Maya's POV
I still can't believe I slapped Adonis Monleon.
The memory of my palm colliding with his cheek was still raw on my skin, like an echo that wouldn't fade. For years, I let his mockery roll off my back like water on stone. I endured the cruel smirks, the jabs disguised as jokes, the arrogance in every word he threw my way—and I never fought back.
Because some foolish, stubborn part of me loved him.
But something cracked open in me today.
Maybe it was the way he said my name with that same smug tone. Maybe it was the way he stood there, shirtless and so infuriatingly confident, acting like he owned the world—and me. But more than anything, I think it was the realization that I had spent too long letting him belittle me while I stayed silent, hoping he'd eventually see me as someone worth respecting.
Not anymore.
I sat down heavily on a smooth river rock, staring at the water as it flowed past me. The river had always been my escape, my little sanctuary. But today, even the gentle current couldn't calm the storm inside me.
His words had cut deep—sharper than they should have. And as much as I hated it, they opened a door I had slammed shut almost a year ago.
Don Miguel's birthday.
That night would forever be branded in my memory. A night I never should have attended.
I hadn't wanted to go. Not because I didn't love Ariana, but because I knew I didn't belong. Their guests weren't just from San Antonio—they were from everywhere. Politicians, landowners, celebrities, children of tycoons. People who wore their names like crowns. People who could buy and sell everything I'd ever known. And there I was—just the granddaughter of a farmhand.
"Maya, I need you there," Ariana had pleaded. "If you don't come, I won't either."
I remembered the way she pouted, arms folded stubbornly across her chest. I had tried to reason with her.
"Look, Ariana, that party is for your grandfather's guests. I don't belong in a place like that. Besides… I don't even have a dress."
Her face had lit up then, mischievous and triumphant. "Already taken care of. I bought one for you."
I groaned, but I knew she wouldn't back down until I said yes. She never did.
"Fine. But promise me you won't make me mingle with your rich friends."
"Deal," she grinned, pulling me into a hug that smelled like jasmine and city perfume. "You won't regret it."
But I did.
The moment her chauffeur, Max, pulled up in front of our house the next day, everything started to feel surreal. He greeted me politely, almost formally.
"Young Madam Ariana sent me to fetch you, Miss Maya. She asked that your sister come along too. Don't worry—she's already prepared gowns for both of you. And she arranged makeup and hairdressers from the city."
I blinked at him, half-excited, half-terrified. I was about to turn around and run back into the house when Mary appeared at the door, her overnight bag in hand.
"Maya, please don't say no," she said breathlessly. "Not everyone gets invited to a Monleon party. I packed last night, just in case. You know Ariana was going to ask us."
Her eyes sparkled with dreams. She looked at me like I was the only one standing between her and something magical.
And I couldn't say no.
Not to Mary.
She was sixteen, wide-eyed, and full of hope. I didn't have riches to give her—no fancy phones, no branded shoes—but I could give her this night. I could give her a memory. A taste of the world she sometimes dreamed about, even if I dreaded it.
So I said yes.
We hugged our grandparents goodbye and climbed into Ariana's sleek, luxurious car. As the wheels rolled over the dirt roads toward the heart of Hacienda Monleon, I couldn't stop my heart from pounding.
Some part of me wanted to see him.
Adonis.
The boy I'd been hopelessly drawn to since grade school. The boy who had teased me, ignored me, and kissed me when I least expected it. The boy I thought might have felt something real—until he shattered me like glass.
As the mansion came into view, its lights glowing like fireflies in the distance, a knot formed in my chest. I had a feeling this night would change everything.
And oh, how I wish I had listened to that feeling.
We passed through the grand archway of Hacienda Monleon, and even though I'd seen it many times before, I still couldn't get over how enormous and majestic the estate was. From a distance, the mansion looked like something out of a dream—towering, elegant, untouched by the dust and struggle of ordinary life.
As the car rolled closer, the long, tree-lined driveway welcomed us like a quiet parade. The trees cast dappled shadows on the cobblestone path, and the manicured garden that stretched out before the house was bursting with color. Flowers bloomed like poetry—roses, lilies, orchids—all arranged with the kind of care only wealth and vision could buy.
The estate was alive with movement. Staff bustled around, some directing deliveries, others setting up tables dressed in crisp white linen and pastel tulle. Long banquet tables shimmered with fresh floral arrangements and crystal glassware. You could almost hear the orchestra tuning in the distance.
And yet, amidst all that opulence, I felt… small.
When the car stopped near the front steps, Ariana was already there, waiting in the parlor like a scene from a movie. The moment she saw us, she rushed forward and pulled both Mary and me into a tight embrace.
"Maya! Mary! You made it!" she squealed. "I thought for sure you'd back out again, Maya."
I smiled. "You know I can't say no to you, Ariana. No one ever can."
She laughed and immediately took my hand, leading us inside with her usual glow and energy. I was relieved that Adonis wasn't around—though part of me, traitorous and persistent, couldn't help but wish for a glimpse of him. That contradiction lived rent-free in my heart: dreading his presence, yet craving his attention.
Ariana led us upstairs to one of the guest rooms, and Mary gasped the moment we stepped inside. I couldn't blame her. The room was larger than our entire house. The bed alone looked like it could fit a whole family, and the mattress was so plush it seemed to float.
"This will be your chamber for the night," Ariana said proudly. "And I'm not letting either of you leave until sunrise—we're dancing until morning."
Mary's eyes sparkled as she dropped her bag and flopped onto the bed with a delighted laugh. I stood by the window, quietly watching her. She looked so young, so full of wonder, soaking in every detail like she had stepped into a fairy tale. She'd always been drawn to pretty things—gadgets, shoes, jewelry, glittery dreams.
And I wanted so badly to give her all of it.
We didn't grow up with much. We were orphaned young, raised by our grandparents in one of the modest homes on the edge of this very hacienda. But Mary never let that dim her spirit. And me? I survived through discipline—studying late into the night, chasing scholarships, fighting for a future through every test and essay.
I didn't want riches. I only wanted to ease my grandfather's burden and give Mary a life that didn't include hand-me-downs and silent prayers for tuition money.
"Maya, you're daydreaming again," Mary teased, pulling me back to the present.
I smiled at her just as the makeup artists and stylists arrived. They greeted us warmly and quickly got to work, transforming our humble faces with their skilled hands. I watched Mary in the mirror—how the light played on her cheeks, how her hair framed her delicate features. She looked breathtaking.
"You two don't look like sisters," one of the stylists remarked as she worked on my hair. "Are you sure you're related?"
We both laughed and nodded.
"You're both beautiful in different ways," she added, eyeing me thoughtfully. "You must be Maya, right?"
I nodded again.
"You should join a beauty pageant. You've got the look—and I heard you're smart, too. That's a rare combination."
I chuckled, embarrassed. "I'm not really pageant material. That world isn't for me."
"You're underestimating yourself. Seriously, if you ever change your mind, here—" she handed me a calling card, which I accepted shyly. "I know people who can help train you."
"She won't call you," Mary cut in with a teasing grin. "People have been trying to convince her for years. I've begged her myself!"
I shot her a playful glare, but my heart warmed at her unwavering support. She always believed in me—sometimes more than I believed in myself.
Ariana returned just as we were finishing. She was stunning in her backless lavender gown, her long hair curled to perfection. She looked like royalty.
"Wow! You both look amazing," she gasped, clapping her hands. "Mary, you're glowing! And Maya—oh my God. That gown looks like it was made for you. It brings out your skin and your shape. You're going to turn heads tonight."
"Thank you," I said quietly, still adjusting to the version of myself I saw in the mirror. "You look like a princess, Ariana."
She beamed. "Then let's not keep the ballroom waiting. I want my grandfather to see me before the opening toast."
We followed her out of the room, our heels clicking softly on the marble floors. As we descended the wide staircase, I tried to calm the fluttering in my chest. My nerves were tangled with anticipation, because somewhere in that crowd of elegance and power… I knew he would be there.
Adonis.
My childhood crush. My tormentor. My secret heartbreak.
I hated him. I hated the way he made me feel. And still, part of me hoped—foolishly—that he might look at me tonight and finally see more than the poor girl next door.
That hope scared me more than anything.