Chapter3
542 Words
Do you share a room with your ghost? That’s not survival. It’s gradual devastation.
Eva gazed at the door to the guest bedroom, scared to touch the handle.
It was larger than her whole apartment. Clean. Cold. No warmth, no softness, just like the man who now slept two walls away.
She sat on the edge of the bed, hands shaking as she opened Elijah’s medical folder again. Maxwell had said thirty days. Thirty days to tell him everything.
She had already told him too much, and somehow, not enough.
She held her phone in her hands. She typed a message to her sister. “Made it. He knows. He’s angry. I’m okay.” But never pressed send.
A quiet knock startled her.
She stood. Opened the door.
Maxwell’s assistant stood in the hall. Perfect posture. Indescribable face.
“Mr. Xavier asked me to give you this.”
Eva opened the envelope. It wasn’t money.
It was a contract.
A personal agreement. Thirty days. In exchange, he would cover Elijah’s full treatment at the private Swiss clinic.
Clause #4 stopped her cold:
“No deception. If any lie is discovered, the contract is null and void.”
She signed because she had no choice.
Meanwhile, Maxwell watched the security feed.
Eva, signing the contract. Clutching her chest. Holding back tears.
He should’ve felt satisfied.
But all he felt was emptiness. Five years ago, she broke him. Now she was back with a child she had never told him about and stories that made no damn sense.
And yet he saw the way her hands trembled when she looked at Elijah’s photo.
Either she was the best liar alive…
Or she was telling the truth.
He needed proof. He’d find it. Until then, she would stay where he could see her.
The next morning, Eva entered the breakfast room, expecting silence.
She saw Maxwell at the end of the table, reading a newspaper like a scene from a nightmare.
She sat across from him, avoiding eye contact.
“Did you sleep?” he asked, with his eyes fixed on the newspaper.
She didn’t answer.
“I asked you a question.”
“I don’t owe you small talk,” she said softly.
His eyes snapped up.
There it was her voice again. Quiet, but with teeth.
He set the paper down. “No. You owe me the last five years.”
“I have given you my reasons.”
“You gave me excuses.”
Eva stood. “You want to punish me, Maxwell? Fine. But let’s make something clear: I’m not the girl you left behind. I’m here for my son. Not your approval.”
Maxwell smiled. Cold, but intrigued.
“There she is,” he said quietly. “The Eva who used to challenge me in chess and never let me win.”
Eva blinked. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything I lost.”
The room was still.
Before she could say anything, his phone buzzed. He looked at the screen, then back at her.
“Get dressed. We’re going out.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Where?”
Maxwell stood. Buttoned his jacket. Walked past her like she didn’t matter.
“To meet your son,” he said.
- Writer
