Jules bristled.
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
Lance's expression darkened.
"The man who's going to make sure you regret every choice you've made," he said coldly.
I tried to push past Jules toward the bedroom, but he shoved me back hard.
I stumbled, nearly losing my balance.
"Don't touch me!" I screamed.
Jules sneered.
"I already gave you your things. Get the fuck out, Maya. Or you'll get what's coming to you."
Bianca tugged on his arm, her voice trembling.
"Jules, just let her get her stuff."
"Shut up!" he snapped.
Bianca flinched.
I clenched my fists.
"You didn't pack my jewelry. My documents. My personal files. I want everything that's mine!"
Jules rolled his eyes.
"You're not getting shit, Maya. This is my place now."
Before I could respond, Lance suddenly stepped forward and grabbed Jules by the front of his shirt.
In one swift motion, he slammed Jules against the wall so hard that a framed picture crashed to the floor.
Jules let out a strangled sound, his eyes bulging in shock.
Lance's voice dropped to a lethal whisper.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
Bianca shrieked.
"Jules!"
I stood frozen, my heart hammering as Lance's fingers tightened around Jules's throat.
Jules tried to push him away, but Lance didn't budge.
"I'm only going to say this once," Lance hissed. "You're going to give Maya every single thing that belongs to her. Or I'll personally make sure your life is destroyed."
Jules choked out a garbled protest.
"L-let go of me!"
Lance leaned closer, his eyes blazing.
"You think I won't do it? You have no idea who you're dealing with."
Bianca was crying now, clutching Jules's arm.
"Please, stop! You're going to kill him!"
Lance ignored her completely.
I blinked back tears, my voice trembling.
"Lance… let him go."
Lance didn't move.
"Not until he agrees."
Jules gasped, his face turning red.
"Fine!" he croaked. "Take your shit! I don't care!"
Lance loosened his grip slightly.
"All of it," he growled. "Or I'll be back."
Jules nodded frantically.
"Okay! Okay! Take it!"
Lance released him abruptly. Jules crumpled to the floor, coughing and massaging his throat.
Bianca knelt beside him, sobbing.
Lance turned to me, his voice suddenly gentle.
"Go get your things, Maya."
I swallowed hard, wiping my eyes.
Then I shoved past Jules and Bianca and stormed into my bedroom.
My bedroom felt smaller than I remembered.
As soon as I stepped inside, the smell of cheap lavender air freshener and old wood hit me.
I stood there for a moment, frozen, taking it all in.
The single bed shoved against the wall. The cracked mirror above my plastic dresser. The small window with rain trickling down the outside glass.
This had been my safe space for four years.
And now… it felt like a coffin.
I shook myself and moved fast.
I flung open the cabinet and yanked out my small fireproof box, the one where I kept all my important documents birth certificate, college diploma, bank records.
Then I opened the top dresser drawer and pulled out a few pieces of jewelry my mother had left me a pair of small gold earrings, a delicate necklace, and a silver ring with a tiny diamond chip.
They weren't worth much money. But they were priceless to me.
From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a small stuffed turtle sitting on my bed.
Jules had won it for me at Star City on our first anniversary.
I stared at it for several long seconds, my chest twisting painfully.
Then I snatched it up and shoved it into my bag.
When I emerged from the bedroom, Jules was still sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. Bianca hovered beside him, dabbing at the small cut on his lip with a tissue.
Lance was standing in the middle of the living room, arms folded over his chest, looking every inch the powerful CEO.
The second he saw me, his eyes softened slightly.
"Got everything?" he asked.
I nodded stiffly.
Jules's eyes met mine. His glare was venomous.
"You think you've won something, Maya?" he rasped, his voice hoarse from where Lance had choked him. "Running off with some rich asshole? He'll drop you the second he gets bored."
Bianca flinched beside him.
Lance didn't even look at Jules.
Instead, he said coolly, "Be careful, Ramirez. I'd hate for you to have an… accident."
Jules's face paled.
I took one last look around the apartment.
Goodbye, old life.
I turned and headed for the door.
Bianca suddenly lunged forward, grabbing my arm.
"Maya, wait."
I shook her off roughly.
"Don't touch me."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I never meant for it to happen like this. I swear."
"Save it, Bianca," I snapped, my voice shaking. "I don't want your apologies. I don't want your excuses. You chose him over me. Over our friendship. And that's all there is to it."
Her lips trembled.
"I'm pregnant, Maya."
A wave of nausea rolled through me.
"I don't care," I said coldly. "You're dead to me."
Bianca's face crumpled, and she covered her mouth, sobbing quietly.
Jules called after me as I reached the door.
"You think this billionaire's your ticket out? Don't forget, Maya you're nothing without me!"
Lance moved faster than I'd ever seen.
He stalked forward, grabbed Jules's shirt again, and slammed him back against the wall.
Jules yelped.
Lance leaned in, his voice icy calm.
"She was everything without you. Remember that."
Then he released him with a shove and turned back to me.
"Let's go, Mrs. Villanueva."
My throat tightened at the name.
I shot Jules and Bianca one last look, swallowing back the bitter taste of heartbreak.
Then I followed Lance out the door.
Outside, rain was still falling, soaking the pavement and filling the air with the scent of wet concrete and diesel fumes.
Marco was waiting by the Range Rover, holding an umbrella.
He stepped forward to shield us both from the rain.
As Lance helped me into the car, he murmured, "Are you okay?"
I gave a sharp, bitter laugh.
"No. Not even close."
He nodded once, as if he respected the honesty.
"Good," he said. "I hate liars."
The SUV pulled away from the curb, leaving the apartment building behind.
I twisted in my seat to watch it recede through the rain-smeared glass.
That part of my life is over.
Lance reached over and gently pried my fingers off the strap of my bag.
"You don't have to hold on so tight anymore," he said.
I stared down at my hands, red and trembling.
"I don't know how to let go," I whispered.
He didn't reply.
Instead, he placed my hand on top of his and held it there as the city lights slid by outside the window.