The room was dimly lit–Maria always preferred her office with warm shadows in the evening. A calm, intimate setting that allowed her to think.
She wasn't thinking tonight.
She was preparing.
Sara had just stepped out after confirming security was right and Lila was safely with her tutor in another wing.
Now, Maria sat waiting – hands steepled, face unreadable – when her door clicked open.
Liz stepped in.
She wore black. Like she was attending a funeral. Or maybe hoping for resurrection.
"Thanks for agreeing to see me," Liz said softly, eyes scanning the luxurious space, then lingering on Maria.
Maria didn't speak. Not yet.
Liz walked further in, standing awkwardly for a moment before sitting across from her.
"I've been... thinking a lot. About everything. What I did to you. What I lost. What I broke."
Still, Maria remained silent.
"I hurt you," Liz continued, voice trembling now, as if years of guilt we're finally catching up. "I destroyed something good. Someone good. And I know I can't erase that. But I want to own it. Say I'm sorry. Genuinely."
Maria tilted her head slightly, one eyebrow rising.
"You're sorry?" she finally said, voice low.
"Yes," Liz said, hands trembling slightly. "I've carried it for years. I was young. Pressured. Scared. I–"
Maria leaned forward, eyes sharp now.
"Did the pressure also make you show up at my daughter's school twice this week?"
Liz froze.
"Did the guilt make you sneak photos of her? Or casually find your way to our favorite café? Or–my favorite part–fake an apology to gain access to my office so you could 'coincidentally' meet her again?"
Liz opened her mouth, then closed it.
Maria stood, circling the table slowly like a lioness.
"I know everything, Liz. My PA tracked the phone pings. You've been following Lila. Me. All of us."
Liz rose slowly, guilt flashing across her face. "I just wanted to see if she was real. If the IVF actually–"
"You wanted to use her," Maria snapped, voice dangerously calm now. "Like you used me. Like a pawn. A tool. A weakness you could exploit."
"No–Maria, I swear–"
"You don't swear around me," Maria said, stepping closer, her tone like ice. "Not anymore."
Liz's expression cracked. "I wasn't lying about the apology. I mean it."
Maria's eyes softened–not with forgiveness, but with brutal honesty.
"You're good at pretending. I'll give you that. You knew exactly what to say to make me pause. But here's the thing..."
She moved closer, face inches from Liz now.
"I'm not that Maria anymore."
Liz swallowed.
"I'm the woman who rebuilt herself from blood, rape, pain, and exile. Who gave birth to a child you never deserved to know. Who carved her name into an industry you once said I'd never belong in."
Her voice lowered, sharp as a blade.
"And I see you now. I see the manipulation. The same game. The same bait. But this time? I wrote the rules."
Liz looked shattered–but only for a minute.
Then her eyes darkened.
"You don't scare me," she whispered.
Maria leaned closer, smiling.
"You should be."
Then she turned her back.
"Leave," she said simply. "Before I forget I ever considered hearing your fake apology."
Liz lingered for a moment, frozen in the doorway.
But she didn't speak again.
Because deep down, even she knew–
Maria has won this round.
And the next wouldn't be so forgiving.