Heartstrings and Heartbreaks

Maya Beckham was Oscar Francis's first love. After four long years abroad, she had assumed any feelings he once held for her had turned to dust. Yet when she returned to Elminas, he proposed. Everyone swore Maya was the love of his life—his one true love, his everything. Touched beyond words, she finally gathered the courage to say yes. …Until the day she discovered Oscar secretly marrying her half-sister, Diana Beckham. She stormed toward him like a woman possessed, her voice trembling with rage. "Explain." Oscar met her fury with infuriating calm. "You vanished without a word four years ago. Diana stayed. Now she's dying—this is her last wish. How could I refuse?" Maya's lips curled into a faint, unreadable smile. What Oscar didn't know? She was the one diagnosed with a difficult illness back then. Later, Maya got into an accident and forgot Oscar entirely. Oscar broke down. Day after day, he pounded on her door like a madman, begging her to remember. Chapter 1 The moment Maya Beckham saw Oscar Francis at the wedding—dressed to perfection, standing beside her half-sister—her mind went blank. Just thirty minutes earlier, Diana had called, sweetly inviting Maya to come attend her wedding with Oscar. Maya had felt an inexplicable tightness in her chest and rushed over without a second thought. She was led into a private dressing room, and what she saw nearly knocked the breath from her. Oscar—her fiancé—was crouched beside Diana Beckham, meticulously smoothing the hem of her wedding gown with the kind of care and devotion that should have belonged to a groom. They looked every bit the picture-perfect couple about to walk down the aisle. The room was filled with wedding portraits—dozens of professionally lit photographs featuring Oscar and Diana in white lace, staged embraces, and manufactured bliss. Something inside Maya cracked. Her eyes welled with heat as she demanded, her voice trembling, "Oscar, didn't you say you were going back to your hometown this week? What are you doing here?!" At the sound of her voice, Oscar froze. The easy smile on his face vanished. "Maya… why are you here?" he asked, his voice cautious. Even as he spoke, he instinctively stepped in front of Diana, shielding her from view as though Maya were some kind of threat. That look—sharp, guarded—struck Maya like a slap. "My fiancé is marrying another woman, and I'm not supposed to be here?" she said, her voice breaking, her body swaying from the emotional blow. Oscar pulled Diana even closer behind him. The look in his eyes now was cold, detached—he was the calm, rational man, and she, the emotional woman making a scene. Outside, the emcee's voice could be heard urging the couple to come forward. The wedding was about to begin. With barely a pause, Oscar grasped Diana's wrist and turned to her with a soft murmur. "You left without a word four years ago. It was Diana who stayed by my side. Now she's terminally ill. All she wants is to marry me. I'm only fulfilling her last wish. Please… just go. I'll come back once the banquet is over." Maya let out a hollow and bitter laugh. She looked past Oscar to Diana, who flashed a smug and victorious smile. The memory hit her like a wave. Four years ago, it was that same voice, Diana's, whispering poisonous words in her ear, convincing her to walk away. Maya had inherited her mother's congenital heart condition. Her chances of recovery had been slim. Still, she hadn't wanted to leave Oscar. But at the time, Oscar's business had been in shambles, one crisis after another. He was drowning in responsibilities. That was when Diana had made her an offer. "If you leave, I'll ask my mother to help Oscar. Think about it. Staying will only make his life harder." And so Maya had left quietly, believing she was helping him. Now, four years later, Diana had taken her place. And Maya had somehow become the villain in Oscar's eyes. Chapter 2 "Oscar, I had my reasons for leaving back then. I can explain everything to you," Maya pleaded, swallowing the lump in her throat as she tried to suppress the flood of emotion rising in her chest. "Can you just come with me, please?" She was trying—desperately—not to let it all end like this. Not after all these years. Not after growing up together, not after over a decade of feelings that had matured from innocent childhood affection into something deep, unwavering, and impossible to shake. Oscar had long become the one constant in her heart—the man she could never forget, no matter how hard she tried. She held on to one last flicker of hope, the faint idea that maybe—just maybe—Oscar would believe her. Just like he used to. But this time, his voice carried a trace of something new. Something cold. Something impatient. "I'm not here to argue about the past," he said flatly. "And I'm not blaming you. But Diana is your sister. She's so weak now—couldn't you show just a little compassion for her?" Maya stared at him in disbelief. Oscar, who had once stood firmly on her side, was now chastising her? Her eyes widened as the tears spilled freely. Compassion? She and Diana had never been close. In fact, they had been locked in silent warfare for most of their lives. She still remembered it clearly: the day Diana's mother had strutted into their home like a queen, fully aware she was the other woman. The insults. The provocation. The smugness. Her mother, already weakened by illness, collapsed from the shock. Even the doctors couldn't save her. Maya had only been eight years old when she lost the only person in the world who loved her unconditionally. Oscar had known all of this. Back then, he had sworn he would stand with her—that they would face the world together and avenge her mother's pain. But as they grew older, Maya had learned to swallow her grief and buried her resentment deep within herself, trying to maintain the illusion of peace. But now? Now, Oscar wanted her to accept the daughter of the woman who destroyed her family as his bride. And he wanted her to be understanding? That one sentence broke something inside her. She thought of her mother, gasping for breath on a hospital bed. And she remembered the vow she had made at that very moment: she would never repeat the same tragedy. She would never let another person trample her heart like that. Let alone compete endlessly with Diana for the same man. "Fine," she said. "Then I won't bother you two anymore." She gave him a faint smile and turned to leave. Oscar's expression faltered. He stared at her back like he wanted to stop her, but he didn't move. "Wait!" It was Diana who spoke first, her voice honeyed with cruelty. She wore a thin smile, the kind that never reached the eyes. "Maya, it's my wedding day. It wouldn't be complete without your blessing. Why don't you attend the wedding? It'll mean so much to me." Maya's hands curled into fists at her sides, her fingernails digging into her palms until they drew blood. The pain was sharp—but not as sharp as the nausea roiling in her gut. "I'm not feeling well," she said stiffly. "I'm sorry." She thought Oscar would step in. He had to. But he just stood there, arms crossed, saying nothing—as if sulking, or worse, silently agreeing with Diana. Diana, emboldened by his silence, smiled even more sweetly. "It's okay. I brought my private physician just in case. You have nothing to worry about. And if you still refuse to attend the wedding… well, I'll have to assume you don't really wish us well. That you don't want to help me fulfill my final wish." Maya let out a soft laugh. So many years had passed, but Diana's manipulative games were just as childish—and just as pathetic—as ever. "Fine then," she said, tilting her head toward Oscar. "Why don't you decide? Do you want me to witness your wedding or not?" It was one last chance. A final lifeline she was willing to offer him. But Oscar didn't look at her. He was too busy letting Diana cling to his arm. Diana tilted her pale face up to him. And in the end, his heart softened. "If that's what Diana wants, then… you should come. After all, it's just for show," he said blandly. "I owe her too much. So please, be the bigger person. Alright?" Whatever last shred of hope Maya had held onto disintegrated in that moment. She stared at him, silent for several seconds, then nodded slowly. "Alright," she said. "I'll attend the wedding." 'Let this be my punishment, for the way I had once disappeared without a word,' Maya thought. 'After today, I'll return overseas. And I'll never see Oscar again.' Chapter 3 After walking into the venue alongside them, Maya spotted several familiar faces—close friends she and Oscar had known for years. And just like that, the atmosphere turned unbearably awkward. "Maya, please don't be upset… Diana's illness really can't wait," someone murmured, trying to sound earnest. "Yeah, we all know today's wedding is just for show, so please, don't take it to heart," another chimed in. So they all knew. Every single one of them had known that Oscar was marrying Diana. Yet not one of them had told her. And now, they were standing there, urging her to understand. To be the bigger person. To smile and nod and make peace with betrayal. Maya gave a quiet, expressionless nod. "I know." She never imagined that in the four years she'd been gone, everyone around her had quietly drifted toward Diana's camp. The creeping realization left her hollowed out and bitterly amused. When the wedding ceremony began, Oscar and Diana stood beneath the soft, golden lights, gazing into each other's eyes. They followed the emcee's instructions to the letter, every movement choreographed, every vow uttered with polished precision. And then, Oscar pulled out the ring. A customized Harry Winston diamond ring. Maya's heart clenched. Oscar wouldn’t have chosen that brand lightly—he knew exactly what it symbolized: an eternal commitment. And the resolve in his expression… it wasn’t fake. So he'd already made his choice long ago. Then why? Why had he sought her out the moment she returned? Why had he ignited old feelings if he had no intention of honoring them? She forced herself to keep it together, willing the ceremony to end so she could finally leave this charade behind. And then came the final act: the kiss. The emcee, eager to hype up the crowd, prompted Oscar and Diana to kiss. Oscar hesitated and glanced over at Maya. She wasn't even looking at him. She was scrolling through her phone with cool detachment, as if the entire spectacle before her were nothing more than background noise. A wave of irritation surged through Oscar. Since when had Maya become so composed? The old her would have stormed off in a fury if he so much as chatted with another woman. Yet now he was literally marrying her sister, and she was just… playing with her phone? Why wasn't she breaking down? Why wasn't she fighting for him? That strange unease in his chest tightened. But before he could say anything, Diana tugged his arm, gently urging him back to the moment. Meanwhile, Maya paid them no mind. She was browsing flight tickets—desperate to leave, but frustrated to find no departures available for the next few days. She didn't want to stay here, not a minute longer. The doctor had specifically advised her to keep a balanced diet, remain calm, and avoid stress. None of those were remotely possible in her current state. And then, under the cheers of the crowd, Oscar caved. He leaned in and kissed Diana. Maya glanced up at precisely that moment. And yes, her heart twisted sharply—but only for a second. She took a deep breath, grabbed her bag, and turned to leave as quietly as she could. But just as she reached the edge of the stage, Diana's voice rang out. "Maya," she called sweetly, "I'd love for you to say a few words of blessing. This is the final part of the ceremony—you wouldn't refuse me, would you?" Once upon a time, Maya might've flown into a rage, refused to be humiliated, perhaps even slapped Diana across the face. But now? Now, she simply set her bag down and walked up onto the stage. "Of course," she said calmly. "I'd be happy to give my blessing." She turned to face the guests. "I wish Diana and Oscar a lifetime of love and happiness together. May your marriage be filled with joy, and may you be blessed with a beautiful family in the years to come." She paused. "Is that sufficient?" A visible shadow crossed Oscar's face. He stepped forward abruptly, grabbing her wrist with a hint of desperation. "What do you mean by that?" he snapped. "Can you stop being so unreasonable? How many times do I have to explain? This whole wedding—it's just for show. Once it's over, I'm yours. Isn't that enough?" The emcee stared blankly at the trio onstage, clearly bewildered by the unfolding drama. But Maya yanked her hand free and took two steps back, her gaze icy. "Oscar," she said coolly, "what makes you think I'd ever want a man who's already married? You're married to my sister now—so act like it." Chapter 4 Oscar was practically seething with rage. But with so many guests watching, it would be catastrophic to cause a scene. He swallowed it all down, barely. And right on cue, like a well-rehearsed drama, Diana played her part to perfection. "Maya, don't argue with Oscar anymore, okay? He's really been torn up about all this. While you were gone… he couldn't even sleep some nights because he missed you so much—" "Enough," Oscar cut in sharply. He reached out to take her hand with a show of sudden tenderness, subtly signaling the emcee to continue the ceremony. "Let's just move on." Maya, standing a few feet away, saw right through him. She had known Oscar too long, too well—his tells were etched in her memory like lines in stone. He was angry. But unlike the past, she had no energy left to soothe him. Without another glance, she turned and walked out of the venue. Back at what used to be their shared residence, Maya sighed. Her father's health had been declining over the past few years, and the household had effectively been taken over by her overly ambitious stepmother. So when she returned to Elminas, she never once considered going back to the Beckham family home. She had rented a modest place on her own, something quiet and tucked away. But Oscar had insisted—dragged her, really—into staying at his place. Now, standing amidst half-packed boxes, she began methodically folding her things. The irony wasn't lost on her. Had she known this return would turn into such chaos, she'd have declined Oscar from the start. It had been over a month since she moved in, and she had made this place feel like a home. It took her a full three hours to sort everything out before moving out. By the time she lay down on the bed in her new apartment, her body was aching and her mind was drained. Sleep swallowed her whole almost instantly. In her dreams, she was back in university again. She remembered those days so clearly—the thrill of youth, the giddy rush of love. They had gone to different universities, but every weekend, Oscar would take the metro all the way to see her, no matter how far. By graduation, the stack of tickets he had collected could rival the thickness of a novel. She used to crave the sound of his voice teasing her, lifting her out of her studies or her melancholy. Later, when she was ill and alone overseas, it was these memories that kept her afloat. They were her anchor in the storm. Eventually, she'd met someone new—Charles Barrett. A chance encounter turned ally, turned perhaps something more. With his connections and quiet influence, he helped her find treatment and recover. And yet… every day, her thoughts drifted back to Oscar. Charles had always been attentive, always there with the perfect gesture at the perfect moment. She felt flustered by his care, often unsure of how to respond. For the sake of that bright, youthful love she once had, she had turned him down. Not once. Not twice. But six times. And after the sixth, she'd made her decision. "I'll wait for you one last time," Charles had told her, his voice unusually fragile. "If he treats you badly… or if he's already chosen someone else, then come back to me. Try being with me, just once." Charles had no shortage of admirers. He was handsome and rich. He didn't need to chase anyone. But he chased her. And maybe that's why she sighed then—because in that moment, she realized they were the same kind of people. Stubborn. Hopelessly so. She woke with her cheeks damp, the residue of her dreams clinging to her skin. She had cried in her sleep. Quietly, Maya wiped her tears away and swung her legs off the bed. She thought about making something to eat. But just as she stepped into the hallway, a strange sound from outside the door made her freeze. Her stomach dropped. She had picked this apartment in a rush. The building wasn't exactly top-tier, and the security? Questionable, at best. Could it be a burglar? Instinctively, she reached for her phone and typed out a message to Oscar for help. A moment later, his reply came: [You're really using something like this just to trick me now? I'm with Diana. Stop making a fuss, okay?] The words hit her like a slap. She stared at the screen. Since when did she ever joke about something like this? Maybe he just didn't want to come. Maybe that was all. She muted his messages and was about to call the police when— A lazy, familiar voice drifted through the door. "Maya… you awake?" Chapter 5 It was Charles. Maya visibly relaxed the moment she saw him. "What are you doing here? I never told you where I moved." Charles gave a low chuckle. "Since when have I ever needed you to tell me what I want to know? If I hadn't shown up, someone might've bullied you to death already." Both Charles and Maya hailed from Conlay City—though their stations in life couldn't have been more different. The Barrett family was not only the wealthiest in Conlay City but a political dynasty with fingers in every pie imaginable. Charles, as the heir to this empire, could uncover the secrets of royalty if he wanted. Locating one woman was child's play. Maya pressed her lips together, equal parts annoyed and touched. After a quick tidy-up, she followed him out to the living room and stopped short. There he was, Charles, the devilishly handsome princeling of Conlay City, wearing a frilly pink apron with cartoon bunnies, carrying a steaming tray of food. It was such a ridiculous mismatch that Maya, despite her turbulent mood, let out a surprised laugh. "Tell me you made the ribs I like? I'm starving." She flopped unceremoniously into a chair at the dining table, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. Abroad, she'd had the pleasure of experiencing Charles's cooking firsthand. The first time she tasted the ribs he made, she'd nearly cried. "You're supposed to be a pampered heir. How do you even know how to cook like this?" Charles winked. "If I told you I learned just to take care of you, would that move you to tears?" Back then, she'd dismissed his words as some elaborate joke—until she once caught him hunched over a tablet, watching amateur cooking tutorials and scribbling notes like a diligent student. He had spent hours attempting new recipes just to make meals she might like. "I didn't manage to get ribs today, so you'll have to settle for what I could put together," he said apologetically. Maya nodded and dug in, clearly disappointed but too hungry to care. Charles sat beside her, watching the way she devoured the food, feeling a pang in his chest. Just a month away, and his little foodie had wasted away. She was thinner. Paler. And exhausted in a way that no amount of sleep could fix. And still, she pined for Oscar. Charles's jaw tensed. The reports he'd received from his well-placed sources had already told him everything. Oscar had let Diana pull her usual petty tricks, completely blind to the manipulation right in front of him—and worse, he'd allowed those tricks to hurt Maya. The moment Charles heard, he'd abandoned all his appointments, left his overseas meetings hanging, and flown straight back to Conlay City. Maya needed him—damn the consequences. And she was such a fool. Just before returning home, she had subtly, almost pitifully, hinted that Charles should consider investing in Oscar's business. But Charles had already done his research. Oscar's company was crumbling from the inside out—glossy on the surface, hollow within. It was but a failing empire clinging to past glories. "Charles, I'm still hungry," Maya said, crumbs clinging to the corners of her lips. Charles chuckled and leaned in, wiping them away. She froze, a flicker of emotion flashing across her face before she quickly turned away. "I can do it myself," she mumbled, embarrassed. Her feelings for Oscar might have withered, but she didn't want things with Charles to move too quickly. It felt… like cheating. Like using him as a backup plan. And she wasn't that kind of girl. Charles didn't mind. Unbothered, he got up to head back to the kitchen, planning to cook something else for her. Just then, the doorbell rang. A familiar voice came crashing through the door—loud, frustrated, self-righteous. "Maya, why didn't you tell me you were moving? What kind of tantrum is this? What did I do wrong this time? Four years ago, you ghosted me. Disappeared without a word. And now you're doing it again? I'm human too, you know! Do you even care how I feel?" Oscar sounded like a man utterly unaware of the gravity of his own sins. In his mind, all he'd done was help Diana fulfill a harmless little dream. Surely that didn't warrant Maya's dramatic exit? Yes, he'd snapped at her a little. Said some things in anger. But right after that, he'd panicked and rushed home to check on her. Instead, he was greeted by an empty apartment and a single note on the table: "Goodbye." Cursing under his breath, Oscar had gotten in his car and driven like a madman, determined to find her. Chapter 6 Maya furrowed her brows, just about to speak, when Charles got to the door before she could even make a sound. "Who are you?" he asked casually. Standing there, face like thunder, was Oscar. The moment he saw a strange man answering the door, his expression darkened as if a storm had broken over his head. "I'm Maya's boyfriend," Charles said smoothly. "Is there a problem?" Oscar froze for half a beat. Then his face turned the color of bad wine. "Boyfriend?" he barked. "What nonsense is this? Maya, come out here and explain this to me right now!" Inside, Maya had heard every word. Of course, she had—Charles's declaration was clearly for her benefit. She stepped forward, her voice calm but warning, "Charles, don't mess around." "I'm not," he replied, turning his head to look at her, his eyes unwavering. Oscar was losing whatever composure he had left. "Maya, what is going on here? Explain it to me!" Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. How could she explain without making either of them look bad? She didn't want Oscar to misunderstand her, but she also didn't want to embarrass Charles, who was clearly standing up for her. "What's there to explain?" Charles said with a derisive laugh. "The truth's right in front of you. I've been chasing her for years, and she's finally agreed to be with me." Oscar's fists clenched. A vein throbbed at his temple. "Say that again?" "Did I stutter?" Charles lifted his chin with theatrical defiance. "I said, Maya is my girlfriend now. You're not welcome here, so stop harassing her." That was it. Oscar snapped. His fist flew, aimed straight for Charles's face. But Charles was faster. He dodged easily, and with a fluid motion, returned the punch with one of his own. It landed squarely on Oscar's jaw, sending him stumbling backward, clutching his cheek. "You hit me?" Oscar looked as if he couldn't believe it. "Damn right I did," Charles said. "That's for bullying Maya." Maya panicked the moment she saw them come to blows. Without thinking, she rushed forward and threw herself between them, shielding Oscar. "Stop it! Both of you, just stop!" The moment she did, Charles's fist froze midair. He looked at her—standing protectively in front of another man—and his eyes dimmed. She turned quickly, her gaze darting to him, trying to explain. "Charles, that wasn't what I—" "There's no need to explain," he cut her off, his voice cool now, almost distant. "I get it." He turned, walked back into the apartment, grabbed his coat, and left without another word or glance. Maya stared after him, her heart sinking fast. She hadn't thought—her body had simply moved on instinct. She hadn't meant to hurt him. "Charles!" she called, rushing after him. "Wait! Let me explain." He stopped, but didn't turn around. "No need. I know who you still care about." And with that, he walked away. Maya stood frozen in the hallway, guilt twisting inside her. She didn't even know how to begin fixing this. Charles had always been so good to her. She knew that. And yet… She couldn't deny that her heart was still tethered to Oscar, no matter how much she wished it wasn't. And that—more than anything—was unfair to Charles. Behind her, Oscar was still standing awkwardly by the door, watching everything. There was a strange, sour look in his eyes. "Maya, I…" "Leave," she said sharply, cutting him off. "I don't want to see you." "What did you say?" Oscar looked stunned. "I said, I don't want to see you." She turned to face him, her voice cold and final. "Go. And don't come back." His face fell. "Maya, don't be so heartless, I—" "I said get out!" Her voice cracked into a full scream. It wasn't calculated—it was raw, emotional, shattering. "Did you not hear me? Leave!" Oscar was taken aback. He'd never seen her like this. Never seen her break like this. "Get lost!" This time, the word came like a thunderclap. Oscar flinched, then turned away. He walked slowly down the hallway, never looking back. And as soon as his shadow disappeared from view, Maya's tears broke free. Back inside the apartment, she collapsed onto the sofa like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Her shoulders trembled with silent sobs. She didn't know what to do anymore. She couldn't face Charles—not after this. Not after the look in his eyes. He had always been there for her. And she? She was still hung up on a man who didn't know how to love her properly. It wasn't fair. Not to Charles. Not to herself. And then the doorbell rang. She jolted, annoyed, assuming Oscar had come back again. "What now?" she snapped, wiping angrily at her tears. "It's me," came a familiar voice. She froze. It was Charles. Heart racing, she sprang up and flung the door open. "Charles, you—" "I was too impulsive just now," he interrupted gently. His voice was calm, his expression softer than she deserved. "I'm sorry." Her throat tightened. "No… Charles, I'm the one who should apologize." He looked at her, unwavering. "Maya, I like you. I've always liked you. You don't have to give me an answer right away. I can wait." A warmth bloomed in her chest, fighting back the cold ache of guilt. She knew Charles wasn't just saying it. He meant it. Every word. "Charles," she murmured, meeting his eyes with newfound clarity, "I'll think about it seriously." He smiled then. "Good. I'll be waiting." Chapter 7 When Maya finally checked her phone, she was met with a barrage of unread messages—every single one of them from Oscar. She didn't reply. Instead, she quietly selected the entire chat thread and deleted it. Since she had made the decision to let Oscar go, she would do it properly—one step at a time. That evening, Charles was at her side, accompanying her on a leisurely shopping stroll. Her phone rang again—this time, it was a call from a mutual friend. "Maya," the voice on the other end sounded panicked, "I don't know what happened to Oscar. He must've gone through something intense today. He drank way too much. We can't wake him up no matter what we do. Could you maybe come over and check on him?" She paused, her eyes narrowing. She was just about to refuse politely when Charles, who had overheard the conversation, gently pressed her hand and gave her a look—one of those unreadable but decisive glances that said: Say yes. Maya hesitated. She didn't know what sort of trick Charles was playing at, but with a slight wince, she agreed. "Alright. Send me the location." Meanwhile, at the bar across town, Oscar—who had been nervously awaiting a response—couldn't stop the smile from curling across his lips when he heard she was coming. She was willing to come see him. That had to mean something, didn't it? She must still care. He leaned back, replaying the memory of Maya scolding him earlier that afternoon, all for Charles's sake. That sting still lingered on his pride. So tonight, he was going to put on a show—play the drunken, tragic fool, just to make her feel a little guilty. Maybe she deserved a taste of her own medicine. "Oscar, are you happy now?" his friend grinned beside him. "Didn't I tell you? Maya's heart has always been yours. There's no way she could like someone else. Who else could possibly match up to you?" Oscar chuckled inwardly. That much was true. Back in university, Maya had been pursued by more than her fair share of rich, eligible young men. Every heir with a trust fund had tried his luck. But she'd always kept her distance, never once giving him reason to feel jealous. Not even a flicker of doubt. But oddly enough, as he sat there now, Oscar's mind flashed with the image of Diana in a wedding dress earlier that morning—her delicate figure, the way the light caught the veil. He quickly shook the thought away and forced his focus back to Maya. It was only about fulfilling a promise, he reminded himself. There was never any real emotion. No danger of falling for someone else. He might've been harsh with Maya today, but he had a clear conscience. He had never wavered. Whatever feelings he had for Diana were nothing more than sympathy—a sense of duty, gratitude for someone who had stood by him at his lowest. And as for Diana's mom's wishes to see their families joined through marriage? That would never happen. Not if he had any say in it. … Meanwhile, Maya was being ushered into Charles's car. "You're not planning to beat him up again, are you?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously as he started the engine. "Charles, maybe we shouldn't go at all." With a sly grin, Charles hit the lock on the doors and leaned in until his lips were nearly brushing her cheek. "Oh, I'm definitely going to beat him up," he teased, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I've been dying for some catharsis." Maya gave his face a playful jab with her finger. "Stop messing around. Seriously—why are you so insistent that I go pick him up?" Charles leaned back. "Because I want you to see for yourself what kind of guy he really is. And then, maybe—finally—you'll be done with him for good." With that, he casually silenced his phone, turned onto the main road, and headed straight toward the bar. Chapter 8 By the time Maya and Charles arrived at the bar, a strange anxiety was already gnawing at Maya's chest. She hadn't wanted to come. She shouldn't have come. But Charles's earlier words had planted a seed of suspicion in her mind—what if he was right? What if Oscar was just faking the whole thing? Another calculated performance just to lure her in for a reunion? With a queasy breath, she stepped through the doorway of the private suite. And what greeted her wasn't the sight of a pitiful, drunken ex-lover—no. It was something else entirely. A woman's moan. Breathy, sultry, unmistakable. A muffled gasp. Then came the sound of bodies moving in a way that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Maya went rigid. In that one second, all the blood drained from her face. She shoved open the door, and the scene lay itself bare—there was Oscar, pressing his entire body down against her half-sister. Oscar's lips locked with Diana's in a passionate, fevered kiss. "...Maya..." Oscar's voice slurred through the haze of intoxication—still murmuring her name, as if she were the one under him. The irony was sickening. And then there was Diana—oh, Diana—with her faux-innocent smile curling into something far more venomous. The moment she caught sight of Maya standing at the door, her eyes lit with a victorious gleam, a challenge that didn't even bother to disguise itself. "Maya, what a surprise! Oscar said he was drunk and needed someone to pick him up, so... here I am. Don't get the wrong idea, okay?" In the corner, Charles raised a brow. Well, that was fast. After all, he was the one who had deliberately fed the message to Diana. His aim was simple: expose Oscar for what he really was. A man who said one thing, did another, and thought he could keep both women orbiting around him like moons circling a sun. Except this "sun" had clearly been drugged—Charles could see it now. Oscar didn't look drunk; he looked sedated. The flushed skin, the slightly unfocused eyes—it reeked of something chemical. Still, Charles's eyes drifted toward Maya, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of worry. But to his surprise, Maya didn't cry. She didn't scream. She didn't even blink. Her gaze barely lingered on Oscar. And then she exhaled, slow and icy. "Great. Enjoy yourselves." Without waiting another second, she grabbed Charles's arm and turned to leave. Behind them, Diana's voice rose in a syrupy whine. "Oscar... not so rough..." Maya's stomach flipped. She quickened her pace. They had barely stepped out of the building when the nausea hit her in full force. She bent over, clutching Charles's arm, retching dryly into the night air. When she finally lifted her head, her cheeks were wet with tears. Charles's heart twisted. He hated this. Hated seeing her like this. But he also knew—it had to be done. Only something this devastating could finally shatter her illusions about Oscar. Only something this grotesque could wake her up to who he truly was. Later that night, Diana sent a message. [Maya, Mom's already working on convincing Oscar's dad about our engagement. I don't think you'd want to make this whole thing uglier than it needs to be, would you? Stay away from Oscar for a while, okay?] Maya stared at the text. Then, without a word, she blocked Diana's number, as if blocking out the noise could somehow mute the chaos in her heart. For more than a decade, she had grown up with Oscar, shared secrets and birthdays and tearful adolescent confessions. Their bond had once felt like it would last a lifetime. Now, piece by piece, it was unraveling. She walked forward, slowly. Stumbling. As if her legs no longer belonged to her. And then, just like that—everything went black. A blinding flash. And suddenly she was seventeen again, Oscar approaching her in his school uniform, calling out her name like he always did. "Maya..." "Maya!" Except now... it wasn't Oscar's voice anymore. It was Charles's. She tried to open her eyes. Tried to reach for him. But she couldn't. She was sinking, deeper and deeper, into the darkness, and this time... she didn't know if she could come back. … Elsewhere, Oscar finally stirred awake. His head pounded. His limbs felt heavy. As his eyes adjusted to the morning light, he realized—this wasn't his bed. And next to him... wasn't Maya. It was Diana. He shot up like he'd been burned. "What the hell—why are you here? Where's Maya?!" Diana sat up with a face full of hurt. "You're really still thinking about her?" She sniffled, then gave a trembling sigh. "She never came to get you last night. She called me instead. Said if I didn't show up, you'd be left at the bar all night. You came at me the moment I arrived…" Oscar's mind reeled. "No—no, I didn't... I didn't... Shut up!" he shouted, scrambling to find his clothes. His heart was racing—no, thundering—with panic. He had to get out. He had to explain. He had to find Maya. But as he reached the door, Diana threw herself at him, barefoot and desperate, clinging to him like a lifeline. "I love you too! Why won't you ever see me? Why do you only look at her?" Oscar froze. For a moment, he looked as though he might falter. But then he shook her off, his voice ragged. "Stop. You know it's impossible. You know this was never going to happen!" And just as he reached for the doorknob— It opened from the other side. Standing there was Mary Colridge, Diana's mother. She looked down at him with a gaze that could slice through steel. "Before you say another word, Oscar," she said coolly, "you might want to take a look at this." She handed him two things: A confidential project file—the kind that Francis Group couldn't survive without. And a set of photos. The photos were taken this morning. Photos of Charles, quietly looking after a pale, unconscious Maya in a hospital bed. "Without Diana, your precious Francis Group would've gone bankrupt long ago," she said, her voice honeyed with poison. "And now you want to chase after that slut who abandoned you last night? You have to choose, Oscar. Diana… or Maya. If you pick Maya, you can kiss your company goodbye."