Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
MAIA
P resent Day…
I almost slam my tablet against the wall. Fucking Gatsby Spearman. Every day I read an article about him and his amazing company. He’s nothing but a thief, a liar, and a cheater. Well, I’m not sure about the last one, but I’ll prove that I’m right about all three.
Climbing the corporate ladder as a woman is challenging but not impossible.
My path to success was littered with obstacles from the beginning. The first person who almost ruined my career—and my life—was Gatsby Adrian Spearman.
Asshole, and to think that he owned my heart for almost an entire year of my life. Lesson learned, don’t hand out your love or your soul to just anyone—not even handsome, charming men who pretend to be nice.
No one should be surprised that after fourteen years of his betrayal, hearing his name makes my head explode. The air-conditioning in my office is a sharp contrast to the boiling rage churning my insides.
I hate him.
Absentmindedly, I continue tapping the screen of my tablet, reading yet another big headline dedicated to him.
Gatsby A. Spearman.
Every week there’s something new about his innovative ideas. It’s as if the guy reinvented the IT world—he didn’t. Whoever writes those articles about him has a huge crush on him. He’s not all that. He’s sticky gum under the seat of the subway.
If I could stab him with the heel of my scarlet Christian Louboutin, I’d…what?
He won’t know that I’m better than him.
Superior.
Even after the shit show he pulled fourteen years ago, I rose above it and became Maia Azul Ocampo, the founder and CEO of MarkTech Express.
I created a magical app called Market Express.
The one that everyone uses to order groceries and delicious meals from their favorite stores and restaurants.
They can either pick them up or have them delivered to their homes.
My company is part of the top-500 best places to work and private companies in the country, and we’re expanding around the world.
It took me a lot to overcome what that slimy, backstabbing, trust fund bastard did to me, and I’m almost ready to show him who’s the best one of us.
Me.
In a couple of years, people will say Gatsby who?
Am I hungry for vengeance?
Totally.
Is he going to regret crossing me?
Oh, he will beg for mercy.
No one will be able to save him.
Maybe, if I had slammed his face with my outdated laptop the first time the tall, delicious man with dark-brown curls flashed me his signature smirk and bore into my soul with those green-gray eyes…well, maybe I wouldn’t hate him so much.
Instead of ignoring him that day while I moved my things to the studio, I smiled back foolishly. The nerdy girl responded like a lovesick schoolgirl.
That was exactly what you were, Maia.
He was two years older than me. He was so handsome and cool without even trying.
I normally didn’t like rich kids. They had everything handed to them while the rest of us had to work our asses off to even stand a chance. But Gatsby was different. He managed to pull down my defenses. He wasn’t a regular my-daddy-just-bought-me-a-Lamborghini trust fund kid.
Georgia Tech had a few of those brats, though. Filthy rich, spending more time in nightclubs than in the classroom, and drinking champagne at all times—even when they were just college kids. When I met Gatsby, he was wealthy, but he wasn’t arrogant.
He was carefree, funny, and caring.
He made me believe he was a stand-up guy.
I was so fucking wrong.
He blinded me with his personality and his kisses.
As a young, na?ve eighteen-year-old who had never been in love…
well, I fell for his charm. In my defense, I had spent most of my life at home, being homeschooled by my parents.
No wonder I wore rose-colored glasses that made me believe everyone was good.
Gatsby and I were inseparable. I hate to admit that we made a pretty good team and burned up the sheets every time we got together—which was often. In every class we had together, we teamed up. Study groups, group projects…we were the dream team of Georgia Tech.
There was a time when I swore he loved me. The mere thought of what he would do to me at night made my knees turn to jelly. The way he spoke to me, softly, gently. I believed he really loved me.
No one knows this, but I thought we’d be a “power-tech-couple,” like Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher but in the IT world—and like Demi and Ashton, we didn’t last that long.
It was my naivety.
The innocence of an eighteen-year-old whose parents had been together since they were children. I swore Gatsby was the guy I’d spend the rest of my life with.
I believed in him, till he almost ruined my life.
He disappeared when I needed him the most.