Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
Maia
As the days passed, I slipped into a rhythm I almost didn’t recognize.
Mornings at the dance studio, nights tangled up with Mr. Porter.
Blaine made everything feel easy—effortless.
We fed off each other’s energy, teasing and laughing until it turned to heat that left me shaking, and we were actually getting to know one another despite our rather interesting relationship dynamic.
But fairytales don’t last forever.
And as much as I loved drowning in mine with my arrogant, ridiculously sexy Romeo, Juliet had some more pressing matters to take care of.
The familiar sterile scent of disinfectant hit me as I stepped into the rehab center of the hospital, my bag clutched tight against me like armor. The front desk attendant looked up, her expression softening the second she saw me.
“Maia, honey, how are you?” she asked warmly.
I gave a little shrug, forcing a smile. “I’ve been doing all right these days. How’s Uncle Wes?”
Her eyes lit with relief. “He’s doing quite well. Ever since his relapse last year, we’ve seen real improvement in his mental health.”
I nodded, though the words tugged something deep inside me.
My uncle was, for lack of better words, the source of my problems. His relapses hadn’t just been his, they’d been mine too.
He raised me as my parents were in much worse shape than he ever was when I attended grade school, and he's been my guardian ever since.
But he was an addict. Gambling was his drug of choice, the kind that didn’t just strip a man of his money but of his dignity. Ever since I was young, he’s been borrowing money with the idea that he’d win it back one day. One day has yet to come.
Three years ago, when he finally admitted the extent of his gambling debt and the shame that came with it, I made a deal with him.
I’d help, but only if he helped himself.
Rehab, therapy, real accountability. His insurance barely covered a fraction of it, so most of the cost fell on me.
But he’d raised me when no one else would, and I wanted to do right by him.
Unfortunately, the more I paid to his lender, the worse it seemed to get.
Instead of watching the balance shrink, the interest climbed higher, piling on until the payments were unbearable.
Every time I thought I was making progress, another notice came through, reminding me I was running in circles.
One night, desperate and angry, I tracked the so-called “lender” down at a bar. I wanted answers, maybe even mercy—but what I got was Felix Drummond: self-centered, smug, and already well aware of the grip he had on us.
That night was the beginning of a two-year relationship that was never really about love.
It was about survival. About paying off a debt that somehow kept growing even as I bled myself dry to cover it.
And when he was finished with me, when he’d wrung out every ounce of usefulness, he tossed me aside and still had the audacity to threaten my uncle and me for more.
Felix was all charm on the surface—expensive suits, empty promises, a smile that could talk you into anything. He saw me drowning and dangled himself like a lifeline, knowing damn well he was the one tightening the rope.
He made it seem like we were in some sort of relationship, but I knew better. I was a means to an end. A body. A buffer between him and the debt he was bleeding out of my uncle.
He pushed because he knew my situation. He dangled promises of security, intimacy, affection… all of it leverage. And I was desperate enough to take the bait.
That was the start of two years that felt like slow suffocation.
When he wasn’t in someone else’s bed, he was reminding me that I owed him, that my uncle’s mistakes made me his property.
He acted offended anytime I benefited financially as if accepting the smallest luxury from him was proof I was a gold digger, while he was the one who held the leash.
He cheated. He belittled. He reminded me constantly that without him, I had nothing. And when he finally tossed me aside, he still made sure I couldn’t get a decent job, kept just enough control to remind me who had once owned me.
"Believe it or not, Mr. Porter, there are other billionaires who are just as charming as you are."
My mind drifted to what I had said to Blaine around when we were establishing our dynamic. Felix was like that at first—until the facade cracked, and all that was left was betrayal, abuse, and the reminder that every promise he’d made me had been a lie.
My uncle, still in treatment for his compulsive gambling, had been so stressed about what Felix was doing to me that he convinced himself the only way to help was to relapse.
To gamble again. To scrape together quick cash the only way he knew how.
I searched for him for two days before I finally found him, strung out and broken, convinced he’d ruined everything.
That was the moment he decided to quit for good and commit fully to rehab.
Felix Drummond was and still is a sick, twisted man. He tossed me aside when he was done with me but kept a leash tight enough to remind me he still had control. Over my uncle, over me, over our lives.
Well… not anymore.
I knocked on my uncle’s bedroom door. He glanced up, smiling as he stood. “Maia, sweetheart, it’s good to see you. Finally coming back to visit your old man?”
I wrapped him in a hug, his scent pulling me back to childhood. He led me toward his sitting area, and I settled beside him.
“Thought I’d stop by. Looks like you’re doing well,” I said gently.
He sighed as we sat, his shoulders heavy.
“I’m trying. They say I should be out in a few more months, but I don’t know if I’m ready yet.” He rubbed his temples, and I reached for his free hand. He hated this part, being reminded that I was the one providing now, that the roles had flipped and he couldn’t take care of me the way he used to.
“You take as much time as you need. You know I’ll always be here for you,” I promised softly.
He nodded, then studied me with those sharp, weary eyes. “So tell me… what’s been keeping you busy these days? You don’t look as tired. Have your jobs been treating you well?”
Has my job been treating me well? Well, my boss tried to force me into stripping, I walked out, and now I’m a sugar baby to a cocky, childish billionaire. That about covers it. But all I did was nod, smoothing my hand over my bag.
His gaze followed the movement. “What’s in your bag?”
My chest tightened. Slowly, I unzipped it and turned it toward him. His eyes went wide.
“It’s the answer to our problem,” I said.
He groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Maia. How the hell did you get that kind of money…?” His voice dropped, almost afraid of the answer.
“I know a guy,” I muttered.
He leaned back, shaking his head. “I knew a guy too. He made me six hundred thousand dollars deep because he believed in my ‘gambling dream.’ Then he taunted me for years by sleeping with my niece as repayment.”
I smacked his shoulder, scowling. “Uncle Wes.”
He held his hands up in mock surrender, smirking despite himself. “What? I’m not wrong.”
God, his filter. I only rolled my eyes. “For the record, we were in a relationship. And the guy helping us out now isn’t going to turn around and make us suffer.”
He arched a brow. “How can you be so sure?”
I swallowed, shaking my head. “I just know, okay?”
He studied me for a long beat, the doubt in his eyes cutting deeper than his words. Finally, his gaze drifted back to the bag. Eyes closing, his shoulders sagged, defeated.
“How much is it?”
I gave him a tight smile. “The bank only let me withdraw ten grand today. But with the money order I put in, it’ll come to fifty total. If we both keep this up, by the time you’re out of here, the debt should be gone.”
He barked a humorless laugh. “Bringing ten grand into a compulsive gambler’s room might be your most foolish decision yet, honey.”
I tilted my head, stubborn. “I didn’t think that far until I walked in. But it’s not a big deal. You’re building my trust by staying here, even if you don’t fully trust yourself. Call it… exposure therapy.”
He shook his head, but a faint smile broke through. A second later, he opened his arms. And like the little girl who used to run home to him after school, I sank into his embrace. His scent, the weight of his arms… it all dragged me straight back to childhood.
“I just want you to be careful,” he murmured into my hair. “I don’t want you getting hurt again because of me.”
I hugged him tighter, whispering against his shoulder, “I’ll be fine, Uncle Wes. You just focus on getting better. Leave Felix to me.”
Stepping into one of Felix’s buildings, I was greeted with the usual: an eye roll from the woman at the front desk before she turned back to her computer.
That was fair, I suppose. A few years ago, I’d been the girl clinging to the arm of the man who owned the place.
Then only a year ago, I’d been banging on doors, begging him not to blacklist me from every decent job in the city.
“Mr. Drummond isn’t in today,” she said flatly.
I didn’t bother answering. She’d lied before. No doubt she was lying now.
"And if you're trying to get out of this month's loan payment, don’t sweat it. He’s not going to miss a few hundred bucks.” Her smirk widened, like she was in on some joke I’d never find funny.
She looked more comfortable than the last time I saw her. Probably fucking him again. The thought of Felix waking up smiling beside her made my skin crawl. I’d once tried to convince myself I loved him. But you can’t love a man who treats you worse than the gum under his shoe.
Miss Push-Up Bra and Lip Filler never failed to remind me she was the one he cheated with. Poor girl. The way she talks about him, she must think he really cares for her.
“Actually,” I said, sliding my bag onto the counter, “I’m here to make an early payment.”
Her fingers froze above the keyboard, then tapped. “How much did you—”
The words died as I dropped ten neat stacks of thousands onto the desk.
I’d been planning to make a money order and bring the rest another day, but her jaw was already dropping lower with every stack I laid down, and I just had to stretch the moment. It would've been a wasted opportunity if I didn’t.
Casually, I pulled out my checkbook and glanced around. Spotting the pen by her keyboard, I held up a finger politely, almost sweet as I leaned over to grab it with my other hand.
Her eyes followed every move, wide with disbelief. I scrawled the numbers clean across the page, tore the check free, and slid it across with the cash.
“I was actually hoping to make a payment of fifty grand, if that’s okay with you…” I smiled politely as she gawked at the cash and check like she’d never seen that much money in her life. “And I’ll take a receipt for the deposit…just for my records.”
Once upon a time, I would never have asked for a receipt as I was barely able to make the payment as it was. Not when I was too ashamed, too desperate. But not now.
She stayed silent, processing the payment with stiff fingers until the receipt slid back across the counter. I tucked it into my bag, hiding the smile that threatened to break free as I walked out the door.
I hadn’t felt this free in years. Felix had made me believe I was chained. Blaine reminded me I wasn’t.
Maybe I was falling into old patterns, maybe my situation with Blaine could still crash and burn.
But Mr. Porter was different. Despite the warning bells that I was an absolute trainwreck waiting to happen, he didn’t dangle promises just to watch me starve.
He didn’t make me smaller, worthless, incapable.
And with a pep in my step and a grin I couldn’t bite back, I knew one thing for sure.
Sugar Baby Sunshine was getting her life back.