The morning after the gala, Maya's bookstore was unusually quiet. Normally, the small bell above the door jingled a dozen times before noon, but today the silence pressed against her like a second skin. She should have welcomed the stillness—it meant time to sort shelves, sip her coffee, and breathe—but instead, unease curled in her stomach.
Her phone buzzed on the counter. She hesitated before picking it up, already knowing who it would be.
Breaking News: Heir to the Vale Empire Seen With Mystery Woman.
Beneath the headline was a photo snapped from the terrace—her hand in Adrian's, his body angled protectively toward her. The kiss wasn't visible, but the intimacy in their stance was undeniable. Maya's heart dropped.
"Damn it," she whispered, tossing the phone aside. She had worked so hard to keep her life private, to live quietly. Now strangers dissected her like she was part of some soap opera.
The bell above the door chimed, and she looked up sharply, bracing herself. Relief washed over her when Adrian walked in, though his expression was tense. He carried a folded newspaper under one arm.
"You've seen it," he said without preamble.
Maya crossed her arms. "Hard to miss. They're already calling me 'the bookstore girl.'"
Adrian grimaced. "I'm sorry, Maya. I should've known they'd twist it the moment someone snapped a photo."
She exhaled slowly. "It's not your fault. But I don't know if I can handle being… public property."
His gaze softened, but there was a steel edge beneath it. "Then we'll handle it together. They don't get to define us."
Maya wanted to believe him, but doubts whispered like shadows. His world was relentless, and she wasn't sure love alone could shield them.
Before she could voice her fears, the bell chimed again. This time, it wasn't a customer. Cassandra Vale swept into the bookstore as though it were another ballroom, her tailored coat pristine, her chin lifted in quiet disdain.
Maya's chest tightened. "Mrs. Vale."
Adrian stiffened. "Mother."
Cassandra's gaze drifted over the rows of books with faint disinterest before settling on Maya. "I thought it best we speak plainly. Adrian won't hear reason from me, but perhaps you will."
Maya bristled. "Reason?"
"You're not suited for this life," Cassandra said coolly. "You'll be devoured, piece by piece. And Adrian will suffer for it too. The press is already circling, the investors are asking questions. Do you want to be the reason he loses everything?"
Adrian's voice cut like steel. "Enough. Maya isn't the problem. This circus of expectations is."
But Maya couldn't ignore the pang in her chest. Cassandra's words had landed where her fears already lived.
Cassandra tilted her head, lips curved in a victory smile. "Think about it, my dear. Love isn't always enough." With that, she turned and swept out, leaving silence in her wake.
Adrian cursed under his breath. "She doesn't get to manipulate you."
Maya wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold. "She doesn't have to. She just said what I've been afraid of since the beginning."
He stepped closer, his hands framing her face gently. "Maya, listen to me. I've spent years letting them dictate my choices. Not anymore. You're not a weakness—they're just too blind to see you're my strength."
Her throat tightened. The intensity in his eyes, the conviction in his words—it was everything she wanted, yet terrifying in its weight. She swallowed hard. "Adrian, what if you regret it later?"
"Then I'll regret it with you," he said firmly.
Something in her cracked then, a dam breaking. She leaned into him, her forehead against his chest, letting his heartbeat steady her own. For once, she allowed herself to believe.
The rest of the day blurred into half-hearted attempts to work. Adrian stayed, shelving books with surprising competence, making her laugh despite the heaviness hanging over them. It felt almost normal, almost like the world outside didn't exist.
But as dusk settled, reality intruded again. Adrian's phone rang, vibrating against the counter. He glanced at the screen and sighed. "My father."
Maya's pulse quickened. "Answer it."
He pressed the phone to his ear, his voice clipped. "Yes?"
Maya couldn't hear Charles Vale's words, but she could read the tension in Adrian's shoulders, the way his jaw clenched tighter with each passing second. Finally, Adrian snapped, "No. I won't parade her around for your approval. She's not a pawn in your game."
He ended the call abruptly, slamming the phone down. Maya flinched at the sound.
"Adrian—"
He turned to her, frustration etched deep in his features. "He wants me to bring you to a private dinner. To test you. To judge if you're 'worthy.'" His voice dripped with disgust. "It's not about us—it's about control."
Maya bit her lip. "Maybe we should go."
He blinked, startled. "What?"
"Not because we owe them anything," she said quickly. "But because running only gives them power. If they want to see who I am, then let them. I won't let them tear us apart before we've even had a chance."
Adrian studied her, awe flickering in his eyes. "You're braver than you think."
"Or foolish," she muttered.
"Either way," he said softly, reaching for her hand, "I'm with you."
The weight of what lay ahead pressed on both of them, but in that moment, Maya felt something shift. This wasn't just about surviving his family anymore. It was about proving—to them, to the world, maybe even to herself—that what they had was real.
Later, when Adrian walked her to her door, the night was quiet, heavy with unspoken promises. He brushed a kiss against her temple, lingering.
"Tomorrow," he murmured, "we'll face them together."
Maya nodded, though fear and hope warred inside her. Because tomorrow might break them—or bind them forever.