
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 5
Maya's P.O.V
Alessandro leads us across the road and into a narrow lane. About a hundred meters in, he stops in front of an Italian restaurant called Mama Leones.
The building was a shade of brick red with a few cracks on the wall. Must've been an old place. The place was wide and open, not crowded tourists or anything. On the other end of the restaurant, there was a small garden. It was beautiful. Clusters of daisies were peeping through both sides of the fence, and the sun was shining through the trees. There was a welcoming of scents in the air as we walked inside.
I stood and gazed at the building before me in awe. It radiated a warm feeling that made it seem like you were eating at home.
The room was split into two big tables of eight chairs. Everyone moved steadily around the room and took their seats while I stayed standing and hesitating. Unlike the rest, I didn't have any friends here while everyone had their individual groups.
I decided to wait for all the seats to be taken and just sit on the spare chair that nobody sat on. I could feel the employees staring at me as I remained standing by the entrance. Probably noticing the lack of friends I had.
"Maya!" a voice hollers out. I turned around to see Ethan looking at me. It wasn't just Ethan, but now, it was also everyone around him. Some had a confused look plastered on their faces at why he was calling my name. To be completely honest, I was just as confused as them.
I finally managed to control my legs as I tentatively walked over to the seat he saved for me.
"Sit here." He said and pulled out the chair for me.
She instantly narrowed her eyes at him, like she was sending him a warning. Ethan realized immediately, but he looked utterly unaffected by it. His hands were still on the chair, and his face was holding a slightly crooked smile as he waited for me to sit down.
I took my seat and turned to Ethan. "Are you sure they're okay with me sitting here?"
"Why wouldn't they be?"
"I don't know, birds of a feather flock together?" I said.
"You and your phrases again," he smiles, "just so you know, we all have very different personalities."
Ethan continued. "Plus, we're not that shallow, you know."
I silently scold myself for having such selfish and stereotypical thoughts. Great, now he probably hates me.
"I didn't mean it like that," I muttered out, trying to hide my anxiousness.
"They aren't that bad once you get to know them." He looks at me and tries hard to cover up his half-smile. I guess he cares about his boys. What I didn't understand was how could someone like Ethan, gentle and caring, associate himself with such a group of assholes.
"I don't think that'll ever happen." I awkwardly laughed.
He gave me a disapproving look before shaking his head vigorously.
"Hey everyone," he called out, "this is Maya."
Their eyes were all on me as I swallowed the last of the water in my glass before smiling back at everyone.
His friend grinned back. "Yeah, we know dude. She's in our literature class."
My immediate reaction was to hang my mouth down in shock that he actually knew who I was even though I've always sat in the back. But I protested against that and let out a giggle instead.
When Leighton put her phone down, she sat for a few seconds before turning her head over to me. "Why aren't you sitting with your friends?"
A cheeky smirk grew on her friend's face. "Wait, isn't Leah your only friend?"
"Why aren't you sitting with her?" Leighton asked.
"Are you guys in a fight or something?" Another girl butts in.
I suddenly felt like they were interrogating and mocking me at the same time. It was a natural instinct of mine to stay silent and look down. Leighton's eyes roamed around the room then landed back on me. "Oh, that explains why you're sitting here. She's in the other group."
Her friend butts in again. "Don't you have other friends?"
They clearly knew I didn't and was trying to embarrass me in front of everyone. I frowned, trying to think of an appropriate reply but nothing came to my mind. I was too busy worrying about what everyone else was thinking at this moment as Leighton and her friends turned my non-existent social life into a laughing stock.
"Obviously not." One snickered quietly, but still loud enough for me to hear.
My mind wonders about Ethan. He must feel embarrassed that he invited a friendless loser to come to sit with him. I was definitely not the cool, smart Maya that aced every class. More like boring, old Maya who has nothing else to do but study on the weekends.
They said a few words to each other that I couldn't catch, but I knew it was something negative about me. She took a sip of her lemonade with her perfectly manicured nails on display.
I would've started drinking my water to ease out the tension and awkwardness that I felt, but my cup was empty. I didn't know what I was more disappointed at, myself, or the fact that I was never going to be enough to be with someone like Ethan. He was in a completely different world from mine. He was Hercules, walking around the school like a God. And I was Meg, the femme fatale. Except I wasn't attractive nor seductive.
If only I had Leah's confidence. If it was her, she'd probably tell Leighton to write it on a piece of paper and shove it up her ass.
I felt Ethan's arm brush against me as he shifted his position, now facing Leighton and her friends.
"Don't you have anything better to do than be a bitch all the time?" He replied darkly.
Leighton's smile turned into a straight line. I could tell she was doing her best not to shoot lasers out of her eyes at me. As for her group of minions, they all had the same surprised expression plastered to their faces. His friends glance from one to another but don't say anything.
Ethan was looking at her with adamant seriousness. I bet she never once felt threatened by him until today. The fact that he swore at her was enough to make her stay quiet for the rest of lunch.
I couldn't help but grin as relief washes over me. Though being in the same class with him for years now, I've only heard him swear a handful of times. This must be one of the very rare occasions where he feels the need to. Ethan has been nothing but nice to me ever since we started talking, and I have to admit, it feels great to have someone be there for you.
The boys still looked shocked that he was defending someone he barely knew and also at the fact that he cussed at Leighton. I couldn't blame them. I was just as shocked too.
I gave him a grateful smile. "You didn't have to do that."
"But I did." He said stubbornly.
"Thank you."
His mood lightened as he laughed lightly. "You have to admit. I was quite intimidating."
I chuckled. "Whatever you say."
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."
"Don't listen to what Leighton says. You do have a friend here."
I stay quiet, trying to think of who he could be talking about. As far as I knew, the only person I talked to was Leah.
"It's me," he says, "I'm your friend and I won't let Leighton and her friends speak ill of you. It was uncalled for."
I gave him a small smile and thanked him once again.
Conner stood up and came over to talk with us about the Colosseum as we waited for the food to arrive. With my head tilted forward slightly to listen better, I was amazed at how I could engage in a conversation with Ethan and Conner without much difficulty.
Our convo of three turned into a whole table discussion, excluding Leighton and her girls as they talk about the next outfit choice. Connor was speaking more freely and enthusiastically than the rest, but that was probably because he was the Student Council President and was used to public speaking.
It wasn't long until the food came out and onto the table. Everyone's mouth was watering from the delightful smell and taste of the food. From saucy pasta, potato gnocchi to calzones that melted in your mouth, I felt like I just died and went to food heaven. The Caprese with the tomatoes and mozzarella had a fresh and light taste to it. To top off our fantastic meal, they gave us free ice cream as dessert. It felt like eating in my Grandma's kitchen.
"This is so good," I said, taking another bite of the calzone.
"You say that after every bite you take." He chuckled
I feel the heat rising around my cheeks while raising a smile. "I just have an undeniable love for food."
"Is that so?"
"I have another phrase for you," I said, "live to eat, not eat to live!"
He looks at me with a big smile on his face. "You are one interesting girl."
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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.