46. Sophie
46
Sophie
T he drive back to New York with Callie and Maverick was quiet, the silence in the vehicle dense enough to smother any attempt at casual conversation. I stared out the window, feeling Maverick’s presence behind me like a physical touch. It was suffocating yet inexplicably comforting.
Back at the hotel room, while I shoved my belongings into my bag with little care, Maverick leaned against the door frame, his eyes dancing over the space that had become my temporary sanctuary. I felt his gaze sweep over the mess, almost tangible, like a touch—the scattered clothes, the empty bottles, the half-eaten room service. I ducked my head with embarrassment, heat crawling up my neck.
“Call Halls,” Maverick instructed his phone, voice smooth as sin as he continued to survey the room, clearly entertained by the state of it. “We’ll need a ride back.”
I gritted my teeth, hating that he was seeing me like this—raw and exposed. Weak.
But he didn’t regard me with pity or disgust. Just something heavy. Something unreadable.
And fuck, that was worse. Because if he wasn’t looking at me like I was fragile, like I was broken—then what excuse did I have to fall apart? Something inside me snapped, a reckless surge of defiance rushing in to fill the space where shame had been. If he was going to see me like this, then fine. Let him see it all. Let him see what he was dealing with. I decided I didn’t give a shit anymore.
“Enjoying the view?” I snapped, meeting his eyes head-on.
“Immensely,” he drawled, pushing off from the doorway and strolling closer. “It’s not every day I get to see Sophie Reyes fall apart.”
“Ha-ha,” I retorted, zipping up my bag with more force than necessary. “So, are you ready to tell me why, until today, you’ve been avoiding Newark like it’s infested with the plague? Or rather, me.”
He paused, and there was a flicker of something serious in his eyes before his mask of nonchalance slid back into place. “Let’s just say Newark has memories I’d rather not deal with. Ghosts that don’t play nice with others.”
“Your ghosts or mine?” I challenged, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Both,” he admitted, and for a moment, I saw the raw edge he so expertly hid behind his cocky smirk. “But mostly mine. I’ve got enough skeletons rattling around without adding to the collection. Said skeletons being all the people involved in the cartel that the NPD could tie to me, putting eyes on me and my operations.”
Part of me had always known this was the reson, I just wanted him to stop worrying about that so fucking much. I wanted to be more to him. And today, he’d shown that I was. I opted to not address his admission. “Must be a crowded closet,” I mused, the tension between us shifting, becoming charged with an energy that was impossible to ignore.
“Overflowing,” he agreed, a sly grin spreading across his face. He knew what I was doing. “But I find it’s better when you’re not dealing with it alone.”
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely,” Maverick said, stepping into my personal space. “Misery loves company, Sophie. And I’ve found I quite enjoy yours.”
“Careful, babe,” I warned, though my body betrayed me by leaning in. “Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you care.”
“Wouldn’t want that,” he teased, his voice dropping to that gravelly tone that sent shivers down my spine.
“Definitely not,” I agreed breathlessly.
He brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, his touch setting my skin ablaze. We were playing with fire, and neither of us seemed to care about getting burned.
Maverick and I sat pressed together in the backseat, hands clasped in my lap, my head resting against his shoulder. The car was silent, but not empty. Not cold. It was the kind of silence that settled deep, that felt like a truce, a promise, a breath of peace before the next storm.
***
“Welcome home,” he murmured, the words more significant than he likely intended, when we stepped over the threshold.
I barely had time to register what I wanted to say when a soft meow drew my attention downward. By Maverick’s feet was a scruffy black cat, its blue eyes peering up at us with guarded curiosity.
“Who’s this?” I asked, kneeling down to the creature’s level, watching with fascination as it circled Mav affectionately.
“Meet Wednesday,” he said with an equally affectionate stroke over the cat’s ears. “Found her in an alley a few nights ago. Reminded me of you—resilient, a little rough around the edges, but with a heart begging for a place to call home. Plus, you said you always wanted one, so here we are.”
“That’s… actually really sweet, Mav,” I said as Wednesday nudged her head against my hand, and I melted.
“Seems she’s made her choice,” Maverick chuckled, watching as Wednesday curled deeper into my lap, her tiny paws kneading at my thigh. I ran my fingers along her spine, tracing slow, lazy circles, and she purred, pressing into my touch like she was mine already. Maverick’s gaze lingered, something dangerously fond flickering behind it.
I picked Wednesday up, and she playfully wrapped her paws around my hand, batting at my fingers with tiny, harmless claws. I giggled, the sound light—too light for what I was about to say. The weight in my chest didn’t just lift—it shifted, transformed into something else. Something reckless. Something final.
“I’m quitting the NPD.” I said it softly, deliberately—like testing the shape of the words on my tongue. Like I was waiting for them to become real. Then I looked at him. And that’s when it hit.
The shift in the air, the way his entire body tensed as if I’d just told him I was setting the world on fire. And maybe, in a way, I was.
Even he couldn’t hide his shock. “Why—”
I scratched behind Wednesday’s ears, her tiny body warm in my arms.
“I’m tired of it being a reason we can’t work out our differences.” The words left me in a rush, like they’d been waiting to be spoken. I exhaled, shifting my grip on the cat. “And because I can’t keep hiding behind my badge to justify corruption. My time has come and gone.”
Maverick went completely still. Then, a slow grin pulled at his mouth, the kind that took my breath away, the kind that felt like the start of something sinful. “Wanna move in?”
I let out a breathy laugh, dragging my free hand up his stomach, feeling the ridges of muscle beneath his shirt.
“Never thought I’d hear that out of your mouth when you held me at gunpoint the first time we met.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
“There’s something else I never responded to.” His body tensed slightly as I shifted closer, looping my free arm around his neck—the other still balancing the cat. Wednesday meowed in protest, and I huffed a laugh, shifting her higher against my chest before whispering, “I love you, too.”
“Don’t say it unless you mean it.” His voice was low, rough, as if he was already bracing for me to take it back.
“I mean it, Mav.”
Something in him broke. I felt it in the way his arms came around too fast, too tight, his fingers curling into my back like he wasn’t willing to risk a single inch of space between us. I felt it in the way his breath hitched, how he ducked his head, pressing his forehead against mine, exhaling like he’d been holding it in for too fucking long.
I felt it in the way he kissed me. Desperate. Raw. Needy. Not just claiming, but committing.
And I kissed him back, letting him steal the breath from my lungs, my fingers tangling in his hair—still just a little longer the way I loved it—my heart slamming against my ribs.
Wednesday meowed in protest again, trapped between us.
Maverick grunted, pulling back just enough to glare at her, his chest heaving. “This cat’s already cockblocking me, huh?”
I laughed, warmth flooding my chest. “Get used to it, Mercer.”
He smirked, his hand sliding up my back, possessive, solid. “Oh, I plan to.”
And fuck, if that didn’t make my heart flip.
He took Wednesday from me, his large, veiny hands wrapping around her gently, scratching her head before depositing her back on the ground.
Then he was on me, and we were stumbling backward into the bedroom, hands fumbling with clothing. There was an unspoken understanding that this was more than just physical release. It was a merging of souls, a union of two broken halves coming together to create something whole.
Our laughter mixed with moans as clothes were discarded haphazardly, skin on skin igniting sparks that set us both ablaze. Maverick’s touch was both rough and gentle, his kisses branding me as his .
“Say it again,” he murmured.
“I love you,” I told him.
“I fucking love you, too.” He picked me up and tossed me on the bed as if I weighed nothing. “And you’re not leaving me again.”
I shook my head. “No. Never.”
“That’s my girl.”
***
Later, as we lay entangled in the silk sheets of his bed, the world outside ceased to exist. His skin burned against mine—not scorching, but sinking in, leaving traces of him everywhere, each caress a word in the silent language we spoke. Our hearts synchronized in this sacred space where all was right and nothing else mattered.
“Chavez,” he said, propped on his elbow. “The emergency I had to tend to in Vegas was because of Chavez.”
I tucked the sheet around my body and rolled to face him. “What do you mean?”
He blew out a loud breath. “Paulie and Duane sent someone deep undercover into my father’s lair. He flew to Vegas for protection. He has evidence proving everything my father has done and what my brothers are meddling in. And,” he paused, clearing his throat, “a confession that my father did put a hit on your father because he wanted to tap into sex trafficking, and yours didn’t. You were right. Eddie didn’t want to put his children and wife in danger.”
My stomach flopped, but I remained quiet. Wednesday jumped onto the bed and settled between us. Subconsciously, we both pet her. She rolled onto her back, giving us her soft belly to rub.
“And Chavez is still helping them. He’s playing double agent, collecting from me after runs while also transporting women and children.”
I chewed on my thumbnail as I processed this information. “I want to kill him.”
Maverick grabbed his phone from the ground, where it’d lain forgotten since stripping down. “One of those surprises I said was awaiting you… is this.” He showed me the screen, and I gasped. Chavez sat bound to a metal chair in a bare concrete room, seemingly shouting at nothing and yanking on the ropes binding his wrists and ankles.
My naughty little brain recognized those knots immediately. The kinky man in bed with me had made me no stranger to that. It took everything in me to not ruin the moment and say that, though.
“You see, after I knew the whole truth and I got home, I had Chavez restrained. He’s been sitting here with the bare minimum to survive while I waited to bring you to him.”
“Finally,” I whispered, the taste of vengeance bittersweet on my tongue.
“I don’t want to stop at this, though. I want to take down this whole empire, Sophie. Keep the story ours so we control the narrative. After what they did to your dad, what my family has done since… it needs to come to an end.”
I sat all the way up, crossing my legs and re-securing the sheet around me. “What are you saying?”
He joined me, his eyes meeting mine. “We take it back, and eliminate the threats.”
“And save them all,” I added, my resolve steeling. “The women and children. The ones impacted by your family’s involvement.”
“Exactly. And we’ll do it from the shadows, on my side of the law.” His voice was a commanding whisper, sending shivers down my spine. Seeing this side of him so openly, making dark plans with me… it was home. It was us.
“But how will we convince everyone to fall in line? Sure, there are people loyal to my family, but the rest? Who’s to say they’ll believe our truth over the lies that have been fed to them all these years?” I questioned, tracing the tattoos on his chest.
He pet Wednesday casually, then dropped a very not casual bomb. “We could always get married. Make it official.”
His words hung between us, playful yet potent with possibility. A vision of Maverick sliding that ring from Vegas onto my finger—a future where my insecurities were conquered, and we were building a reality woven by our own rules.
“Marriage,” I echoed in a still-teasing tone, collapsing back down on the bed as I thought about it. This would mean no more running. I no longer had a reason to be worried—what with Callie accepting all of it.
Hmm.
The silence stretched between us.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted into the quiet room. “You were right. I should have told you how much I was struggling with my eating disorder.”
Maverick shifted, carefully moving Wednesday up to the pillow above his head before pulling me closer. “I wish you would have. I would’ve taken it easier on you because I know how physically exerting certain… sexual acts can be.”
I sighed. “Well, honestly, even if I’d known what your plans were, it wouldn’t have changed anything. I have to snap out of those benders on my own, but putting you in the middle of it wasn’t fair. Neither was leaving.”
“I hope you enjoyed yourself. I appreciate all the rewards you’ve racked up for me.”
My hands flew to my face as I curled into his chest, groaning. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I was being childish.” My voice was muffled, my face hot as I recalled all the expenses I’d put on his credit card.
He simply laughed, dragging a hand lazily down my back. “It was entertaining to watch from afar. But seriously, don’t worry about it. I have too much money to spend. I’d rather someone use it at their leisure.”
“So humble, babe.”
“It’s all yours anyway.” I tipped my head back. God, I missed him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I started to answer when a loud knock sounded through the penthouse. “Are we expecting someone?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Maverick slid out from under the sheets, his naked body looking so damn good as he pulled on my favorite pair of black sweats and a black shirt.
I didn’t particularly love the idea of sharing him with someone else right now, and when I opened my mouth to say just that, he held a hand up. “You stay put. I’ll be right back.”
Oookay , guess I wasn’t sharing him tonight then.
He reappeared a couple minutes later holding two garment bags, walking past the bed to hang them in his massive walk-in closet. Then, he returned, taking a moment to pet Wednesday before climbing under the sheets.
“So… what was that all about?”
Maverick grimaced. “My family hosts some big function every year. Everyone dresses up. It’s catered. There’s dancing.” He hesitated before continuing, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “I hate it. Always have. But it’s expected of me to show up, play nice with the other organized crime leaders, and pretend like we’re all one big happy family.” His fingers grazed my bare arm, almost absently. “This year, I thought maybe you could come with me. Be my date for the night. Meet my godawful parents and scare the shit out of them. Network with potential allies.”
A mix of emotions swirled inside me—excitement at the thought of attending this event by his side, pleasure at seeing his parents’ reactions to me being with their son, and curiosity at the potential allies I could make with powerful criminals. But most of all, there was a strange sense of comfort in Maverick’s proposal.
“I’d love to,” I replied softly. “Tell me what I need to know.”