Always Be Mine
Ever since she could remember, Maya Connors has always been the smart, shy girl that sat at the back of the classroom. She tackled every task with a boundless zest, except when it came to boys and relationships. Being eighteen and never once had a boyfriend, she was adamant that it would stay the same until she graduated.
But sometimes, you have to expect the unexpected - such as falling for Ethan Morrison, a boy who was way too handsome and way too out of her league.
Despite coming from very different social circles, a school trip to Europe was all it took as to her dismay, she found him incredibly charming.
But when Maya ventures out of her shell and falls too deep, she realizes that it's too late to go back. With her heart laying on the line, she's about to face a whirlwind of emotions, drama, and secrets.
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Chapter 3
Maya's P.O.V
I didn't even need an alarm to wake me up. As soon as I felt the slightest hint of sunlight shine through my curtains, my eyes were already wide open. If it were any other Monday, I would have groaned and rolled back to bed, but today wasn't just any other Monday. Today is our trip to Europe.
Sliding off the bed, I skipped my typical morning routine and headed straight to the bathroom. There wasn't any time to mess around. I half-curled the ends of my hair and changed into some comfy sweatpants and a v-neck shirt.
I was, without a doubt, the most forgetful person in the world, which meant I had to double-check everything before I left the house. Rummaging inside my suitcase and mentally ticking off all the things I needed, after feeling satisfied, I went down to the kitchen for the most important meal of the day.
I poured some coffee from the counter and checked my phone.
Eighteen unread messages from Leah.
Apart from reading the very first message she sent at 4 am saying she couldn't sleep because she was too excited, I ignored the rest and just called her. It was too early for any reading or thinking.
Leah picked up almost immediately.
"Oh my god," she shrieked through the phone, "it's finally happening!"
I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "Yes, it is."
"Have you packed everything?"
Leah scoffs. "I already started packing two weeks ago."
"The packing checklist wasn't even given out two weeks ago."
"Who cares? I just used common sense."
She doesn't allow me any time to reply before cutting me off. "Anyways, I'll pick you up in 20 minutes!"
I didn't even realize my mom was standing at the island, her chocolate-brown hair a little messy. She grinned, her eyes brightening as she smiled.
"Good morning, darling."
"Morning, mom."
She turns off the coffee machine after pouring herself a cup. "Since when did you drink coffee?"
I rolled my eyes and sat down next to her on the island. "It's normal for teenagers to drink coffee, mom."
"Are you excited about your trip?"
I nodded excitedly.
For the next ten minutes, I sat and listened to my mom ranting about how I always need to stay with the group and not wander off by myself. She gave me a paper with a list of emergency contacts just in case anything happens. There was her, my dad, my aunt, my uncle, my other uncle, and Ms. Wilson's number on the paper.
Aside from being overprotective, my mom could be very demanding and frightening when she needs to be. I folded the paper just enough to fit my pocket before giving my goodbyes.
I give both my parent a kiss as they remind me to call and update them regularly. I looked down at my phone to check the time, and it was exactly twenty minutes since our phone call.
Almost immediately, I heard a car honk in front and smiled. This is why I love the fact that we're both punctual people. I pushed open the front door and dragged my suitcase behind me.
We were all supposed to meet in front of the school gate at precisely 7 am.
"Do you have everything?" Ms. Wilson asked, simultaneously ticking off our names on the name list.
I nodded.
An hour after seven, everyone was finally here. Ms. Wilson muttered something under her breath as she called everyone over. She was irritated about the students that showed up late.
"I see you don't own a watch?" Ms. Wilson said to Leighton. Not at all bothered, she pushes a wisp of blonde hair from her face. "When fashion calls, you have to answer."
"The next time you don't answer when I call, I'm leaving you behind with the rest of the people who came late."
Leighton's eyes widened at Ms. Wilson's harsh tone.
She pointed at the bus and told everyone to get in. That was my cue to follow. The bus door opened and I stepped onto the stairs. I tried to get on the bus before all the seats got taken so I could sit in the front. The once empty chairs were now filled with students. As Ms. Wilson does the attendance for the last time before we head to the airport, a series of "present" or "here" came up after she called out a name.
Leah pops up over to the seat next to me, a huge grin plastered onto her face. "I can't believe this is happening!"
I mirror the same excitement she gave me. "I can't believe I'm going to Rome for the first time."
"You'll love it," she says, "I've been quite a few times, and I must say, it's favolosa."
That was the difference between us. She was funny, charming, and traveled to many places. Her mom is like one of the most famous dentists and is responsible for the smiles of many famous Hollywood celebrities. To say the least, she was loaded.
She laughs and holds her fingers together, kissing it like what you see the Italians did in the movie.
"What does that mean?"
"It means fabulous!"
We spent the next twenty minutes planning what we were going to do during our free time. Ms. Wilson went first, as always, and told us to get our suitcases and head inside.
My eyes followed the direction that Ethan was walking. Swallowing, I met his bright eyes, and my stomach sunk. I'm at a loss for words. He was wearing dark sweats and a white v-neck shirt. I tried not to stare, but our eyes met for a second time. Dear God, I hope I wasn't turning into a tomato.
"Of course, it makes sense that a literature major would go on a trip to Europe," Ethan said, granting me a dimpled smile
"What does that mean?" I raised my eyebrows.
"Well you know, Charles Dickens, Ernest Hemingway, Virginia Woolf, Jane Austen, they're all famous European writers."
I didn't know what surprised me more, the fact that he knew all those names or that he made names of 19th and 20th-century writers sound so sensual.
"What?" he spoke again, "are you surprised that I know who those writers are?"
"Maybe a little."
"As you said, don't judge a book by it's cover," he said, sending me a wink.
Ethan was no longer looking at my direction, but I could see Leighton turning to stare at us with a growl. She whispered to her friends, and I could feel them turn to stare at me.
I sank on my seat to avoid unwanted attention.
Our gate finally opened, and we all lined up with our passports ready. I was still busy thinking about how he knew all those names. With a shove from Leah, I move up the boarding line. My passport clenched between my hands as we all waited to board the plane.
The flight attendant grabbed my carryon bag and shoved it up the cabin along with the other bags. We moved forward to clear the aisle. I moved away from the seat to let Leah go first as she slid into the chair beside the window.
I remember she told me she always liked sitting next to the window to look at the clouds because it made her feel like a bird. I didn't quite understand it, but as long as she was happy.
Her fingers intertwined with mine as our plane took off. I look over to see her eyes squeezed shut. I couldn't help but let out a chuckle at her nervousness. Even after being on hundreds of flights, she was still scared of them.
Before I knew it, I was fast asleep on Leah's shoulder as she rested her head on top of mine. After a long eleven hours, we finally landed in Rome, Italy. I didn't even notice how quick it took, mostly because we slept for the whole flight. By the time we woke up, everyone had already eaten and was full and fast asleep. Us, on the other hand, had to put up with our rumbling stomachs.
Leah had a massive grin on her face, and I smiled at her excitement. We both strolled through the aisle, and moments later, we were standing in line outside the immigration. The tour bus was waiting outside for us as the driver put our suitcases inside the trunk. It was a cute bus, bright red with the words "I heart Roma" printed on the side.
Ms. Wilson tore through the group of students and stopped next to the tour guide. "Everyone standstill, I'm going to count you off."
After she confirmed that everyone was here, we all went onto the bus and drove to the hotel. Another thirty minutes later, we arrived in front of a large white hotel that had a Moorish fountain placed in the middle. Around it were arches of roses, hibiscus, jasmine and about twenty other types of flowers. It had Renaissance-style architecture.
As we got off the bus and gathered our suitcases, a beautiful woman opened the door for us and greeted us. She was holding a tray full of drinks.
Before any of us managed to grab it, Ms. Wilson cut us off. "Is there any alcohol?"
"No ma'am, its lemonade."
Our tour guide gave us a quick tour of the hotel. The hallway was a dark red color with some green detailing which complimented well with the creamy white walls.
I was finding it hard to wrap my mind around how beautiful Rome was, and we haven't even gone anywhere yet. The hotel was already enough to amaze me. My head was moving in all sorts of directions as I tried to soak in the beauty of the city. I couldn't wait to find out more about the culture and history.
Our tour ended back in the lobby as Ms. Wilson was sorting out the rooms and giving us our keys. Room 304.
"Get some rest, or explore the hotel. We will meet back here tomorrow at 7 am for our first activity."
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9.5
I was a disgraced heiress hiding as a dishwasher in a high-end club, scrubbing lipstick off glasses until my fingers went numb. One night, I was forced to deliver a bottle of vintage whiskey to the penthouse, only to find the tech billionaire Kenan Cervantes collapsing from a lethal neural storm. I used my surgeon’s training to save his life, holding him in the dark until his fever finally broke.
The next morning, the world I knew shattered. My coworker Tiffany, who hadn't even stepped foot in the room, claimed my identity as the savior. She signed a non-disclosure agreement and walked away with a $200,000 check, while I was accused of stealing the whiskey and had my entire month's wages forfeited as punishment.
While Tiffany was flaunting Chanel suits and posting photos from his balcony, I was being shoved into the mud by my abusive foster father in a dark alley. I watched from the shadows as Kenan stepped into his luxury car, looking right through me with nothing but cold distaste. To him, I was just "street trash" cluttering the sidewalk, while the imposter was the "angel" who had stabilized his heart.
The injustice felt like a physical weight. I had quieted the noise in his brain and kept him from the brink of death, yet I was the one facing eviction and hunger. I didn't understand how he could be a genius and still be so blind to the truth, rewarding a thief while I rotted in the basement.
Everything reached a breaking point when Tiffany forced me to sneak into his penthouse to help her maintain the lie. But Kenan returned from Tokyo early, finding me on the terrace with his military-grade protection dog. The beast that had tried to bite Tiffany was now resting its head in my lap, protecting me from its own master.
Kenan dropped his briefcase, his eyes locking onto mine as the fragmented memories of the storm finally clicked into place.
"You," he whispered.
7.9
June was an ordinary architect struggling to pay rent, completely estranged from her high-society mother.
But one night, she was kidnapped and beaten in an abandoned warehouse by Gage Becker, the city's most ruthless billionaire, who demanded payback for her mother's sins.
Gage pointed a high-definition camera at June's battered face and video-called her mother, threatening to release the footage and ruin her upcoming billion-dollar wedding.
"I will never throw away a billion-dollar marriage for a useless daughter."
Her mother's cold voice echoed through the warehouse before the line went dead.
From that moment, Gage systematically destroyed June's life. She was publicly humiliated and forced to hack off her own hair with a cigar cutter. She was blacklisted from every firm in the city, evicted by her landlord, and violently mugged in a freezing New York blizzard.
Curled up in an icy tunnel waiting to die, June felt a suffocating despair. She hadn't spoken to her mother in months. Why did she have to endure this hell for a woman who didn't even care if she lived or died? Why was a monster like Gage so obsessed with driving her to the grave?
When Gage's armored Maybach pulled up, he stepped into the snow to mock her, waiting for her to finally surrender and beg for his mercy.
But the absolute humiliation snapped the last thread of June's sanity.
Instead of crying, she lunged forward with feral energy and sank her teeth directly into the devil's flesh.
8.1
Terminally ill.
Betrayed by her husband.
Abandoned by the only family she had.
Ariel died with nothing... and no one.
But fate gives her a second chance.
Reborn three years before her death, she walks away from the man who ruined her life-and takes back everything they stole.
Her love.
Her identity.
Her power.
Now, the cold billionaire who once ignored her can't take his eyes off her.
The brother who abandoned her starts to regret.
Too late.
Because this time, Ariel isn't the woman who begs.
She's the one who makes them kneel.
9.2
For three years of their secret relationship, Claire was sure Carsten would never let her down.
But she overestimated herself and underestimated the hold his first love had on him.
Three years of devotion ended with him suggesting she marry someone else, saying, "In six months, after your divorce, I'll marry you."
Heartbroken, Claire walked away and vowed to never betray her new husband.
What started as an arranged marriage blossomed into something real.
Carsten, desperate, searched endlessly for her-only to be met by a nobleman who protected Claire and their unborn child, telling him to let go.
9.2
Arla was supposed to marry Clinton Freeman, the perfect fiancé who had promised to love her and protect her five-year-old son.
But instead, the cold steel of a dagger pierced her chest.
As she collapsed onto the freezing basement floor, she watched her adoptive sister Blair laugh.
"Look at her," Blair sneered, kicking her son's small, blue, lifeless body.
Clinton stood there, calmly wiping the bloody blade on a pristine handkerchief.
In her dying moments, the horrifying truth became clear. Her fiancé and her adoptive family had been plotting all along to steal her massive trust fund.
To break her, they had secretly tortured her child. Clinton had watched Blair pierce the little boy's arms with sewing needles, rewarding him with candy to keep him silent.
Arla's lungs burned with the taste of copper and ash.
She couldn't understand why the family she trusted could be so monstrous, or why they had to brutally murder an innocent child just for money.
The darkness swallowed her whole, drowning her in suffocating hatred and absolute despair.
Then, she gasped for air.
The concrete floor was gone, replaced by the silk sheets of a hotel penthouse suite.
Arla had been reborn to the exact night six years ago—the very day Blair first dragged her son into the dark attic.
This time, she picked up a solid silver letter opener, ready to burn them all to the ground.
7.7
Alondra spent three hours making soup for her husband, only to find him at the hospital tenderly holding another woman's hand.
"I'm four weeks pregnant, Gerard," the woman said softly.
Gerard coldly handed Alondra a divorce agreement, claiming their three-year marriage was just a placeholder because this woman had once saved his life.
Heartbroken, Alondra fled in her car, only to realize her brakes had been completely disabled.
She spun out of control and crashed head-on into a massive delivery truck.
As she lay trapped in the mangled wreckage with her ribs crushed and blood filling her mouth, Gerard's black Maybach pulled up to the curb.
He stared at her dying body through the window with a completely blank expression.
He didn't call an ambulance or even open his door.
He simply rolled up his tinted window and drove away into the rain.
A raw, suffocating hatred burned in her chest, hotter than the pain in her shattered bones.
She couldn't understand how the man she had loved and served so devotedly could just coldly watch her die like a piece of trash.
Opening her eyes again, Alondra gasped for air.
She had returned to the exact morning two years ago, right before she was supposed to deliver that pathetic soup.
When Gerard walked in and threatened her with divorce, she didn't cry or beg.
"I agree. Let's divorce," she said calmly, packing her bags to reclaim her true identity as a billionaire heiress.