Vic wasn't the kind of guy to give up. Not when he wanted something—especially not when he wanted her.
Maya had spat venom at him, thrown every cruel word she could think of, acting like she was done, like she didn't care. But Vic knew better.
Love didn't just disappear. Not when it had burned as hot as theirs had. She could scream, insult him, claim she hated him—but hate was just passion twisted in another form. And Vic? He thrived on it.
The only problem? Eddie.
Vic had been watching. He saw the way Eddie looked at her—like she was something delicate, something worth protecting. It made Vic sick. Because Maya wasn't delicate, and she sure as hell didn't need protecting. She needed someone who understood her. Someone who knew how to match her, someone who knew the fire in her better than she did herself.
And that someone sure as hell wasn't Eddie Thompson.
So Vic decided to deal with the problem head-on.
He found Eddie alone at his locker, flipping through a textbook like he didn't have a single worry in the world. Vic leaned against the metal doors, smirking. "We need to talk."
Eddie didn't even look up. "We really don't."
Vic's smile widened. He loved when people thought they could ignore him. "Oh, but we do." He lowered his voice. "It's about Maya."
That got Eddie's attention. His grip on the book tightened, but his expression stayed unreadable as he shut the locker. "What about her?"
Vic tilted his head. "Stay away from her."
Eddie's stare was blank, his face infuriatingly calm. "Not interested in taking orders."
Vic exhaled sharply, forcing a chuckle. "I'm serious, nerd. Maya isn't your type."
"And you are?" Eddie asked, his voice smooth, unimpressed.
Vic's jaw twitched, but he kept his grin. "We have history. You think that just goes away?" He leaned in. "She loved me. And love doesn't just vanish."
Eddie didn't answer right away. Instead, he studied Vic for a long moment before nodding once. "You're right."
Vic blinked. "What?"
Eddie shut his locker with a loud clang, adjusting his glasses. "You're right—love doesn't just vanish." He turned to walk away. "But neither does hatred."
Vic's smirk faltered as he watched Eddie disappear down the hall.
Fine. If words didn't work, Vic had other ways to handle this.
Back at Maya's house, things were changing.
Her father had been… different. The shouting had lessened. The accusations weren't as sharp. He was trying, in his own way, and Maya—despite everything—found herself softening.
Maybe—just maybe—things could get better.
But Jackie and her mother saw the shift. And they hated it.
Maya's father was weak when it came to betrayal. His deepest wound, the thing that haunted him the most, was his first wife's infidelity.
Jackie? She knew exactly how to use that against him.
So when Vic casually mentioned wanting to see Maya, Jackie jumped at the opportunity.
"You should go," she encouraged sweetly. "Maybe she's starting to come around."
Vic hesitated. He wasn't sure if Jackie was being helpful or just playing her usual games, but in the end, he didn't care. He wanted to see Maya. Needed to.
Jackie even offered to show him the way.
She led him right inside, too easily, like she'd planned it. She guided him toward Maya's room, smiling too much, too eager.
The second he stepped in, the door clicked shut behind him.
Locked.
Vic turned around, frowning. "What—"
Then he saw her.
Maya was standing across the room, stunned, her hazel eyes narrowing dangerously.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Vic smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You missed me."
Maya let out a dry laugh. "Not in this lifetime."
Before he could say anything else, heavy footsteps thundered down the hall. Then, the door slammed open.
Her father stood there, eyes blazing.
Vic barely had time to react before the man's voice came, sharp and cutting.
"You're just like your mother."
Maya's entire body stiffened.
The air turned suffocatingly still.
"I should've known," her father spat. "You thrive on attention , sneaking around behind my back in my damn house —"
"No!" Maya's voice cracked. "It's not like that! I didn't—"
But he wasn't listening.
He saw what he wanted to see.
Vic, standing too close. His daughter, alone with a boy.
It didn't matter that it was a setup.
All that mattered was that his worst nightmare was unfolding right in front of him.
Maya's face crumpled as she realized the damage was already done.
Vic didn't waste the moment.
He pulled out his phone, snapped a quick picture of Maya looking cornered, and sent it off with a smirk.
To Eddie.
The next day at school, Eddie was watching.
Watching her. Watching Vic.
Maya barely took two steps into the hallway before Vic was there, slinging an arm around her shoulders.
"Morning, babe," he murmured, just loud enough for Eddie to hear.
Maya stiffened.
Vic knew exactly what he was doing. Every time Eddie looked their way, Vic found an excuse to touch her—brushing a hand against her waist, leaning in too close. Maya shoved him off every time, but it didn't matter.
Eddie had already seen enough.
And that was exactly what Vic wanted.
Eddie didn't react, didn't say a word. But his eyes were sharp, unreadable behind his glasses.
Maya had had enough.
When she finally found Eddie alone, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him aside. "You know he's doing this on purpose, right?" she hissed.
Eddie studied her for a long moment. "Yeah."
She blinked. "Wait—you do?"
Eddie nodded. "Vic warned me to stay away from you. When that didn't work, he switched tactics. This is just part of the game."
Maya's stomach twisted. "And you believed him?"
Eddie's expression softened. "No. I know you."
Something in her chest ached at that.
She swallowed hard. "So, what do we do?"
Eddie's lips curled into the faintest smirk. "We let him think he's winning."
Maya's heart skipped.
And for the first time in days, she felt something other than anger.
She felt hope.
Vic wasn't done. Not by a long shot.
Maya was his.
And if she thought she could escape him, she was dead wrong.
He would make sure of it.