Page 55 of HEARTSTORM

Nick stood under the spotlight, microphone in hand, a smug smile on his lips. His voice sliced through the quiet room.

"Nick Crawford," he began, as if his name alone explained everything. "Tonight isn't just about launching another luxury hotel. Tonight is about power—the kind most people only pretend to have."

I caught Maya's fierce gaze locked on him—it cut through him like a blade, so intense it felt like she might explode any second.

My hand stayed on her thigh, a silent reassurance that barely helped.

"As most of you know, behind every collaboration, there's always someone pushing the boundaries—someone in control." Nick's smirk deepened into something sharp.

At the word 'control,' I felt Maya's fingers tighten around mine. The rage inside her broke loose as she pushed her chair back and stood up.

"What—" I barely had time to react.

"Wait for me here," she whispered, her warm breath brushing my ear. She briefly rested her hand on my shoulder before storming off, her heels clicking purposefully against the floor.

I stood frozen, heart pounding, watching her cut through the crowd—head held high, shoulders squared—as if nothing and no one could stop her.

"So, here's to the Crawford name—one that will forever hold onto control," Nick concluded his speech with a confident grin.

He barely lifted his glass before Maya snatched the microphone from his hand, cutting off any cheers.

Something didn't sit right with me—he was too calm like he'd already planned this and expected her reaction.

The tension in the air thickened. Maya moved under the spotlight, a slow, sure smile on her lips.

"Ladies and gentlemen, most of you already know me—after all, the Russell name has been on your lips for decades." Her eyes calmly scanned the room, catching every nod of agreement. "Good. This new hotel will keep the same standards that made the Russell name famous."

Every word, carefully chosen, was meant to take back control—and it worked. The room hung on her every syllable, like her voice alone could change the whole story.

I smiled, completely captivated by her.

Until—

I felt eyes burning into mine. Not Maya's.

It was Nick.

Nick Crawford stood just a few steps away, his satisfied gaze fixed on me.

I tried to ignore him, but it was impossible. Especially when he quickly approached and stood right in front of my seat.

I pushed my chair back and stood up, my hands trembling slightly.

"What do you want?" I hissed.

"Grace, long time no see." He came closer, and I stepped back.

I tried to stay calm, to keep my face neutral, not to give my family a reason to notice anything was wrong. But the moment I felt him there, every muscle in my body locked.

My eyes searched for Maya, but from where she stood, she couldn't see Nick so close to me.

And I couldn't decide if that was better or worse.

"I don't wanna talk with you. Leave," I insisted, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Grace," he murmured, his tone smooth, almost caring—but I knew better. "You don't have to be like this. I never wanted things to get so... complicated between us."

"There's no us. Not now, not before, not ever," I said firmly. "Leave me alone."

Nick smiled, that infuriating calm dripping from his face, like my words didn't matter.

Maya kept going with her speech as I caught some of her words—

"Control," she said, half-smiling. "Such an easy thing to claim when you've never earned it."

"I don't think she's the one who should be talking about control," Nick said, his voice mocking.

"She is," I retorted, defensive.

"Oh really?" Nick laughed.

He leaned in, eyes locked on me.

"She didn't seem very in control a few days ago, when she made it clear to me that you two were... involved."

His words sank in as I tried to process them. They didn't even feel real.

"She didn't tell you, Grace?" He tilted his head ever so slightly, his voice laced with false concern.

I froze.

My mind went blank.

My whole body was crumbling, like the ground beneath me had just disappeared.

I don't even know which hurts more—that Nick told me, or that Maya lied.

"Don't worry, Grace, I won't tell anyone about this. I respect you," he said, smiling just enough to seem honest. "But Maya should've told you, don't you think?"

I felt my heart hammering, his words cutting through me, but I just couldn't respond. Not when everything in me was shaking.

I caught the last words of Maya's speech burning in my ear.

"The Russell surname will not stand back—not by chance, and not by anyone else's control." The room erupted into applause as the lights flickered back on.

"I'll leave you to think about that, Grace," Nick said, cutting into my thoughts. "I'm sure Maya will explain everything... eventually." With one last sly smile, he turned and walked away.

I grabbed the back of my chair, hoping it would ground me. It didn't.

I glanced up only to find Maya walking over, realizing Nick's presence.

The icy glare they exchanged said it all—they both knew exactly what was up.

Her eyes immediately searched mine.

"Grace," she said, grabbing my arm, but I stepped back. "What did he tell you?"

"You can stop pretending," I snapped, pulling away.

My mom and Victor looked at me, clearly lost in my outburst. I didn't care. I just walked away.

Maya followed immediately, reaching for my hand, but I pulled it back. I kept walking, pushing through the crowd harder.

"Grace, please stop," she said, her voice pleading as she walked faster and stopped right in front of me, blocking my path.

"You never stop and think about the consequences of your actions?" I demanded, my voice barely containing my frustration.

Maya's voice trembled as she answered, "I do think about it... more than you know. I'm trying, Grace. I'm really trying."

"It feels like you don't," I retorted.

"That's not true, Grace," she said firmly. "I think about you. Always."

"Do you, Maya?!" I shot back. "Because you have no idea how that made me feel—how he told me the truth you should've told me." My voice rose, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. "My God, I feel so stupid."

"You're not, baby," she said, her tone steady but cracking underneath. "Please, let me explain, Grace—"

"No," I cut her off, turning away.

Her face twisted in frustration. But I didn't mind—she looked just as desperate as I felt.

I kept walking faster until I reached the bathroom door, thinking about locking myself in to avoid her.

I slammed the door behind me, but Maya blocked it with her hand before I could close it. I pushed it, but she was stronger.

"Grace, stop. You could hurt yourself with those heels," I heard her voice behind the door—part suggestion, part command.

And that's what makes it worse. Because even when I'm mad—I still hear that softness in her voice.

I scoffed, but then noticed how smooth the floor was. I felt myself start to lose balance. I loosened my grip, and Maya calmly stepped in, locking the door behind her.

"You shouldn't have locked it. There are guests—it's rude, Maya," I said sharply.

"They'll get over it—this hotel is mine," she said, stepping closer.

I scoffed again, folding my arms, not backing down.

"Grace, I need to talk to you," she said, her voice firm and insistent.

I glared at her. "So you keep lying to my face?"

"Believe me, I didn't want to." She paused, searching my eyes. "I just wish you'd understand why I had to do it."

"I can't," I forced out, stepping back as my chest tightened. "You broke your promise, you pretended, you lied. And for what?"

Maya stared at me, her eyes glossy with something that looked a lot like regret and pain.

"For putting us at risk with a few reckless words?" I choked out, my voice breaking.

Her body stiffened as she took a ragged breath. The tension was unbearable—it felt like everything was shattering beneath us.

"Nick Crawford manipulated us, Grace. That—" her jaw clenched as she let out a sharp sigh. "That asshole said awful things about you, and I couldn't... I just couldn't stay silent and let him talk about you like that."

Her eyes burned as if the weight of it all still pressed on her. For a moment, she looked away, hiding the hurt.

Her vulnerability made me want to hug her—but I still couldn't move. Not after everything.

Maya finally looked back at me, her eyes searching mine for some kind of reassurance.

"He pushed me over the edge—until I couldn't take it anymore and I lost it. So yes—I did claim you as mine." Her tone was much firmer now.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why did you lie?" I said, my breath hitching.

"Because, Grace—" her voice broke, raw and unsteady. "You were so happy about the job, about us, about everything... I didn't want to ruin that for you. You didn't deserve it."

I felt my walls crack, piece by piece, but I still couldn't let go of the hurt. Not completely. And God, I felt awful.

"I just wanted to protect you," Maya whispered, her voice softly cracking.

"I need a moment." The words caught in a sob as I turned to face the wall.

I can't look at her. If I look at her, I'll break in a different way.

The room went quiet, but I could hear Maya's breathing quicken like a fragile tremor.

"I would do anything to earn your forgiveness, Grace. Just please don't shut me out. I couldn't handle it." Her vulnerable voice completely broke through my defenses.

My legs shook, and I leaned the palm of my hand against the wall as a few tears slipped down my face.

I felt her hand gently graze my arm as I sank to the floor, curling up on my knees. Maya went down with me, cupping my face in her hands.

"I'm sorry... I didn't think it would hurt this much," I whispered, more tears slipping down as Maya wiped them away with her thumb.

"You didn't deserve any of this, Grace. I am so sorry." She held me tighter. "I'm the one at fault, not you. Don't cry, please."

Her voice was so gentle and pleading, and it made something inside me crack open.

I wrapped my arms around her waist, needing her close as she kissed my tears away and pulled me into her arms, letting me bury my face in her chest.

"Can you forgive me?" she asked, her fingers gently brushing my hair. "I don't want to lose you, Grace," she breathed.

"You're not losing me," I said firmly, hugging her close.

We let the silence surround us, both of us clinging to the fragile peace we'd found in each other's arms.

"It's not your fault, Maya," I broke the silence.

"Grace..."

"Kiss me," I said, and she didn't let me say it twice—her lips crashed into mine, soft but desperate, tasting the salt of my tears still lingering.

Her tongue moved slowly at first, brushing against mine with a kind of aching softness—then deeper, needier. I gasped into her mouth and she swallowed my desperate sound.

Her hands held my face, pulling me even closer, like she was trying to make all the hurt disappear with that kiss. And she did.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too," I replied.

I melted into her, my fingers clutching the fabric of her dress, not wanting to let go.

"It's not your fault, Maya," I repeated. "It's Nick Crawford's."

I rethought everything that had happened tonight, and suddenly—it all made sense.

"His speech wasn't planned," I said.

"Yes—and he did it on purpose," Maya replied.

"So he'd get a reaction out of you and use it to manipulate me," I concluded.

That bastard set it all up.

Maya took my hand and helped me stand up. "You know that he's fucking dead now, right?"

"He was already dead," I corrected her. "We're done with him, understand?" I said firmly.

"But—"

"No buts, Maya," I said, wanting to end this once and for all.

She huffed loudly at my words, clearly disagreeing, as if I had just ruined whatever plan she had in mind.

"He's not going to separate us, Maya," I said softly, my fingers brushing her cheeks.

"He won't," she looked into my eyes. "He doesn't even stand a fucking chance."

We both looked at our reflections in the mirror, steadying ourselves against the damage he had caused.

"We're a little shaken," I said, exhaling slowly.

Maya met my eyes in the reflection, pressing her body against mine and grabbing my waist. "But far from ruined."