Chapter Eight
1287 Words
Twenty minutes later, Gia stood outside Maxlarm Corporation, her stomach sinking.
This wasn’t just a company. This was the company—the most prestigious tech firm in the city. The building was a gleaming tower of glass and steel, imposing and intimidating.
And it was also the company where David worked. Where Christy worked.
“Mama, this building is so tall!” Sharon pressed her face against Gia’s leg, staring up at the skyscraper.
Gia’s first instinct was to turn around and leave. But Max needed his phone. And she’d promised herself she wouldn’t run from her past anymore.
“Come on, baby. Let’s go inside.”
The lobby was enormous. People in expensive suits hurried past, looking important and busy.
Gia approached the reception desk, Sharon’s hand clutched tightly in hers.
“Excuse me, I’m here to drop something off.”
The two receptionists looked up. Their eyes raked over Gia’s simple jeans and t-shirt, her lack of designer accessories, and their expressions turned dismissive.
“Deliveries use the service elevator,” one said coldly. “You have to go through the back.”
“Maxlarm prides itself on its image,” the other added with a sneer. “Get off the lobby before someone important sees you and your little brat.”
Gia’s jaw tightened. “I’m not a delivery person. My husband just left his phone at home. I figured he might need it at work.”
The receptionists exchanged glances and burst out laughing.
“Your husband?” The first one wiped tears from her eyes. “You expect us to believe you’re married to someone who works at Maxlarm? What’s his name?”
“His name is—”
“We’ll have to look it up,” the second receptionist cut her off. “We only know the names of people who are actually important to this company. Not someone married to the likes of you.”
“His name is Max,” Gia said firmly.
Both receptionists froze. Then they burst into even louder laughter.
“She’s Max Larson’s wife?” They clutched their stomachs. “Oh my God, that’s rich!”
Gia felt heat creep up her neck. “I didn’t say—”
“More like his cleaning lady,” one sneered.
“How do you expect us to believe that? You probably stole that phone and you’re returning it to get into his good graces.”
“Security! Security!” they shouted.
A small crowd was starting to gather—employees stopping to watch the commotion,.
Then a voice cut through the noise.
“Okay, what is all the commotion? You know this is Maxlarm, not a circus, right?”
Gia’s blood turned to ice.
A woman in a designer pencil skirt and sky-high heels approached the reception desk, her arms crossed. Her makeup was flawless, her hair styled in perfect waves.
Christy.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, Christy’s expression was pure shock—her face paling, her mouth falling open slightly. But she recovered quickly, her features smoothing into cold amusement.
“Gia,” she said slowly, drawing out the name. “You’re alive?”
“Christy.” Gia’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’m here to see my husband, Max. He works here. I’m not here to answer silly questions.”
“Mummy, who is this aunty?” Sharon tugged on Gia’s hand, looking up at Christy with wide, innocent eyes.
Gia forced a smile. “Baby, don’t worry. This is Mummy’s… friend from school.”
Sharon smiled brightly and walked toward Christy. “You want a lollipop, Aunty Christy?” She held up a bright red lollipop from her pocket.
Christy’s lip curled. She bent down, took the lollipop from Sharon’s small hand—and then threw it across the lobby, folding her arms.
Sharon’s face crumpled.
“Christy! Why would you do that?” Gia’s voice rose, drawing more attention from the gathering crowd.
“Only my friends call me Christy. It is Christina to you. You know, I almost didn’t recognize you, Gia. I guess having a mouth to feed keeps you from stuffing your own?”
The receptionists and security guards laughed.
Gia felt like she’d been slapped. “Why are you being so cruel?”
“Because you don’t belong here.” Christy stepped closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. “You brought me down in high school, Gia. You were the best student, got married to a rich man, had everything handed to you. Do you know how jealous that made me?”
“I thought we were friends,” Gia said, disbelief coloring her voice.
“Friends?” Christy laughed. “You were a stepping stone. And look at you now—pathetic, desperate, showing up here with some bastard child, claiming to be married to Max Larson of all people.”
“You’re ugly when you frown like that,” Sharon said suddenly
Christy’s hand shot up to hit the brat, and Gia moved on instinct—stepping between them, her body shielding her daughter.
“Don’t you dare raise your hand at my daughter.”
“I just want to give my Daddy his phone,” Sharon said, her voice trembling, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Your daddy is probably a janitor,” one of the receptionists called out. “Or trailer trash like you!”
“Don’t listen to her, baby.” Gia knelt down, pulling Sharon close and pressing another lollipop into her hands. “Take this and go sit on that bench over there, okay?”
Sharon nodded, sniffling, and walked to a nearby bench, clutching her lollipop.
Christy snatched the phone from Gia’s hand. “Let’s see who your husband has in his contacts. Then we can find out who the bastard really is.”
She scrolled through the phone, her expression shifting from smug to confused. “Wait… why does he have all these numbers? High-level executives, board members…” She looked up at Gia, eyes narrowed. “He works in security, right?”
“Yes,” Gia said, though doubt was beginning to creep in.
“Then he probably stole this information to make himself look like a big shot.” Christy’s smile returned, sharp and cruel. “You know what? My cousin is the chief secretary at Maxlarm. Why don’t we give him a call and see if he picks up from this nobody’s phone?”
She dialed the contact labeled Charles Kim and put it on speaker.
-----
In the executive conference room, Charles’s phone buzzed loudly in the middle of Max’s presentation to the board.
Every head turned.
Charles’s face went white. He grabbed his phone and declined the call without looking at the screen. “I’m so sorry, sir.”
Max’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes were cold. “Continue.”
***
“Yep, of course he declined.” Christy snapped her fingers at the security guards. “Take her out. She’s trespassing.”
Her eyes landed on Gia’s left hand. “No wedding ring. Should have known the kid was a bastard.”
Gia’s breath caught. She’d forgotten—Max had given her a ring, but she’d left it on the bathroom counter this morning, afraid to wear something so expensive.
“What, did you get knocked up by some guy on the street?” Christy’s voice rose, carrying across the lobby. “Oh! That’s why you got skinny. Skinny girls make more money on the corner. How much do you charge?”
The crowd erupted in laughter.
Gia stood frozen, humiliation washing over her in waves. She wanted to disappear. Wanted to grab Sharon and run and never come back.
- Writer
