Page 63 of Dirty Lyrics
I’d beg for her. I’d bleed for her. I’d burn the whole fucking world to keep her safe, to keep her mine.
And I will.
Because there’s a darkness in me, always has been. And I used to think it made me cursed, unworthy of anything pure.
But maybe that darkness is just my weapon.
Maybe it’s the only thing I have to shield her with.
She’ll never know the half of what I’d do. The lengths I’d go. The lines I’d cross.
She thinks I’m a man who sings songs. Who writes music. Who sells out arenas.
But the truth? I’m a wolf with blood on my teeth, a man who’ll never be tame.
And anyone who tries to take her—anyone who so much as looks at her like she isn’t mine—I’ll fucking destroy them.
She thinks she’s carrying just our son inside her.
But she doesn’t know—she’s carrying my soul too.
I’m nothing without her. Nothing.
But she is everything.
And I’ll never let her or anyone else ever forget it.
chapter 25-maya
The party is in full swing by the time Rico and I arrive at Lucy and Balor’s place in Verona, New Jersey.
Their home is gorgeous—old-world stone wrapped in twinkling lights, the kind of house that feels like a fortress and a sanctuary all at once.
Inside, the atmosphere is alive. Guests spill into every corner—moguls, artists, producers, friends, industry people who suddenly see Rico differently now that he’s free of Voce and Matheson, that fucking creep.
There’s champagne and laughter, live music humming in the background, and I can feel the buzz of anticipation as everyone waits for the unveiling of the video for Ella es de él.
I should be nervous.
A year ago, I would’ve been hiding in the corner, clutching a drink and trying not to be noticed.
But now? Now I’m standing here beside my husband, my hand in his, and I feel seen.
Not as Alberto Gold’s daughter. Not as some rumor in the tabloids.
But as Maya—the woman who writes lyrics, who built something with Rico that belongs to both of us.
For the first time in my life, I know where I’m going. I have a direction. A career that’s mine, built with my partner.
And even more, a personal life that feels real. Solid.
I’m loved—truly loved—by this man who the whole world thinks belongs to them but who, in truth, belongs only to me.
And God, how I adore being possessed by him.
“Your husband looks like he’s about to kill someone,” a voice murmurs at my side.
I glance over and nearly laugh out loud when I see Lucy Volkov watching Rico from across the way.
