Vicki? It was always meant for a true Morgan. Even if it were still around, Rosanna would have every right to it. Who do you think you are to lay claim to it? If she wanted to burn it, that would still be her right."
A stabbing pain twisted in Maia's chest.
She could sever ties with every Morgan in that house -- but not with Vicki.
That woman had loved her, protected her, and made her feel like she belonged. And now Maia had failed to guard the one thing that still connected them.
The ache in her heart deepened, sharp and unrelenting.
From the sidelines, Jarrod let out a cruel laugh. "So that's why you flipped out over some garbage. Let me guess -- you're broke, and you came crawling back here to pawn whatever you could find!"
Though he had once seen the bracelet, it looked cheap to him. He never imagined that it held any real value.
With a sneer, he pulled a few bills from his wallet and tossed them at her feet. "This enough for your little trinket? Take the rest -- it's on me. Consider it charity."
Maia's eyes burned with anger, rimmed red as she stared down the people she once called family.
There had been a time she believed she owed them gratitude. After all, they'd raised her for seventeen years.
That belief had led her to help them through their darkest years, without hesitation.
But now? That illusion had shattered.
What was taken from her -- she would get back.
And the Morgans? They had chosen cruelty. It was time they learned that she didn't forgive and forget.
Maia let her anger subside. She took the cash Jarrod threw and smiled.
Without hesitation, she shredded the money into pieces and threw them straight at his face.
"Keep your filthy money. I'd rather have nothing than take anything from you." With that, she turned and walked straight out of the villa, not sparing anyone a second glance.
Fury twisted Jarrod's face as he clenched his jaw, burning with humiliation.
His finger jabbed toward Maia's back as she disappeared through the doorway. "You'll regret this, you ungrateful bitch! Without us, you're nothing! You'll come crawling back -- I'll make sure of it!"
Sandra's face flushed red with anger, her voice rising. "We picked you up from prison this morning, Maia! That was out of the goodness of our hearts! No one forced you to walk away -- you did that yourself. Don't bother returning once you leave. You made your choice. It ends here!"
A cold, humorless laugh escaped Maia's lips.
Even now, Sandra clung to the story that made her look like the victim. Her audacity was almost laughable.
Turning slowly on her heel, Maia leveled the family with a chilling stare. "Drop the act. You're not fooling anyone. You called the press yourselves. Was that supposed to be a warm welcome? Or just a performance to make yourselves look like saints in front of the cameras? You know exactly what you were doing."
And with that, she walked away, never once turning back.
Behind her, the illusion shattered, leaving the Morgans standing stiff and speechless. Their masks had cracked wide open.
Rosanna buried her face in Sandra's shoulder, voice trembling with tears. "This is all my fault. we could've been a real family."
Instead of reflecting, Jarrod and Sandra focused on comforting Rosanna, acting like Maia didn't exist.
Chapter 5 I Just Wanted To Make Sure You Were Alright
Not a minute after stepping out of the Morgan estate, Maia pulled out her phone and made a single call.
"Cut off all dealings with the Morgan family. Effective immediately."
The call ended, and she slid the phone back into her coat pocket, turning around to give the house behind her one last, lingering look.
That place no longer felt familiar. It might as well have belonged to a different lifetime.
Everything that tied her to the Morgans was over. From here on, there would be no turning back.
Drawing in a slow breath, Maia gathered herself.
But just as she turned to walk away, she collided hard into a solid figure.
The sudden impact made her stumble, but before she could fall, a hand reached out and caught her firmly by the arm.
"Maia?" a deep voice asked.
Her head tilted up, and for a rare moment, emotion flickered across her usually unreadable gaze.
She hadn't thought her heart could still react like that. Yet somehow, it skipped more than just a beat.
Of all people, it was Vince Ward standing in front of her -- the son of Wront's powerful Ward family, her ex-fiancé.
Out of instinct, she yanked her arm free and put a few paces of space between them.
Vince's brows tightened ever so slightly as he took in her cold, unreadable face.
The woman standing there hardly resembled the bright, cheerful girl from the Morgan family Maia used to be.
"You... came back," he said softly, choosing his words with care. He didn't say "got out" -- perhaps to spare her dignity -- but the gesture only made her chest tighten with disdain.
There had been a time when she loved him out loud, without shame.
She had spoiled him, learned to cook just to see him smile, done everything to win his affection.
But he had never given her more than silence. He never once claimed her in public, never called her his. Still, she held a firm belief, convinced that kindness would melt the wall he kept so firmly built.
And yet, on the day her world collapsed -- when she was framed and wrongly accused -- he stood right there.
But he had stood by Rosanna's side, and the disgust and warning in his eyes matched those of the Morgans perfectly.
Not a single word of defense had come from Vince when she needed it most.
Years ago, it was Rosanna's grandfather who had pulled Vince's father from the wreckage of an accident. That one act of heroism had sealed a marriage promise between two families.
Back then, the Morgan family's daughter had been Maia. Now, the daughter was Rosanna.
Naturally, the arrangement had fallen onto Rosanna.
So Vince siding with Rosanna wasn't surprising -- it was expected.
But even now, whenever Maia thought back on it, a soft ache tugged at her heart.
She tucked that pain away behind a polite smile, lifting her chin. "You must be here for Rosanna, Mr. Ward. I hear the engagement's coming up. Congratulations."
She used to call him "Vince" with warmth, and now, being addressed so formally made him realize that the gap between them had been wider.
Something twisted in Vince's chest, sudden and sharp.
He stared at her, his voice rough around the edges. "Four years, Maia... and that's all you've got to say?"
Back then, Maia would talk his ear off whenever she was near. Now, all he felt from her was a chill and a wall he couldn't get past.
Her silence made his frown deepen, the quiet stretching too long.
After a beat, he nodded toward the Morgan family villa behind her. "I heard your family came to pick you up today. Why are you already walking away?"
Maia replied, "That's none of your business."
Though her tone was cool, her eyes -- bright and guarded -- flickered with something unspoken.
Those words struck Vince harder than he expected. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright."
A bitter laugh escaped Maia's lips. "Seems like your concern's pointed in the wrong direction, Mr. Ward. Shouldn't it be aimed at your girlfriend? You're nearly engaged, aren't you? Imagine Rosanna catching you circling around me -- how do you think she'd take that? So, is the plan now to turn your back on the real Morgan daughter just to chase after someone like me -- a woman branded by a criminal past?"
No words followed from Vince. There was just silence -- the same kind that had cut through her four years ago.
Maia let out a sharp, humorless snort. "Why don't you do us both a favor and stay out of my sight, Mr. Ward?"
But Vince's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist before she could take another step.
He held on, refusing to let go. His voice dropped to a hush, rough with emotion. His eyes were turning red. "Maia, it's true. Rosanna and I are getting engaged. But things don't have to be any different -- if you're willing, we could still go back to the way things were."
&12&
