The next morning, the sky over Paris was a cold gray — like the mood that hung between Maya and Adrian.
Neither of them slept.
Maya had spent the night pacing her apartment, replaying everything — the deal, the betrayal, Daniel's smirk.
She wasn't angry at Adrian for the business.
She was angry because, for the first time, she didn't feel seen.
---
When she arrived at the restaurant the next day for the official project meeting, she froze.
The sleek conference room was filled with investors, architects, and chefs — and at the head of the table sat Adrian and Daniel.
Daniel smiled the moment she walked in.
> "Ah, our culinary star joins us at last."Maya kept her voice calm. "Sorry. I was busy working on ideas — you know, the thing chefs do."
A few chuckles rippled across the room. Adrian tried to hide his amusement, but his eyes softened when they met hers.
For a second — just a second — she felt that warmth again.
Then Daniel spoke.
> "We'll be dividing creative control. I'll handle design, Maya handles menu concepts, and Adrian oversees brand strategy. We need results fast."
Maya nodded stiffly. "Understood."
But deep inside, she hated how easily Daniel slid into control — how he treated her passion like a profit number.
---
Hours later, after the meeting, Maya found Adrian waiting by her car.
"Can we talk?" he asked quietly.She hesitated, then nodded.
They walked to the nearby garden — the same one where he'd once confessed he'd fallen for her.
Now, everything felt colder.
"Maya," he began softly, "I know this isn't easy. But Daniel's funding will make your dream possible. A real restaurant — your name on the sign."
She looked up, eyes blazing. "At what cost, Adrian? Working beside a man who insulted me in front of the world? Watching him take credit for my vision?"
He took a breath. "You're stronger than him."
"That's not the point!" she snapped. "You keep making decisions for me, thinking you're protecting me. But I don't need protection. I need partnership."
The words hit him like a slap.
He stepped closer. "I'm trying to help you, Maya. Because I love you."
Her voice broke. "Then why does your love always feel like control?"Silence. Just the soft rustle of leaves and her shaky breath.
---
Adrian's phone buzzed — a message from Daniel.
He glanced at it, face darkening.
"What now?" she asked bitterly.
"Daniel wants to revise the contract — he's proposing joint ownership of your restaurant."
Her blood ran cold. "What?"
Adrian sighed. "It's complicated. He claims it's standard procedure—"
"Don't defend him!" she snapped. "You brought him into my life, and now he's trying to take it over!"
"Maya—"
"No, Adrian." Her voice trembled, but her eyes burned. "I can fight the world, but not if you're standing on the other side."
And before he could speak, she walked away — leaving him standing in the falling dusk, heart heavy, rain just beginning to fall again.That night, Maya cooked until her hands hurt — every slice, every tear of bread, every flame in the pan an outlet for everything she couldn't say.
And in his penthouse, Adrian stared at her contact on his phone, his thumb hovering over "Call."
He typed instead:
> "I'm sorry, Chef. I never meant to hurt you. But I'll fix this. No matter what it takes."
He didn't hit send.
Sometimes love wasn't about the words you said — but the ones you couldn't.
---