Chapter Three: The Girl Who Didn’t Beg
Maya Chen sat in her car outside the Riverside Inn.
She’d driven twenty minutes after Randall’s call. He’d told her everything—the house, the divorce, the forty-three thousand dollars, the ring on the nightstand, the pregnancy test.
She should have hung up.
Twelve years ago, she’d loved him. Then he’d met Annie at a college party and chosen her instead. Maya had walked away without a fight. She’d thrown herself into pre-med, then medical school, then surgery.
She’d told herself she was over him.
She wasn’t.
But she’d learned to live with the ache.
Now she sat in the hotel parking lot, staring at the neon sign, and asked herself why she was here.
Because he needs help.
Because Jesse Morrison is a predator.
Because no one else will fight for him.
She got out of the car.
Randall opened the door before she could knock. He looked older. Thinner. Dark circles under his eyes. But his hands were steady, and his jaw was set.
“Thank you for coming.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
She stepped inside. The room was small. A queen bed. A desk. A laptop open to bank statements.
“You need a forensic accountant,” she said. “Someone who can trace where that forty-three thousand went. I know a woman. Sarah Vasquez. She’s expensive and she doesn’t suffer fools, but she’s the best.”
“Will she take my case?”
“She’ll take mine.”
Maya didn’t know why she said that.
Mine.
Not yours.
Randall was quiet for a moment.
“Yours?”
“Jesse Morrison isn’t just defrauding you. He’s been running this scheme for years. Multiple victims. Multiple wives. Multiple properties. If we’re going to stop him, we need to go after him on every front.”
She pulled out her phone.
“I’ll call Sarah tonight. And Randall?”
“Yeah?”
“Twelve years ago, you chose Annie. I accepted that. But I never stopped caring about what happened to you.” She looked him in the eye. “This isn’t about us. This is about justice. Don’t make it weird.”
He almost smiled.
“I won’t.”
“Good.”
She left before she could say something she’d regret.
