Chapter 42
Chapter 42:
But the evidence — conveniently — turned up in her bag. The entire Morgan family circled around Rosanna like a fortress, declaring Maia guilty before a single judge had spoken.
Even now, Jarrod didn’t know if they’d truly believed the lie — or if protecting Rosanna had just mattered more.
He’d been so wrapped up in the joy of finding his long-lost sister, the one fate had taken from them.
To Jarrod, he had two sisters, but to Maia, she had only one brother. And the second Rosanna reappeared, he discarded her like she was nothing.
Maia stared at him, not blinking, not breathing. Her heart had died a long time ago, but the ache still clawed its way up like it was fresh.
He didn’t need to speak. His silence was all the confirmation she needed.
Maia’s mouth curved into a weary, mocking smile. Without another word, she turned and walked away, never once looking back.
Jarrod came to his senses too late. He staggered in place, and someone behind him reached out to steady his arm.
“Don’t let her get in your head, Jarrod. Someone like her won’t last long here. Convicts don’t belong in places like this. One word to the manager and she’s done p>
Another voice sneered, “Seriously, Jarrod. She’d just drag the family down if she ever came back. But damn, she’s hot. That voice, that body? Whatever her past is, I couldn’t care less. Let her live with me for a while. I’ll straighten her out. I’d put money on her crawling back to you, begging to be taken back. What do p>
That last sentence never made it out. Jarrod’s fist connected with the guy’s face before he could finish.
The guy staggered back, a trail of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Get lost p>
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Jarrod’s voice barely rose above a growl, but the rage in his bloodshot eyes was unmistakable — a beast barely leashed.
No matter what Maia had done, no one — no one — had the right to speak about her like that.
Among the rich guys who roamed these circles, Jarrod had always been someone you didn’t cross. He knew how to fight — and everyone knew it. The guy who caught the punch didn’t even try to argue. He clutched his face and bolted for the exit without a second glance.
The rest exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of what was boiling inside Jarrod’s mind. Someone grabbed his arm and dragged him back to the table, shoving a fresh drink into his hand.
Low murmurs started again, desperate to change the subject. “Hey, Jarrod… that gown Maia was wearing earlier — wasn’t that from MCN’s Blue Sea collection? My girlfriend’s crazy about that line. I tried everything to get one — no luck. If I’m right, that dress costs over one hundred thousand p>
“What?” He stared at them, stunned.
Maia had left the Morgan family without a penny. How could she afford such an expensive gown?
“You sure about that?” Jarrod asked sharply.
The guy hesitated, thinking it over. “We were kinda far, and the lighting sucked. But honestly, it looked legit. If it was a fake, it’s the best damn fake I’ve ever seen p>
Even the highest-end knockoffs didn’t come cheap.
Jarrod set his glass down with a quiet thud, a deep furrow cutting across his brow as the thought gnawed at him.
After changing into her T-shirt and jeans, Maia finally stepped out of the dressing room tucked behind the stage. She made her way back to the private booth, where Pattie had been waiting the whole time.