Chapter 25-Maya
The party is in full swing by the time Rico and I arrive at Lucy and Balor’s place in Verona, New Jersey.
Their home is gorgeous—old-world stone wrapped in twinkling lights, the kind of house that feels like a fortress and a sanctuary all at once.
Inside, the atmosphere is alive. Guests spill into every corner—moguls, artists, producers, friends, industry people who suddenly see Rico differently now that he’s free of Voce and Matheson, that fucking creep.
There’s champagne and laughter, live music humming in the background, and I can feel the buzz of anticipation as everyone waits for the unveiling of the video for Ella es de él.
I should be nervous.
A year ago, I would’ve been hiding in the corner, clutching a drink and trying not to be noticed.
But now? Now I’m standing here beside my husband, my hand in his, and I feel seen.
Not as Alberto Gold’s daughter. Not as some rumor in the tabloids.
But as Maya— the woman who writes lyrics, who built something with Rico that belongs to both of us.
For the first time in my life, I know where I’m going. I have a direction. A career that’s mine, built with my partner.
And even more, a personal life that feels real. Solid.
I’m loved— truly loved—by this man who the whole world thinks belongs to them but who, in truth, belongs only to me.
And God, how I adore being possessed by him.
“Your husband looks like he’s about to kill someone,” a voice murmurs at my side.
I glance over and nearly laugh out loud when I see Lucy Volkov watching Rico from across the way.
Her lips are curved in amusement, her eyes sparkling.
“Mine too,” she adds, tipping her head toward Balor, who’s standing at the edge of the crowd with his mismatched eyes scanning the yard like he’s ready to take out anyone who so much as breathes wrong.
I snort, clapping a hand over my mouth, and Lucy grins.
“They’re ridiculous, aren’t they?” she says, sipping her drink. “All that brooding, all that ‘ I’ll set the world on fire for you, baby’ intensity. I mean, who’s gonna try to do something crazy here?”
“Totally ridiculous,” I agree, my chest warm with laughter. “And we eat it up like candy.”
Her laugh is low and knowing. “Exactly.”
We stand shoulder to shoulder for a moment, watching our husbands—Rico practically vibrating with restless energy, Balor a silent storm.
And instead of embarrassment, pride blooms in my chest.
“They’re a lot,” Lucy admits, shaking her head, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She is stunningly beautiful, and frankly, it would’ve devastated me at any other time to draw comparisons between us.
But not now. Not when we are both so blissfully in love with our own men.
“Same,” I confess, smiling so hard my cheeks ache. “I think they’d lose their minds if they ever tried to be normal.”
“Oh, they’d die,” Lucy says, eyes twinkling. “And honestly? I’d miss it. All that obsession, all that devotion—it’s exhausting sometimes, but it’s also just beautiful .”
“Yeah,” I whisper, my hand drifting to my belly. “It really is.”
We share a look then, two women who know exactly what it feels like to be adored beyond reason, to be claimed in ways that make you laugh and swoon in the same breath.
“Well, we better go sit by them before they implode,” she jokes, but I see her shiver as she crosses to where Balor stands.
And when the lights dim and the big screen flickers to life, introducing Ella es de él,
I feel Rico’s gaze lock on me across the yard.
And I know— this song, this night, this future —it’s ours.
I walk over to him, and I slide my hand in his and his black eyes glitter.
He lifts our joined hands and kisses my wrists, tugging me to the row of chairs where ours sit, reserved just for us.
“You ready, Songbird?”
“I’m ready.”
And I am. Ready to take this next step. Ready to show the whole world what we can do.
With Rico by my side, I know there’s nothing we can’t accomplish, and I’m champing at the bit to see what’s next.