Maya's POV
I woke up early, despite barely getting any sleep. I had spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, thinking about Adonis again—Adonis, the only boy who ever made my heart race… and ache. No matter how many times he shattered it, some stubborn part of me kept holding on.
Still, morning came, and I pushed the thoughts aside. I cooked breakfast quietly, careful not to wake Mary, then sorted the laundry. We had a waterline at home, but I still preferred washing clothes by the stream. It wasn't just to save on the water bill—it was peace, nostalgia. A ritual.
The river in San Antonio was crystal clear, always cool and clean thanks to the townspeople who cared enough to preserve it. Most of the neighbors washed their clothes along the riverbank, and I'd grown up doing the same. It was part of me—like muscle memory.
As I prepared to leave, a soft knock echoed from the front door.
"Good morning, Maya!" Ariana's cheerful voice greeted me as I opened it. She stood on the porch in running shorts, a racerback top, and rubber shoes, her cheeks glowing from the morning breeze. She looked like she had just stepped out of a lifestyle magazine—gorgeous as always.
"Good morning, too," I said, startled. "What are you doing here this early?"
She grinned and held up a small paper bag. "I went for a jog and thought I'd drop this off. I missed jogging here—there's nothing like the peace in San Antonio. Also… aren't you going to invite me in?"
I stepped aside, trying not to feel self-conscious. Ariana had been to our house countless times, but I never got used to the contrast between her world and mine. She lived in a mansion with chandeliers and marble floors. We had bamboo benches and cement walls—but never once had she made me feel less than.
She sat down comfortably. "Where are you off to?"
"To the river. I'm doing laundry today."
"What?" Her eyes widened in horror. "Are you serious, Maya? You have a waterline! You can't be serious about washing clothes in the stream."
"I like it there," I replied with a small smile. "The water's fresh and cold. Plus, it helps lower our bill."
Ariana stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "You're impossible. Move aside—I'm helping you."
I laughed. "You? Laundry? You'll ruin your perfect hands."
"Oh, please. Just because I'm the granddaughter of Don Miguel Monleon doesn't mean I can't scrub a shirt. I can cook. I love baking. And don't forget—you taught me the basics."
I smiled at that. "I remember. You nearly burned your first batch of rice."
"And now I make cupcakes like a pro," she shot back with pride. "Anyway, we need a girls' day. I'm planning a small party—just our usual crowd."
I forced a smile. Ariana meant well. But I didn't want to go. I didn't have the clothes, the mood… or the heart for it.
"You don't have to remind me," I said softly. "You've always been different from the others, Ariana. You've never treated me like I'm beneath you."
"And I never will," she said sincerely.
"Better get back to your jog before the sun rises higher," I teased.
But she lingered, looking around with a deep, peaceful sigh. "I love it here, Maya. No matter where I go—New York, Paris, Manila—I always long to return to San Antonio. The breeze, the trees, the scent of sugarcane and soil… It keeps me grounded."
"I understand," I replied. "I think I was born to love this place."
I looked out at the banana and pineapple plantations stretching far beyond the fields, the early sun casting gold on the green. It was beautiful—simple, yet sacred. Our town was blessed.
Don Miguel Monleon—Ariana's grandfather and Adonis's as well—owned everything in sight. The hacienda. The cacao and coffee plantations. The factories. But despite his wealth, he remained grounded, loyal to the people. He never forgot the roots of his empire: the farmers.
Because of his generosity, our family had a roof over our heads. One of the staff houses within the estate was ours, granted to my grandfather Bert, one of the longest-serving farmhands. He had worked for Don Miguel's father, and now for Don Miguel himself.
All I ever wanted was to finish college, become a civil engineer, and give Grandpa the life he deserved. To make sure he never worked another backbreaking day.
"Maya?" Ariana's voice snapped me from my thoughts. "Are you okay? You looked miles away."
I shook my head and smiled. "I'm fine. Just thinking. I should go, though. Madam Esmeralda is expecting me at the flower farm."
Her expression fell. "Why not stay in our estate instead? I'm here now. I thought we'd catch up."
"You know I love working with flowers," I said gently. "And I've already committed to the job. But I'll make time for you and Lisa—I promise."
Ariana's pout melted into a grin. "You'd better. Promise?"
"I promise, Ariana Monleon."
She hugged me before jogging off down the dirt path, hair bouncing behind her. I watched her go with a smile tugging at my lips.
Then, I picked up the basin of clothes, balanced it on my hip, and began the familiar walk to the stream—heart a little lighter, the morning sun warming my skin.
It was Saturday—early enough that the mist still clung to the trees like a dream not yet shaken off. The river was quiet, almost sacred in its stillness. No one else was around, and I was thankful for the solitude. I needed it. I had barely slept, tossing and turning all night with thoughts I wasn't proud of.
Of him.
I dipped another shirt into the cool water, scrubbing harder than I needed to. The river had always been my place of peace. Of reflection. But this morning, I wasn't at peace. I was restless. Angry. And most of all—ashamed that even after everything, my heart still betrayed me at the memory of his face.
Then I heard them.
Voices. Male voices. Close.
Too close.
My body stiffened. I was so absorbed in my task, I hadn't noticed their approach. The air shifted. I turned my head slowly, and my breath caught in my throat.
Adonis Monleon.
And his cousin, Jake.
They were both shirtless, water bottles in hand, and wearing nothing but board shorts. I blinked, once, twice—because for a moment, I thought I was hallucinating. I had seen him just yesterday, but something about seeing him like this, half-naked and gleaming in the soft morning light, made my pulse trip over itself.
Jake was attractive—tall, with an easy grin and golden skin. But Adonis… Adonis was carved from something else entirely. Broader, darker, sharper. His body looked like it was sculpted from sun and shadow. Muscles taut, chest rising with slow, controlled breaths. My gaze dropped before I could stop myself.
And of course, he noticed.
"Loving what you see, Maya?"
That voice. Smooth. Arrogant. Always a little too amused.
I said nothing. What could I say? That yes, I was still hopelessly drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even when I knew the burn would be fatal?
He stepped closer, eyes never leaving mine. "Well, I'm glad you're here," he said coolly. "I want to make one thing loud and clear: there's nothing between us. What happened last year—it was a mistake."
My stomach dropped.
He didn't stop there.
"I won't apologize, because let's face it—you enjoyed that kiss." His eyes narrowed, his lips curling into that cruel smirk I hated and remembered all too well. "But don't get any ideas. Don't fantasize about me anymore. When we were younger, I tolerated your stares."
Every word was a slap to my pride.
"I think the entire town knows I'm your forever crush," he added with a mock laugh, tossing the words like breadcrumbs meant to humiliate me. "But stop dreaming, Maya. I'm not interested. What could you even offer someone like me? You're poor. You think you're that beautiful?"
The world tilted.
My hands dropped the shirt I was holding. I stood up slowly, heart pounding in my chest like war drums. My whole body trembled—but not with fear. With rage.
And then, without even thinking, I raised my hand and slapped him.
Hard.
The sound cracked through the trees like thunder.
He flinched. His face turned a shade darker, my handprint blooming on his cheek like a brand.
I'd never struck anyone before. But in that moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
"You don't get to talk to me like that," I said, voice shaking. "Yes, I was a fool. I believed in you. I thought there was something good behind that smug face. But you know what? Thank you. Thank you for reminding me exactly what kind of monster you are."
He stared at me, stunned. No snarky comeback. No cruel grin.
"Every girl dreams of her first kiss," I continued, my voice rising. "And I spent years wondering what it would be like with you. I hoped—God help me, I hoped—it would mean something. But that kiss? It meant nothing. Because you're heartless. Arrogant. And you're not even half the man you pretend to be."
I took a step closer, eyes burning. "I may be poor, but I've earned everything I have. I've worked for every inch of my future. I didn't have parents. I didn't have choices. But I have my pride—and I won't let you take that too."
Still, he said nothing.
"Funny how Ariana turned out to be the angel," I snapped. "And you? You're the devil in disguise."
I could see it then—the change in his expression. Like I'd knocked the wind out of him. His eyes weren't cruel anymore. They were… confused. Hurt, even.
But I didn't care. Not anymore.
Without a word, Adonis turned around and walked away. Fast. Like he was running from something.
Jake let out a low whistle. "Damn, Maya. That was savage." He gave me a look of impressed disbelief before jogging after his cousin. "Hey, bro! Wait up!"
And then I was alone again.
I dropped back down to my knees, my legs trembling. The cold riverwater kissed my skin, but it was nothing compared to the fire in my chest.
"I hate you, Adonis," I whispered. "I hate you. I hate you so much."
The words echoed off the trees and the water like a prayer and a curse rolled into one.
And then, to my own surprise—I laughed.
And cried.
All at once.
Because for the first time, I wasn't the girl waiting on the sidelines. I wasn't the girl crushed under his smirk. I stood up. I fought back.
And God, it felt good.