My One-Night Stand Was My Secret Sponsor

Fifteen days before my wedding, I caught my fiancé, Ryan, sleeping with another woman in our bridal bed. So I went and slept with a more expensive man. Luca. Ryan insisted I was only throwing a tantrum, and the wedding preparations went on as usual. He even sneered in front of our friends, "Maya, you're a broke little mechanic. Who would want you after you leave me?" The next second, a million-dollar Aston Martin stopped in front of me, and Luca opened the door for me himself. Ryan went pale because he recognized Luca Moretti, New York's most dangerous Mafia heir. I thought Luca and I were just having fun. Until he gave me opportunities again and again, stood behind me when I needed him, and even let me into Moretti's most confidential racing program. I finally panicked and decided to draw a line between us. Then I saw a name in his files: Maya Sullivan. That was my name before I turned fifteen. Beneath it were the words: Anonymous Sponsor: Luca Moretti. I stared at that line, my hands starting to shake. The man I had slept with was the sponsor I had kept in my heart for six years. Maya's POV Fifteen days before my wedding, I caught Ryan sleeping with another woman in our bridal bed. That day, I got off work two hours early because I wanted to surprise him. I was carrying his favorite cheese pizza when I opened the door and heard those suggestive sounds coming from the bedroom. I stood frozen in the entryway for a long time. For this wedding, I had stopped staying up late, started learning to cook, and sold my favorite motorcycle. I had even agreed to Ryan's plan that after we got married, I would sell the little garage my dad left me and find a steady job at a Moretti Automotive repair center. Ryan said that once we were married, I wouldn't need to spend every day crawling under cars. He would be my strongest, most dependable support. I believed him. All my life, people had told me to play it safe. My dad died early. I had no family money and no one to catch me if I fell. One wrong step could hurt me far worse than it hurt anyone else. And for the past few years, Ryan had always been there. Then the bedroom door opened. Ryan was wearing nothing but his pants. When he saw me, he froze for a second. Then, unbelievably, he frowned. "Didn't you say you wouldn't get off until ten tonight?" I lifted the pizza in my hand. "I wanted to surprise you. Looks like you're the one who gave me a surprise." The woman behind him hurriedly got dressed and slipped past me. I knew her. She was the new assistant at Ryan's office. After the door closed, Ryan dragged a hand down his face. "Don't start making a scene." I looked at him. "Do I look like I'm making a scene?" "I know this looks bad, but the wedding is only half a month away. The hotel, the guests, the invitations, everything is already set. We're about to be husband and wife. I just made one little mistake every adult makes. You're not really going to ruin the wedding over this, are you?" He looked so wronged, as if the moment I refused to pretend nothing had happened, I would become the one destroying the wedding. I asked, "How long has this been going on?" Ryan said nothing. "Three months?" He still didn't answer. Suddenly, I didn't want to know. I put the pizza on the table, took off my engagement ring, and threw it into the trash. "The wedding is canceled." Ryan's expression finally changed. He grabbed my wrist. "Maya, can you be a little more mature?" I laughed from pure anger. "If I wasn't mature, I would have smeared that hot pizza all over your face." Maybe he heard the sarcasm in my voice. His tone grew harsher. "Fine. You want to say it like that? Then look at yourself. You're twenty-one, covered in motor oil all day, and your nails are never clean. Other women are picking wedding dresses, and you're under cars tearing apart transmissions. My mom already thinks you come from nothing. We even have to split the wedding expenses fifty-fifty. Haven't I compromised enough for you?" I couldn't stop myself from laughing. So the equality I had believed in was called compromise in his eyes. I thought he wanted me to sell the garage because he worried I was working too hard. I had even seriously considered taking fewer overnight repair jobs after we married, learning to live the normal life he wanted, becoming the kind of wife he thought was respectable. Ryan kept going. "I just want you to act like a woman fit to be married." I nodded and pulled my wrist free. "Sorry. I can't be that woman in this lifetime. Go find someone else." I turned and left. His voice followed me. "Try taking one more step! Who besides me is ever going to marry you?" I never slowed down. I never looked back. The wind outside the building was cold. Only then did my tears begin to fall. My phone lit up almost immediately. Ryan: Stop being childish. We still have to taste the wedding menu tomorrow. I blocked him. To hell with his stability and maturity. For twenty-one years, I had listened to people tell me how I was supposed to live. When I started my old Ford pickup, I slammed my foot down on the gas. Twenty minutes later, I saw a black Aston Martin pulled over on a country road. A man stood beside it in a black shirt, his suit jacket draped over one arm. He looked about thirty. Two men who looked like bodyguards stood nearby. I had already driven past when I heard an odd, muffled sound from the engine as it started. Occupational habit made me hit the brakes. I backed up, rolled down my window, and said, "Start it again." One of the bodyguards frowned. "We've already called roadside assistance." Fine. My mistake for sticking my nose in. I shut my mouth and was about to leave. But the man opened the hood himself. "Please take a look." A few minutes later, I found the problem and secured the fuel line again. "Try it now." The engine came back to life. The man glanced at the dashboard, then at me. "You're a mechanic?" "I am." He smiled. It was a beautiful smile. But I had been disappointed by men enough for one day. I had no interest in admiring him. "Eighty dollars." A bodyguard handed me a thick stack of cash. I took eighty and gave the rest back. The man lifted an eyebrow. "The rest is a tip." "I don't need it." "Not enough?" "I only take what I earn." He watched me for two seconds and, surprisingly, didn't insist. I turned to go, but he called after me. "Your name?" "Maya." "Your last name?" I opened my truck door. "You don't need to know that much." I drove away. In the rearview mirror, the man was still standing there, watching me. At the time, I had no idea he would completely wreck the life I had planned so carefully.

Maya's POV At ten that night, I sat alone in a bar with three empty glasses in front of me. Ryan had been right about one thing. I had always been obedient. When I was fifteen, someone anonymously sponsored me to attend technical school. After that, I became even more careful, afraid of wasting the chance someone had given me and afraid that one wrong move would leave me unable to get back up. I chose Ryan for the same reason. He was safe enough. A stable job. An ordinary family. No debt. No dangerous habits. He was the "right answer" in everyone else's eyes. But the right answer hadn't made my life any better. Suddenly, I wanted to know what would happen if I didn't choose the right answer tonight. The bartender had just asked whether I wanted a fourth drink when a hand took my glass away first. I looked up. The man from that afternoon had taken the seat across from me. "Are you following me?" "This bar belongs to me." I was quiet for two seconds. "Then your bar's liquor tastes terrible." He gave a low laugh. "Luca." "What?" "My name." I looked at him. "I didn't ask." "I wanted to tell you." He said it as if that settled everything, and his smile was still unfairly beautiful. My mood actually lifted a little. Luca glanced at my bare ring finger. "The engagement is over?" "You pay attention." "You had a ring mark this afternoon." I stared into my glass. "He cheated." "So he's your ex-fiancé now." I looked at him. "You jump to conclusions fast." "Are you going back to him?" This time, I didn't hesitate. "No." The moment I said it, something inside me loosened. I told Luca that I had rarely made real decisions for myself. All my life, people had told me which road was safer and which choice carried the least risk. I had always followed their instructions. Luca watched me. "You can choose not to listen." I froze. Those words made me think of the anonymous sponsor from when I was fifteen. He had always signed his name with a single L. I shoved the thought away quickly. There were countless people in the world whose names began with L. When I looked back at Luca, I suddenly realized he was nothing like any choice I had made before. Around thirty. Handsome. Rich. Dangerous. No matter how I looked at him, he had no place in the careful life plan I had built. That was why I asked, "Are you married?" "No." "Do you have a girlfriend?" "No." "Good." Luca's brow drew together. "Maya, you just ended an engagement." "I know." "You might regret this tomorrow." "Then that's tomorrow's problem." I held his gaze. He stared back at me. "Don't use me as a way to vent your emotions." I paused. "You don't want this?" He didn't answer, but his eyes had already answered for him. I stepped closer. "Weren't you the one who told me to make my own choices?" Luca was silent for a moment. "I'll ask one last time. You won't regret it?" I tipped my head up and kissed him. I admitted that part of me wanted to prove how ridiculous Ryan had been. But more than that, I wanted to know whether I would regret it when I stopped thinking about marriage and stopped caring what other people thought. The answer was no. When I woke up the next morning, my mind was clear. I remembered everything from the night before. I started getting dressed. Luca leaned against the headboard. "Your number." "You didn't say last night came with follow-up service." His expression darkened a little. I almost laughed. Then my phone lit up. Ryan had changed his number and started flooding me with messages. [Stop acting up. The wedding is still happening.] [My mom already sent the invitations to the family.] [Who else are you going to marry besides me?] That last message would have hurt me before. Now, it only felt absurd. I turned off my phone. Before I left, Luca asked again, "Your last name?" "Reed." He repeated it slowly. "Maya Reed." I smiled and closed the door behind me.

Maya's POV Three days later, Luca's Aston Martin drove into my garage again. I crawled out from under a car and saw a pair of leather shoes that were far too clean. "Broken again?" "There's a strange noise." "Where?" "In the front." Fifteen minutes later, I lowered the car. "Nothing is wrong with it." Luca's expression stayed calm. "Maybe... it fixed itself just now." I laughed in disbelief. "Don't you think using that excuse to flirt is childish?" He rubbed his nose and smiled. Somehow, he looked a little cute. I suddenly realized this man didn't feel quite as cold and dangerous as he had the first time we met. At least around me, he didn't seem impossible to approach. Then Ryan walked in carrying flowers. "Maya, we need to talk." "There's nothing to talk about." "The wedding planner is still waiting for you." For a moment, I thought I had heard him wrong. "The wedding is canceled." Ryan frowned. "My mom rearranged the seating. I dealt with what happened last time, too. My assistant quit. How much longer are you going to act up?" Only then did I know for certain. He truly believed I would marry him no matter what. Ryan saw Luca, and his tone softened. "A customer?" Luca answered blandly. For some reason, it irritated me a little. What else was I supposed to call him? The stranger I slept with once? Ryan, however, found his confidence again. "See? You really think some rich man is going to want a girl with motor oil all over her hands after you leave me?" Just then, a sharp metallic noise rang out beside us. A test car from the Moretti team had just started up. I went straight over. "Turn it off." The technician clearly didn't want to, but he killed the engine after Luca gave him a look. I inspected it for a moment. "The ignition timing is wrong. If you keep pushing the RPMs, it'll knock." He refused to accept it. "Those settings came from an engineer at headquarters." "Then you drive it out and test it yourself." Ten minutes later, the new data proved I was right. The technician shut up. Ryan's expression looked bad, too. Luca turned to him. "She designed the cooling solution for Moretti's GT3 test car last year." I looked at him. "How do you know that?" "I read the report. It was signed M. Reed." I couldn't stop myself from lifting my chin. Ryan gave a cold laugh. "Just luck." "Then my luck is pretty damn consistent." I pointed at the door. "Get out." "Maya..." "The wedding is canceled." I looked at Ryan and suddenly realized I no longer wanted to prove anything to him. "And I don't need to find a richer man first to prove I deserve to be loved. The second you cheated, we were over." Ryan's face darkened completely. He threw down the flowers and left. I stared at the doorway. My chest didn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would. Behind me, Luca said, "That last part was good." "I was good already." "You were." He answered so quickly that I froze. He turned to get into his car. I called after him. "Wasn't there a strange noise?" "It's gone." I grabbed a cleaning rag and threw it at him. He caught it, smiled, and got into the car. I smiled, too. Then I immediately reminded myself: We had slept together once. Don't take it seriously.