Page 54 of Faking it with my Bad Boy Crush

"And?"

"And then Marcus called, and Ethan found out about the civil suit, and he walked away before we could figure out what comes next." I took a shaky breath. "He said he's leaving. Eventually. That there's nothing for him here."

"Is he right?" Tessa asked. "Is there nothing for him here?"

I thought about morning coffee runs and croissant lessons. About business plans built at midnight and courtroom victories that cost everything. About the way Ethan looked at me like I was remarkable, the way he'd defended my credentials with fierce certainty, the way he'd chosen protecting my legacy over saving his own future.

"No," I said quietly. "He's wrong. There's me. There's us. There's the possibility of building something real instead of pretending."

"Then tell him that." Tessa grabbed my shoulders, turning me to face her. "Before he leaves. Before he convinces himself he hasno reason to stay. Tell him you love him and you want him to stay and build a life here. With you."

"What if he says no? What if he thinks I'm just feeling guilty, or grateful, or—"

"Then at least you'll know. At least you'll have tried." Tessa's green eyes were fierce. "But I don't think he'll say no, Maya. I think he's desperately hoping you'll give him a reason to stay. He just doesn't think he deserves it."

My phone buzzed. A text from Richard Sterling: "Independent survey completed early. Results will be released Monday morning. Thought you should know."

Monday. Three days away. Three days to wait for confirmation of what we already knew—that the fraud was real, that Ethan had been right, that his sacrifice had been necessary.

Three days before Ethan would know whether everything he'd lost had been worth it.

Three days to figure out how to tell him that I loved him and wanted him to stay, even though his entire future was burning down around him.

I looked at Tessa, at my best friend who'd watched me fight alone for seven years, who'd celebrated every small victory and supported me through every devastating loss.

"Help me," I said. "Help me figure out how to save him the way he saved me."

Tessa grinned, fierce and determined. "Now we're talking. Let's go plan a grand gesture worthy of a romance novel."

Chapter seventeen

The Confession That Wasn’t

Ethan

Saturday morning, I woke up in my hotel room to seventeen missed calls and thirty-two text messages. Most were from lawyers—some offering help with the ethics complaint, others offering to represent me in Marcus's civil suit, a few just expressing solidarity with what I'd done in that courtroom.

One was from my mother: "Saw the news coverage of your hearing. I'm so proud of you, honey. Call me when you can."

And one was from Maya, sent at 2 AM: "Can't sleep. Keep thinking about everything. Are you okay?"

I stared at that last message for a long time before typing back: "I'm okay. Just figuring out next steps."

Three dots appeared immediately, like she'd been waiting for my response.

"Can we talk? In person? There's something I need to tell you."

My heart kicked up. "Of course. When?"

"This afternoon? There's a place I want to show you. An overlook on the north side of the island. It's where I go when I need to think."

"Send me the address. I'll meet you there."

She sent the location pin, then: "3 PM?"

"I'll be there."

I spent the morning on phone calls—discussing legal strategy with potential lawyers, reviewing the ethics complaint Marcus had filed, trying to calculate how bad the financial damage would be if he won the civil suit. The numbers were devastating. Even if I won, the legal fees would consume everything I had.