My Friend's Arrogant Brother

Maya's POV

The road home felt longer than usual.

I walked slowly, the soles of my worn shoes pressing into the dusty path that stretched through the heart of our municipality's pridethe endless stretch of pineapple plantations.

On either side of the road, the jagged leaves of the fruitbearing plants waved gently in the breeze, glistening under the soft gold of the late afternoon sun.

San Antonio may not be industrialized or dotted with towering buildings, but it is rich in land and harvest.

It stands as one of the top suppliers of pineapples, cacao, bananas, coconuts, and vegetables.

In agricultural terms, it's the beating heart of the region.

The place might not have skyscrapers, but it has sprawling haciendas where millionairesand even billionairesquietly reside behind iron gates and treelined drives.

I slowed my pace, not only because my legs were aching from the twokilometer walk after graduation, but because something in the air felt differentthicker, heavier.

Then I heard it: the soft purr of a highend engine approaching from behind.

I turned my head and froze.

A gleaming red convertible sliced through the sunlight like it owned the road.

My mouth parted slightly in awe.

Even here, expensive cars weren't rare, but something about this one made it hard to ignoresleek, modern, with a shine that mirrored the clouds.

The car slowed and pulled up beside me.

The passenger door opened, and a woman stepped out.

Slender, radiant, and impossibly elegant.

Her porcelain skin glowed, her long black hair cascaded like silk, and her designer clothes hugged her figure with the kind of effortless perfection only wealth could afford.

I recognized her immediatelyAriana.

"Oh my God!

Maya, is that you?" Her voice was light and musical, echoing with excitement.

"You're still so beautifulyou've changed, in such a good way!" I blinked, stunned, unsure what to say.

She stepped closer, her eyes scanning me.

"You've got more curves now, especially there." She giggled and gestured to my chest.

"I swear, if I had your body, I'd be unstoppable!" I let out a small laugh as the shock faded.

Her sudden hug was warm and tight, and I melted into it with a mix of joy and disbelief.

"I missed you so much, Maya!" she whispered.

"I missed you, too." My voice was soft, fragile, but sincere.

I hadn't expected to see her todaynot here, not like this.

"I didn't change that much," I replied shyly.

"But you... You've grown into a beautiful, sophisticated woman." Ariana smiled and rolled her eyes.

"You're still too humble for your own good.

You know, too much humility can sound like false modesty," she teased.

"You're beautiful, Maya.

Period." A loud thud interrupted our moment.

The driver's side door slammed shut, and out stepped someone who made my entire world spin.

Adonis.

His name alone was like a spark.

He was tall before, but now he stood with a towering presence, at least 185 centimeters, his frame filled out in all the right places.

His dark eyes, once boyish, had become sharper, more intense.

His perfectly shaped lips were fuller now, darker, like ripe cherriesand I hated that a part of me still ached to kiss them.

What was wrong with me?

The memories came crashing back of everything he'd said, everything he'd done.

"Ariana!" he snapped, his voice deep and commanding, but still smooth, like the latenight FM radio hosts who made every word sound like silk.

"Come back to the car.

Why are you talking to her in the middle of the road?

I'm exhausted and I want to sleep." I stiffened.

So, nothing had changed.

He may have grown more attractive, but the arrogance was still the same.

The disdain in his tone stabbed through me like glass.

Even after all this time, he still looked at me like I was beneath him.

He always had.

Ever since I became close with his twin sister, Adonis had made it his personal mission to remind me of my place beneath him.

Beneath all of them.

He never missed an opportunity to humiliate me, whether with sharp words or icy glares that left no room for misunderstanding.

To him, I was a trespasser in a world built on old money, manicured lawns, and champagnecoated traditions.

And twelve months ago, he ensured I would never forget it.

He looked me in the eyesthose infuriatingly beautiful, soulless eyesand told me I would never be welcome in their world.

A flash of lightning split the sky above, followed closely by a rolling crack of thunder.

Ariana flinched beside me, instinctively reaching for her arms.

She'd always been afraid of storms, ever since we were kids.

I remember holding her hand once during a blackout at the hacienda, her fingers trembling as she asked me to sing to distract her.

But there was no warmth here now.

Just cold rain and colder words.

"Ariana, get in the car!" Adonis barked, impatience simmering in every syllable.

"We can't bring herit's a twoseater, and she's used to walking anyway.

Don't waste your sympathy.

She's not beautiful at all." His voice rang louder than the thunder.

And still, it wasn't just what he said.

It was how he said it.

Like I was a stray dog by the roadside, pitied for a moment and then forgotten.

A background character in the grand narrative of his life.

The words hit me like the rainsudden, sharp, and unforgiving.

Ariana glanced at me with guilt swimming in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Maya.

I'll call you later, okay?" All I could do was nod.

She hesitated, then slowly climbed back into the car.

She gave me one last lookone that said she didn't agree with her brother, but she wouldn't defy him either.

The red convertible peeled away with a roar, kicking up gravel and dust, leaving me standing motionless in the middle of the road, drenched in both rain and humiliation.

And that's when I realizedI hadn't moved on at all.

I told myself for the past year that Adonis Monleon no longer had power over me.

That I'd grown stronger, wiser.

That I could laugh at the memory of a boy who once toyed with my heart.

But standing there, soaked to the skin and stung by his words, I knew I'd been lying to myself.

Because it still hurt.

He still had that power.

He humiliated me again.

As easily as breathing.

And worse than the insult was the memory of the kiss that came before it all.

That night a year ago, when everything felt like a dreamhis touch, his warmth, his whispered words under the stars.

I thought it meant something.

I thought maybe, just maybe, beneath the arrogance, he saw me.

But it was all a game.

A bet.

A cruel, heartless dare between him and Jake.

One kiss to win.

One kiss to destroy.

And like a fool, I let myself believe in it.

Believe in him.

Today was supposed to be special.

My graduation day.

I should've been celebrating.

Smiling and running home to tell Grandpa and Mary that I finally made it, but instead, I was walking the long road alone, soaking wet and aching from more than just the rain.

They're twenty nowAdonis and Ariana.

Two years older, two worlds away.

And somehow, still orbiting the same pain they left behind in me.

We never had much, but we had each other.

Grandpa and Grandma did everything they could to give Mary and me a good life after our parents left us behind.

My mother disappeared when I was a toddler, and Grandpa told me she died not long after.

I never even knew my father's name.

But despite it all, I never felt unloved.

We may be poor, but we walk with pride.

We work with our hands and earn our bread honestly.

There's dignity in thatsomething the Monleons might never understand.

Don Miguel Monleon is different, though.

Ariana and Adonis's grandfather is a good man.

Generous.

Kind.

He gave Grandpa a home within the Monleon estate and always treated us with respect.

I sometimes wonder what he thinks of the way his grandson carries himself.

Adonis may inherit the hacienda, the land, and the business, but he'll never inherit Don Miguel's heart.

That kind of goodness doesn't pass down in blood.

It's chosen.

I've worked in the Monleon estate every summer since I was old enough to pull weeds.

But if I had my way, I'd stay at the Esmeralda Flower Plantation forever.

Donya Esmeralda is wealthy, yesbut kind in a way that isn't performative.

And her son, Rich... he's nothing like Adonis.

Rich is warm.

Humble.

He speaks to everyonelaborers, drivers, helpersas equals.

No one ever feels small in his presence.

Maybe that's why I feel at peace in the flower fields.

Surrounded by color and silence, the scent of blossoms, and the hum of bees.

A world that blooms despite the heat.

A place where I can forget the things that bruise my soul.

I'll work there again this summer.

I'll lose myself in petals and sunlight.

I'll avoid Adonis at all costs.

But even as I make that vow, deep down, I know the truthno one truly outruns their past, especially not in a town as small and tangled as San Antonio.

And the part that terrifies me most?

It's not just that my past is still here.

It's that he is.

Adonis is back.

Adonis's gaze was always intense when it landed on meunpredictable, like a storm on the edge of breakingand his mouth once kissed me like I was the only girl who had ever mattered.

Maya's POV The cold seeped into every part of my body.

I was trembling, soaked to the bone, my clothes clinging to my skin.

I didn't have my umbrellaI gave it to my sister.

I always did.

I'd rather be the one drenched in rain or burned by the sun than let her suffer even a little.

I had no idea why the downpour came so suddenly.

It was supposed to be the start of summer.

"Maya!

You're soaked!" Mary gasped, her eyes wide as she opened the door to our tiny house.

"Why didn't you take shelter at the waiting shed?" "It was getting late," I replied through shivering lips.

"No buses come by this hour, and the streetlights on some poles aren't even working.

I didn't have a flashlight, so I kept walking.

I figured getting drenched was better than coming home even later." I grabbed the tray holding my soap and shampoo and stepped back outside.

Our shower and bathroom were behind the house, separated from the main structureopen to the wind and rain.

The water from the spring was biting cold.

I washed quickly, trying to ignore the way it stole my breath.

We didn't have a heater.

We never had one.

The freezing water was something we'd always endured, like everything else in our lives.

I changed into one of my old dressesfrayed around the edges but still decent.

Then I joined Mary in our small dining area, where a wooden table meant for four sat snug against the wall.

"I'm sorry I couldn't attend your graduation," Mary said quietly, guilt in her voice.

"You know I couldn't leave Grandma alone while Grandpa was out working on the farm." I gave her a tired smile.

"It's okay, Mary.

I understand.

Grandma just got out of the hospital.

She needs to rest more than anything." "I'm so proud of you, Maya.

You graduated as Class Valedictorian," she said, her face lighting up with admiration.

"I wish I could be like you.

I'm hoping to be in the top five, but it'll be tough." "You don't have to be like me," I replied gently.

"I needed to graduate as valedictorian so I could secure the full scholarship.

It's the only way I can go to college.

Thank God, I made it." It hadn't been easy.

Juggling school with a parttime job, pushing through exhaustion every dayit had worn me thin.

But I had no other option.

Grandpa couldn't shoulder the cost of college, not while Grandma was ill.

"Congratulations again," she said proudly.

"I just know you'll become a successful civil engineer someday.

I believe in you." Her words filled my chest with warmth.

"Thank you, Mary.

And I believe in you too.

I know you'll become an amazing flight attendant one day." Her eyes sparkled.

"You think I'll really get to travel the world?" "Of course," I said with a grin.

"You'll send me pictures and postcards from every country you visit.

You'll make friends from every culture.

And one day, we'll build a beautiful house for Grandpa and Grandmaone with a proper roof and tiled floors." Mary giggled.

"I wish I were already twentyfive." "Why?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Trying to skip time?" She grew quiet, her expression softening.

"I just want to see you succeed already.

I hate seeing you struggle, Maya.

You work on the farm with Grandpa, give me allowance money...

You even bought me a cellphone while you don't have one yourself." "I don't need one," I said gently.

"One phone is enough for our household.

Besides, Lisa can always call you if she needs to talk to me.

And I use the school library for my research.

There's no need to worry about me." Mary blinked back tears, her voice thick with emotion.

"Thank you, Maya...

for always thinking of me." Her words hit something deep inside me.

"All the hardships I've faced made me who I am today," I added softly.

"And I'd go through them all over again if it means helping this family." "I know, Maya.

Thank you so much for being a wonderful sister to me," Mary said softlyand then, to my surprise, she threw her arms around me.

I froze for a moment, caught off guard.

She didn't hug me often.

Not like this.

It felt...

full.

Honest.

Like she had been carrying those words in her chest for a long time.

"Grandma and Grandpa are already asleep," she murmured against my shoulder.

"I let them eat ahead of us.

I told them not to worry about you.

Grandpa needs to be up early tomorrow to work at Hacienda Monleon." She pulled back, smiling at me gently.

"They wanted to attend your graduation, you know.

But I told Grandpa that Grandma still needs rest.

I'm glad they listened." I looked at herreally looked at her.

Sixteen, and yet she spoke with so much calm, so much sense.

I felt a swell of pride in my chest.

She was growing up, becoming more responsible than I ever expected, and doing her best to protect our family, too.

Then my gaze dropped to the table.

"Wait...

you cooked spaghetti?" I asked, the familiar aroma tugging at my emotions.

"Mary, you didn't have to..." In our home, spaghetti was reserved for birthdays, Christmas, and fiestasrare moments of celebration.

Seeing it tonight made something tender in me ache.

She smiled with a shrug.

"It's not much.

I know it should've been a grand celebration.

You're the valedictorian, Maya.

You deserve more than this." She paused, her voice dipping just a little.

"But we didn't have the money for anything fancy.

So I figured...

this would do." I nodded, trying not to let my voice crack.

"It's more than enough." She continued, her eyes flicking to the side as if embarrassed.

"I'm sure your classmates are out tonightcelebrating in nice restaurants, having their names printed on cakes, getting bouquets.

But this...

this is what we have." And just for a second, I saw the hint of sadness she tried to hide.

The longing.

The small wish that things were different.

Mary was drawn to things I always tried to avoidthe social circles, the polished world of the rich kids in town.

I'd always kept my distance.

Except for Ariana and Rich.

Ariana was differentwarm, kind, the kind of girl who reached out when no one else did.

And Rich was the kind of boy who didn't care that I wore handmedowns or smelled of farm soil.

He was fun, friendly, and grounded.

"Hey!

Let's eat before the spaghetti gets cold," Mary said suddenly, her tone lifting.

She was a great cookanother skill we'd both picked up early.

Out of necessity, not choice.

We learned how to cook, clean, and manage a home because we had to.

We needed to hep our grandparents because we were grateful to them for raising us when no one else would.

There were days I longed for my mother.

For answers.

For a father I never knew.

We'd only ever seen our mother in photosfaded snapshots of a quiet, distant woman.

Our father?

A ghost.

No name, no face.

Only silence.

"Why didn't they ever tell us who he was?" I used to ask Grandpa.

And he'd always say the same thing, his voice filled with a strange mix of love and sorrow: "Your mother was secretive, Maya.

She came home one day and told us she was pregnant.

She refused to name the man.

When you were born, I didn't push.

I hoped, in time, she'd tell us.

But she never did." Two years later, history repeated itself.

Mary was born.

And this time, Grandpa's disappointment was louder.

He was angrynot because she was pregnant again, but because she left us both behind...

and never came back.

Grandpa never let us feel unloved.

"You girls," he would say, "are the greatest thing that ever happened to us." So I stopped asking.

The day our mother died, she took her secrets with her.

For me and Mary, our grandparents were our parents.

That's why I learned to work on the farm.

Why I never complained about waking before the sun or scrubbing dirt from my hands at night.

Grandpa was aging.

He worked hard for us.

"Why do you look so sad, Maya?

Is there something on your mind?" Mary asked gently as she watched me.

"I saw Ariana and Adonis today." I replied.

Her eyes lit up immediately.

"Really?

I saw them drive past earlier.

He was in that red convertible again." I nodded, the memory still vivid.

"They stopped by the road.

Ariana got out.

She looked stunning.

Her hair was perfect, her dress was designer, and she smelled like some luxury perfume I can't even name." Mary grinned, teasing.

"And what about your prince charming?" I scoffed, but couldn't help the blush that crept up my cheeks.

"Still arrogant.

Still cold.

But...

God, he looked even more handsome than I remember.

I couldn't take my eyes off him.

I just wish his attitude matched his face." "You know my theory hasn't changed.

He hurts you because he likes you," she said with a playful shrug.

"The more you hate, the more you" "Don't finish that," I cut her off, shaking my head.

"That's not love, Mary.

That's just cruelty.

You know what kind of games the rich kids play.

They don't fall in lovethey make bets.

That's all I ever was to him." My voice cracked slightly at the end, and I hated how much it still hurt to say it out loud.

"That's why he picked me last year," I continued.

"I was the target of some stupid, cruel game.

And I was foolish enough to believe he meant it." Mary's expression softened.

"But you don't know the full story, Maya.

They left right after that incident.

Maybe something happenedsomething you didn't see." She was always hopeful, always rooting for a storybook ending.

For as long as I can remember, Mary had wanted me to end up with Adonis.

But destiny never hurt this much.

From grade four up until my final year in high school, Adonis Monleon had always been my answer to the question: Who's your crush?

Every scrapbook.

Every slumbook.

Every confession box.

Even when he crushed mehumiliated mehis name never changed.

Last June, my best friend Lisa was furious when I still wrote his name on her farewell page.

"Cross it out," she told me.

"He doesn't deserve even a space in your memory." But I couldn't.

Some people leave a mark on you, even when they don't deserve to.

"I still don't get it," I muttered.

"Why does he treat you so differently?

He talks to you like you're his little sister.

He's nice to the farmhands' kids, too.

Everyone adores him.

I'm the only person in this whole town he seems to hate." Mary tilted her head thoughtfully.

"Maybe he doesn't hate you, Maya.

Maybe you just scare him." I stood up and started clearing the table, needing something to doanything to escape her stare.

"Stop it, Mary.

Adonis and I are never going to happen.

He may be my longestrunning crush, but I hate him." She laughed behind me.

"Sure.

Keep telling yourself that.

But one day, I'll tell you to your face: I was right." I shook my head, amused and annoyed all at once.

"Do you know what he said to Ariana today?" I asked after a moment, voice quieter.

"He told her I wasn't beautiful.

Right in front of me.

Like I wasn't even there." Mary blinked.

"Seriously?

Wow.

That only proves my pointhe likes you." "What?

How do you even come to that conclusion?" I turned, genuinely baffled.

"Because he's lying, Maya.

Everyone around here knows it.

You're the most beautiful girl in town.

You have natural beauty.

You don't need expensive products to glow." She smiled, eyes full of sisterly admiration.

"Even Richard said it once.

That you look like a Greek goddess.

He said you have a body men would fight wars forand women would die to have." I burst out laughing.

"Mary!

Stop it.

You don't have to flatter me.

I love you already.

You don't need to say all that to make me feel better." "I'm not flattering you.

I'm telling you the truth," she said firmly, her smile unwavering.

"If you gave someone else a chance, maybe you'd be in a relationship right now.

There are so many boys from the capital who'd be lucky to date you.

But you keep turning them all down." I sat down again, heart suddenly heavy.

"I just...

I don't want to be played again, Mary." She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

"Then don't wait for someone who keeps breaking you.

Try something different this summer.

Go on one date.

Just one.

Who knowsyou might even enjoy it." Later that night, while Mary slept soundly on her side of the room, I lay awakestaring at the ceiling, her words echoing in my head.

Try something different.

Maybe it was time to stop letting memories of Adonis ruin my peace.

Time to stop holding on to someone who never really held me back.

But moving on wasn't as easy as flipping a switch.

He had broken my heart.

And I was still gathering the pieces.

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 againAdonis, 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 billit 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 melike 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 magazinegorgeous 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 herethere's nothing like the peace in San Antonio.

Also... aren't you going to invite me in?" I stepped aside, trying not to feel selfconscious.

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 wallsbut 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 asideI'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 forgetyou 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 partyjust 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 goNew York, Paris, ManilaI 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 beautifulsimple, yet sacred.

Our town was blessed.

Don Miguel MonleonAriana's grandfather and Adonis's as wellowned 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 longestserving 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 LisaI 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 streamheart a little lighter, the morning sun warming my skin.

It was Saturdayearly 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 allashamed 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, twicebecause for a moment, I thought I was hallucinating.

I had seen him just yesterday, but something about seeing him like this, halfnaked and gleaming in the soft morning light, made my pulse trip over itself.

Jake was attractivetall, 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 yearit was a mistake." My stomach dropped.

He didn't stop there.

"I won't apologize, because let's face ityou 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 trembledbut 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 hopedGod help me, I hopedit 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 prideand 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 thenthe 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 surpriseI 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.