Chapter 3 COFFEE, LINES AND HEADLINES

The screen of Maya's phone stared between them like an open wound.

Damian's heart beat faster.

He didn't even need to read the entire article-he had already seen enough in the headline and the photo too. The story was already out. Someone had recognized him, Or maybe Marcus had leaked it, intentionally or not; either way, the walls were locking up.

Maya's expression was unpredictable, That was the scariest part.

She didn't yell. She didn't ask for an explanation. She just sat there, still and quiet, like someone staring at the slow leak of a gas pipe, knowing fully it was dangerous, but not yet sure whether to ignite it or run away.

"You said your name was Daniel," she finally said, voice low.

"It is... for now."

"Cut the crap."

He swallowed hard. "My name is Damian Cole."

Her eyes shrink, as though she'd been slapped. "Damian Cole? As in DC Tech Damian Cole?"

He nodded.

She stood up, phone still in her hand. Her grip was tight enough to leave fingerprints on the case.

"Do you have any idea how insane this is?" she said. "You lied, for weeks. You let me think you were some poor wanderer with nowhere to go"

"I never said I was homeless."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she cut in, sarcasm sharp. "You only implied it while letting me feed you and get you a job."

"I never used you."

"You are using me! You're playing some twisted game; What is this, some social experiment? Trying to see how the common folk live before you go back to your ivory tower?"

He now stood. "It's not like that."

"Then explain it," she snapped.

He hesitated. "I left because I was tired of the lies, the leeches, the people pretending to care about me just because I was rich. I wanted something real."

Her voice cracked. "And you thought pretending to be someone else was the best way to find it?"

He didn't answer.

Maya laughed bitterly. "Unbelievable, and I was starting to like you. Hell, I did like you. I thought you were-God, I don't know-decent."

"I am," he said. "Everything I've said to you, every late night call, every message, everything we talked about, they were real. The name, the job, yes, those were lies, But the connection between us? That wasn't."

She looked at him, eyes rimmed with disbelief. "You expect me to believe that now?"

"I'm not asking you to believe anything right now. I'm asking you not to shut the door before we even try to talk."

She stepped back, her breath uneven. "I don't know who the hell you are, Damian, and sincerely, I'm not sure I want to."

He looked down. "Maya..."

She turned and walked away.

He didn't follow.

---

The rest of the day was filled with confusion.

Customers trooped into the cafeteria. Maya moved through them like a ghost-taking orders, clearing plates, nodding politely, but her mind wasn't really there. The regulars noticed. Joe dropped by and asked if she was sick. She gave a thin smile and said she was tired.

And all the while, the blog post kept getting shared.

By evening, it had been reposted on two more platforms, and the image was now enhanced. His face was clear.

She shut the place early.

When she got home, she didn't turn the lights on, Just threw herself on the couch, began staring at the dark. Her mind wouldn't stop spinning, thinking about the late-night calls, the soft way he listened when she ranted about her grandmother, the way he swept floors and fixed the leaky sink like he had all the time in the world.

It had felt real.

That was the worst part.

Because now she couldn't tell what parts were real and parts that were fake

---

Damian, meanwhile, sat at the cheap motel desk with his laptop open. He hadn't touched it since arriving into the town. It began glowing in the dim room like it was judging him.

He typed in his secure password and accessed the PR channels.

Hundreds of emails, Board updates, stock price dips, questions from Ivy., A few furious messages from Marcus.

And beneath all that, a single direct message.

From a journalist named Eva Durell.

Subject Line: I Know Where You Are.

He clicked it.

Mr. Cole-

Disguises don't suit you, Neither do lies. But don't worry, I'm not going to expose you, Not yet. I want us to talk, Face to face, Let's call it... a trade, Information for silence.

Tomorrow. Noon. Corner of 3rd and Bell. Come alone.

-Eva

He stared at the screen.

A trade.

And that meant she knew more than she'd published.

---

The next morning, Maya came to the cafeteria earlier. Before opening the doors, she found a white envelope taped to the door.

No name, No address, Just her name in blocky, careful letters:

MAYA.

Inside was a handwritten letter. It was Short, Honest, Apologetic. It ended like this:

" I understand if you never speak to me again.

But you should know-"

everything I did for you wasn't for a story or a game.

It was because I saw something in you I hadn't seen in years.

I'm sorry I lied. I just didn't want to lose that.

-Damian

She read it twice.

Then burned it.

---

Meanwhile, Damian waited on the corner of 3rd and Bell.

Eva Durell was already there, camera bag slung across her shoulder, aviator glasses hiding most of her face.

"You look like hell," she said.

"Cut to the chase."

She smiled faintly. "I will, vut first, tell me something: Why here? Why this town, this girl, this whole charade?"

"I told you, I wanted to escape."

She leaned in. "Then why are you still hiding?"

He said nothing.

Eva glanced toward her car. "I'm giving you forty-eight hours. After that, I go live with everything."

He stiffened. "You said you weren't going to expose me."

"I said not yet. This is your chance to control the story. Tell the truth, publicly, Before someone else tells it for you."

He stepped back. "And if I don't?"

Eva's expression hardened. "Then I expose not just your identity, but hers too. Full name, Business, Address, Let the internet decide what to do with it."

His chest tightened. "She's not part of this."

"She is now."

She turned to leave.

Damian stood there, stunned, until her car disappeared from his sight

His phone buzzed a moment later.

A new notification.

Another article, Another picture.

But this time, it wasn't just him.

It was Maya.

Caption:

"The Woman Behind the Billionaire Disguise?"