Eight Years in the Shadows

In the eight years Mom worked as a maid at the Whitmore estate, I only went there seven times. She always thought I hated her boss's son, Ryan Whitmore. Then one day, she came home with boxes of leftovers. "How can a woman be that shameless? Ryan's getting married, and she still won't let go. "She must be smart, though. After all these years, Mrs. Whitmore still hasn't figured out who she is. "She said once she finds her, she'll ask the girl's parents what kind of daughter they raised." Mom kept talking, not noticing how pale I'd gone. That night, I broke up with Ryan at the condo. I cried until I couldn't anymore. Ryan said nothing. When my tears finally ran dry, he slipped a cigarette between his lips and let out a cold laugh. "Break up? Tanya Tayler, you think we're dating? Did you really think I was dating you? "Don't forget who you are. You're just the maid's daughter. I am just messing around. "Walk out of this room tonight, and I'll tell everyone the truth. "I'll tell them you did everything you could to seduce me." Chapter 1 I sat outside the Whitmore estate on my e-bike, killing time on my phone while I waited for Mom. Then a woman shrieked from inside. "I'm going to find that shameless bitch!" My head snapped up. Mom rushed out with several huge bags, her hands straining under the weight. The second she spotted me, she smiled. "Tanya, grab these." I loaded the bags into the front basket, then handed Mom a helmet. "Why'd you get off work so late?" She pulled it on. "Ryan came home for dinner with his fiancée. There was a ton to do." My mind went blank. Ryan was getting married. I froze. Ice shot through my veins. Mom patted my shoulder. "Why are you zoning out? Come on. It's getting dark." "It's nothing." I hit the throttle and pulled away from the gated community. Hot summer air smacked my face as cold sweat beaded on my forehead. Behind me, Mom kept gossiping. "The Whitmores were a total mess today. Ryan was having dinner with his fiancée when some woman called. He answered right in front of her like he had nothing to hide. Mrs. Whitmore looked furious, but she couldn't cause a scene. Apparently, that woman's been hanging on to Ryan for years." Her voice dripped with disgust. "I heard she's a nobody. No money, no connections. And she actually thinks she belongs with the Whitmores? Ryan's getting married, and she still won't let go. Shameless. Mrs. Whitmore said once she finds her, she'll ask the girl's parents what kind of daughter they raised." All the strength drained from my body. My fingers started shaking. The e-bike lurched to a stop. The leftovers spilled from the basket, sending lobster tails and filet mignon across the dusty road. Mom hopped off and crouched to gather everything. "What is wrong with you? Why'd you slam on the brakes? This came from the Whitmores' dinner. It's expensive. I had to ask the house manager for it. We'd never get food like this otherwise." I stared at the lobster tails and filet mignon scattered across the filthy road. My eyes burned. "Mom, can you please stop bringing home other people's leftovers?" "You don't get it." She shot me an irritated look. "Do you have any idea how rich the Whitmores are? Most people could never afford this. You think I'd spend every day cleaning someone else's house if I had money?" She carefully wiped the dirt off the food. "If you'd made something of yourself and married rich, I wouldn't have to work this hard." Here we go again. Same speech. Every time. To her, marrying rich was the only way out. I shut my eyes and swallowed the hurt. Without a word, I crouched and picked up the food piece by piece. Once everything was packed and Mom was back on the bike, I hit the throttle. We took off. The Whitmores' gated neighborhood faded behind us, replaced by our cramped, run-down block. The difference between their world and ours couldn't have been clearer. By the time we got home, I was drained. I headed straight for my room. Then Mom called after me. "I'm making a few more dishes tonight. Go prepare food materials." I went to the kitchen and sorted through the vegetables on autopilot. Hot summer air drifted through the window. Mom started again. "Remember Gabriel? The guy Aunt Catlyn introduced you to? He called again today. Your aunt's embarrassed because you keep turning him down. I don't get you. What kind of guy are you waiting for? We're regular people. Find someone decent and build a stable life." Then she added, "And don't go chasing some guy way out of your league. You'll only embarrass yourself." My fingers stilled, snapping a leaf in half. "Mom, tell Aunt Catlyn I'll meet Gabriel." Chapter 2 Late that night, I lay in bed in the dark. The second I closed my eyes, a car horn blared from downstairs. I checked my phone beside the pillow. Dead. Not my problem. But the honking kept going, each blast louder than the last, ripping through the quiet apartment complex. I yanked the blanket over my head and tried to ignore it. Then the neighbors started yelling. "People are trying to sleep! Have some manners!" "You think you own the whole building?" My chest tightened, and my eyes snapped open. Mom had terrible insomnia. She needed sleeping pills every night, and even then, she was a light sleeper. She might still be asleep, but not for long. I dragged myself out of bed and leaned over the windowsill. A familiar luxury car stood out in the dark. Ryan's. I gritted my teeth, grabbed my jacket, and rushed downstairs. Ryan leaned against the car, a cigarette between his fingers, smoke curling around him. The second I stepped outside, his eyes found mine. Like he knew I'd come. A cold smile tugged at his lips. Fuming, I yanked open the passenger door without looking at him. He stubbed out his cigarette, tossed it into a trash can, got behind the wheel, and pulled away. The drive was silent. Neither of us said a word. I knew he was pissed I'd turned off my phone. Ryan was obsessed with control. If I took a few minutes too long to reply, he'd either freeze me out or blow up. Tonight, I'd shut off my phone and disappeared for hours. I'd crossed the line. So he broke our unspoken rule. He came to my run-down apartment complex and kept honking until I came downstairs. The air inside the car was suffocating. He kept pressing the gas, the wind roaring around us. Then another car pulled alongside and cut us off on purpose. The driver rolled down his window and sneered. "Hey, asshole. Think you own the road because you've got a nice car?" Ryan didn't even glance over. He floored it. The two cars tore down the empty street in a reckless race. At first, I felt nothing. But he kept speeding up, driving like he had a death wish, and panic finally hit. My heart jumped into my throat. "Stop chasing him! Ryan, please!" I kept saying his name, my voice shaking. He glanced at me, that faint smile still on his lips. I knew him too well. The angrier he got, the colder his smile became. Finally, he jerked the wheel, left the other car behind, and pulled into the condo building's private garage The car stopped smoothly. But even after the speed was gone, my body stayed stiff, my back soaked in cold sweat. Silence filled the car. Ryan leaned over and unbuckled my seat belt, his eyes locked on mine. When I didn't move, his voice softened. "Get out." Everything I'd been holding in all day— hearing about his engagement, Mom's words feeding every insecurity I had, and the fear from what he'd just done— finally broke me. I tipped my head back and burst into tears. Ryan went still. Then he reached over and gently wiped my face. "Don't cry. I'm here. What are you scared of?" Heartache. Anger. Humiliation. Helplessness. They all lodged in my throat. I couldn't get a single word out. All I could do was cry. Ryan let out a quiet sigh and pulled me into his arms. I completely lost it. I bit down hard on his shoulder. Hard enough to taste blood. I froze. 'Oh no.' Ryan never let me get away with this. Sure enough, his hand shot up. His fingers closed around my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. They were dark with possession. "Getting brave, aren't you?" Then he scooped me into his arms. This was the condo only the two of us knew about. No one would ever find us here. It wasn't in Ryan's name. He'd put it under a friend's to keep his mother from finding out about me. The second we stepped inside, every trace of tenderness disappeared. The anger he'd been holding back all night crashed into me. It became too much. Before I could stop myself, I slapped him across the face. The crack rang through the condo. He went still. Some of the hostility drained from his eyes, and his grip loosened. Only at moments like this would he let me fight back. He let me struggle. He let me cry. He let me fall apart. Sobbing so hard I could barely breathe, I rasped, "I hate you, Ryan. I hate you more than anyone." Chapter 3 He let out a low laugh, his chest rumbling against mine. "Fine. Hate me. Your body doesn't seem to." My lips parted. The question I'd swallowed a thousand times caught in my throat again. 'What am I to you?' In the end, I said nothing. Afterward, Ryan cleaned me up. His warm chest rested against my back as one arm circled my waist. "Hungry? I'll have someone bring us something." Inside this condo, hidden from everyone else, Ryan dropped his usual cold, arrogant mask. Here, he could be surprisingly gentle. Bitterness rose in my chest. I turned and wrapped my arms around him. He held me without a word. For a long time. Then the voices from earlier came rushing back. Ryan's mother's insults. Mom's scorn. My body went rigid. I shoved him away. Ryan frowned, confused. He probably thought I was throwing a fit. Assuming I was tired and cranky, he kept his voice calm. "What do you want to eat? I'll have the kitchen send something over. Mango pudding? Strawberry cheesecake? You like sweets." Ryan had always been like this. He ran the entire Whitmore Corporation and had power most people could only dream of. Yet he remembered every tiny thing about me. That thoughtfulness had kept me trapped for years. But his tenderness was cheap. And dangerous. I swallowed everything I wanted to say. Then I turned away, picked up my clothes, and got dressed. I didn't even look at him. "What's this supposed to mean?" Ryan finally lost his patience. He stepped in, yanked the belt from my hands, wrapped it around my wrists, and pinned me against the cold wall. His presence swallowed me whole. Locking eyes with me, he said impatiently, "What's your problem now? Jealous? You should be used to this by now. Or are you not feeling well?" I looked at the face I loved so much. The same face that always made me feel so small. One word at a time, I said, "Ryan Whitmore, let's break up." The room went dead silent. His grip tightened around my wrists. "What did you say? "Say it again." He forced me to meet his eyes. Mine were red as I shouted, "Let's break up!" His grip suddenly loosened. He looked down at me, his voice turning ice-cold. "Why?" "You're getting engaged. You're getting married." My voice shook with exhaustion. To my surprise, he gave me a mocking smile. "That's it?" Pain ripped through my chest. My eyes burned. "What do you mean, 'That's it'? You had dinner with your fiancée while your mom called me trash. She said I wouldn't leave you alone and only wanted your money. Even my own mom said I wasn't good enough for you!" My voice cracked as everything I'd held back finally came pouring out. Ryan only stared at me with cold contempt. "You've been with me all these years, and you're only now realizing how pathetic this is? Who said we were ever together? Tanya Tayler, did you really think I was dating you?" He leaned closer, his voice cruel. "Don't forget who you are. You're just the maid's daughter. Walk out of this room tonight, and I'll tell everyone the truth. "I'll tell them you did everything you could to seduce me." Chapter 4 I took a cab home alone. My red, swollen eyes stared back at me in the window while the tears kept coming, soaking through my sleeve. So that was all I'd ever been to Ryan. The maid's daughter who seduced him for his family's money. No one knew our secret had trapped me for eight years. It started in high school. After my parents divorced, Mom had nowhere else to go. She took a job as a maid at the Whitmore estate, and the family used their connections to get me into the best high school in the city. Mom never stopped reminding me to thank Mrs. Whitmore. That day, I stood outside the Whitmore estate, clutching the huge gift basket Mom had put together. Ryan was even colder back then. He gave me one look, said nothing, and walked inside. I didn't dare leave. So I stood there and waited. When Mrs. Whitmore finally came home, I worked up the nerve to hand her the basket. She smiled politely and thanked me. But she didn't take it. I stood there awkwardly, unable to set it down or pull it back. Then Ryan came downstairs. He glanced over. "What's that?" Mrs. Whitmore's attitude softened instantly. She gave me a warm smile. "Good girl. Wash one for Ryan, would you?" I did as she asked and held out the fruit. He looked at it but didn't take it. Instead, he stood and walked past me, his shoulder brushing my hair. I froze. After Ryan left, Mrs. Whitmore took my hand. "Now that you two go to the same school, I need a favor. Ryan keeps everything to himself. Watch him for me. If any girls get close to him—or if he starts dating—tell me. Okay?" Spy on him? I didn't want to. But I couldn't say no. Mrs. Whitmore was the reason Mom had a job at the estate. We owed her. So I nodded. From then on, I reported everything Ryan did at school. Until one day, word got around that a girl had asked him to meet her on the rooftop. Without thinking, I followed him. But the rooftop was empty. I turned to leave—and found Ryan behind me, arms crossed, a mocking smile on his face. "So that's how my mom always knows where I am." His eyes narrowed. "There's a little traitor in my own house." I'd been set up. Everyone at school knew Ryan had a nasty temper and kept people at arm's length. Terrified, I dropped my gaze. "I'm sorry. I was wrong." Then his cold lips slammed into mine. My whole body locked up. I stared at him in shock. He stepped back, a cruel smile curling his lips. "Go tell my mom I kissed you." Shaking, I shoved him away. "Don't touch me. I'll really tell her." He didn't care. He moved closer. "Go ahead. Let's see who believes the maid's daughter." Panic hit me hard. Mom had finally escaped her broken marriage and landed this job. It was all she had. All we had. I couldn't risk it. From that day on, Ryan had me trapped. He used that kiss against me and kept pushing every boundary. Through high school. College. Then graduation and work. Eight years. Eight years in the shadows. I stayed away from the Whitmores whenever I could. If I ran into Ryan while picking Mom up, I'd lower my head and walk right past him. Like we were strangers. Like I hated him. Even Mom believed it. She'd defend him and tell me not to judge him so harshly. But I never hated Ryan. Not once. He always thought I stayed because I had no choice. Only I knew the truth. For the last half of those eight years, I stayed because I wanted to. I knew we came from different worlds. I knew he was controlling, obsessive, and way too much for me. But back then, when my life felt empty and dark— he was the only light I had. He was right there. Close enough to touch. How was I supposed to stop myself from reaching for him? Eight years of longing. Eight years of lying to myself. Today, I finally woke up. The light I'd chased for eight years... had always seen me as cheap. Dirty. The kind of girl who'd do anything. For the first time... I regretted it all.