Becoming strangers again (Lily and Ryan) novel Chapter 158

MAYA

I am incredibly proud of how everything is happening in my life right now q. Ryan thinks he can push me out just because that foolish old man didn’t include me in the will. I’m smarter than him, smarter than all of them, and I will do whatever it takes to get what I want.

My phone suddenly rang, pulling me from my sleep. I reached for it, grumbling silently about the interruption. When I saw her name on the screen, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

Even before I answered, I knew what this was about. I swiped to accept the call and stifled a yawn before holding the phone to my ear. “What do you want?” I asked.

“You know exactly what I want,” she replied, her voice sharp. “You remember what you promised me. You know our agreement from when I decided to work for you.”

Rolling my eyes in exasperation, I propped myself up into a sitting position, fully aware that this conversation was about to get heated. “I remember the promise quite clearly,” I said with a hint of annoyance in my voice, “but what I seriously doubt is whether you truly remember the specifics of our agreement.”

“What do you mean by that?” she spat back, her tone sharp and defensive.

“It means,” I replied slowly, emphasizing each word, “that I promised to give you a share of the money once I start seeing some cash flow from the Williams family. As of now, I haven’t received anything, so I fail to understand why you feel the need to wake me up at this ridiculous hour to remind me of this.”

“Don’t try to play games with me, Maya,” she warned.

“I am not trying to play games with you,” I said, dragging out my words, already feeling fatigued by this pointless call. “If I really wanted to play a fast one on you, I would simply block your number. I know you can’t say a word about what happened because, deep down, you understand that I won’t go down without taking you with me.”

“I don’t have anything to lose—”

“Don’t give me that crap,” I interrupted sharply, my voice rising with frustration. “You have plenty to lose, and you know it. You have a whole lot riding on this now.”

She fell silent, clearly aware that I was speaking the truth. “So when can I expect my pay?” she asked, her tone shifting slightly as she realized I wasn’t budging.

“Whenever I get mine,” I replied flatly before abruptly disconnecting the call. “What a fucking nuisance.”

In an attempt to shake off the annoyance, I turned to my social media, scrolling mindlessly to keep myself updated on the latest happenings. However, I didn’t expect to stumble upon something shocking: my mother and I were trending, but not in a good way.

For the past two weeks, we had been in the spotlight, but usually it was for positive reasons. This time, however, the headlines were far from flattering. The posts read:

“Is Maya Really Richard Williams’ Illegitimate Daughter? Considering That He Isn’t the Only Man Her Mother Salome Had an Affair With? It Seems She Is in the Business of Breaking People’s Marriages.” Below this headline were videos and images depicting the homes and marriages my mother had supposedly wrecked. It was an alarming and damaging portrayal, warning others to “Beware of Nannies Like Salome.”

Clicking on the first video, I winced as a woman recounted the story of how my mother had an affair with her husband. The narrator went on to describe how my mother had attempted to blackmail him for a large sum of money.

I rolled off the bed and set out in search of my mother.

I found her in the backyard, tending to her garden, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around us. “Please do not tell me that your foolish past is about to ruin everything I have worked so hard for!” I yelled from the doorway.

She paused mid-action, garden fork frozen in her hand as she lifted her head to meet my gaze. “What are you talking about?” Dropping the fork, she removed her gardening gloves and approached me.

“I’m talking about the fact that you’ve whored yourself out to any man you see, and now it’s all over the news!” My voice rose as I struggled to contain my anger.

Without warning, she slapped me hard across the cheek, the sting of her hand lingering long after the contact. “Don’t speak to me like that, you brat! I am still your mother.”

Clearly, she didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. I closed the distance between us, my glare hard. “I’m going to let this go for now,” I warned, “but the moment you raise your hand to hit me again, I will make sure to return the favor.”