Chapter 17 #2
She swallowed hard, her pulse fluttering as his words sank in. He hadn’t said it outright, but there was something about the way he spoke, the way his eyes never left hers, that made it clear he wasn’t just talking about money—or anything so mundane.
Her stomach fluttered and it wasn’t fear or embarrassment this time.
It was that strange, undeniable pull she always felt around him, the one she’d spent a year trying—and failing—to forget.
And for the first time in far too long, she let herself wonder what it would feel like to stop fighting it entirely.
Before she could press him further, another servant appeared, stepping silently into the tension-filled space. With a practiced grace, the woman placed a bowl of yogurt, granola, and fresh berries in front of Lexie before retreating without a word.
Lexie blinked in surprise, her eyes dropping to the dish.
It was exactly what she liked best for breakfast. She stared at it for a long moment, her confusion mounting.
How did Max know? She didn’t remember ever telling him.
Had it come up when they were together before?
Or had he somehow figured it out? The realization sent a shiver down her spine.
Her stomach betrayed her with a loud rumble, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. Hunger gnawed at her, but she hesitated, her hands curling into her lap as conflicting emotions swirled through her.
The sight of the food should have comforted her, but her thoughts veered in another direction. If Max could anticipate something as personal as her breakfast preferences, what else had he deduced about her? How much of her had he unraveled in the time they’d been apart?
Her gaze faltered as her thoughts shifted to Enzo.
She forced herself to face the disturbing reality: Enzo had watched those videos.
His lecherous grin, the way he had casually wielded those intimate moments like weapons, made her feel violated.
She could still hear his slimy voice taunting her with what he had.
The bile rose in her throat, but then her eyes returned to Max. The contrast between them was sharp, almost jarring. Enzo’s intentions had been vile, predatory. But Max… Max was something entirely different.
That thought did little to calm her racing heart. If anything, it made her feel even more vulnerable. Max’s gaze was steady, unwavering as he watched her. It was as though he saw everything—her fear, her shame, her confusion—and was waiting for her to surrender to him completely.
“Eat, Lexie,” Max urged gently, his deep voice cutting through her spiraling thoughts. The quiet command in his tone was impossible to ignore. He took another sip of his coffee, as composed as ever, but his words carried weight. “I assure you, Enzo will never bother you again.”
Her breath caught in her throat, the promise in his statement offering a fleeting sense of relief. But it wasn’t enough. “And the videos?” she asked softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. Her eyes darted to the phone sitting by his plate, dread and hope warring within her.
Max’s gaze followed hers, dropping to the phone. For a moment, the space seemed to hold its breath. When he looked back at her, the air between them shifted, thickened.
“They are safe with me now,” he said.
The weight of his statement settled heavily between them. She wanted to feel reassured, but the way he said safe—the way his eyes lingered on her—made her stomach flip. There was more to his words, something unspoken but undeniable.
Lexie’s instincts screamed that Max wouldn’t hurt her, that he wouldn’t jeopardize her life or her career.
But there was a possessiveness in his tone, in his very presence, that left her uneasy.
The man sitting across from her wasn’t just protecting her.
He was taking control in ways she hadn’t anticipated.
Her appetite stirred faintly, but she didn’t reach for the spoon.
Instead, she found herself staring at Max, her thoughts a tangled mess.
She had come to him for help, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had given up far more than she’d realized.
How much of herself had she surrendered the moment she’d walked through his door?
And, more disturbingly, why did a part of her feel relieved to let him take the reins?
Her lips parted, but no words came. Instead, she picked up the spoon, her movements slow and deliberate as she forced herself to eat. One bite at a time, she told herself, even as her pulse raced and her mind spun. One step at a time.
Max set his cup down as a servant appeared, placing a steaming dish in front of him.
To Lexie, it looked like a colorful medley of vegetables—far too healthy for her taste.
She glanced at her own plate and decided the vibrant berries and creamy yogurt were far more appealing.
Her stomach growled in agreement, protesting having skipped dinner last night.
She took a bite, savoring the sweetness, and let the food settle her nerves.
As she ate, Max leaned back slightly, his dark eyes watching her intently. The casual breakfast ambiance didn’t last long—he wasted no time diving into his interrogation.
“What have you been doing over the past year?” he asked, calm but probing.
Lexie shrugged, keeping her tone light as she answered. “New students. New year. Same challenges.”
His gaze didn’t waver. “Did you date anyone new?”
Her spoon hovered over the bowl, and she glanced at him sharply. “Did you?” she countered, tossing the question back at him before she’d even considered answering.
Max’s lips twitched, but he didn’t answer the question either. Instead, he smoothly shifted the topic. “How are your students this year?”
She sighed, scooping up more berries. “Sometimes wonderful,” she said. “Sometimes feral.” Her eyes flicked up to his, and there was a hint of challenge in her tone. “What did you and Mr. Thermopolis talk about?”
“This and that,” Max replied smoothly, taking a deliberate bite of his healthy breakfast. He didn’t elaborate, and she frowned.
“I like him,” she pressed. “He seems like a good candidate.” She crunched on some granola, waiting for his response. “I hope he’ll win in the primaries next summer.”
Max shook his head slightly. “He won’t.”
His certainty made her pause. She raised an eyebrow at him, her curiosity piqued. “Why won’t he win? He has great policy ideas. Plus, he seems like one of those rare gems—a politician who actually cares about people. Also, he promised to fight corporate greed.”
“He won’t,” Max asserted. “That’s just a campaign promise that people like to hear but politicians wouldn’t dare act on.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Besides, George has secrets,” he added, finishing his breakfast and wiping his mouth with a napkin.
Lexie arched an eyebrow. “What kind of secrets?”
Max stood and glanced at his phone, most likely checking the newest messages for a moment, then slid it back into his pocket. “I don’t know all of them yet. Ask me again in a couple of days, and I’ll let you know.”
Before she could respond, he extended a hand to her. “How about a tour of the house?”
Lexie stared up at him, startled by his sudden closeness.
The sunlight streaming through the terrace windows lit up the hard angles of his face, making him look both impossibly handsome and unnervingly intense.
She hesitated. “I think I should just head home,” she said, trying to sound resolute.
“I have essays to grade and papers to read through before Monday morning.”
Max’s head tilted slightly, a subtle shake of refusal that carried more weight than any spoken denial. “You’ll need to give yourself an extension on that deadline,” he said firmly. “You’re going to be busy this weekend.”
Lexie stood slowly, her wariness sharpening as she met his gaze. “Why am I going to be busy?” she asked cautiously.
Max stepped closer, his towering frame nearly brushing hers, and lowered his voice. “Because you and I are partners now, Lexie,” he replied, his words heavy with meaning. “If you want to solve your problem, if you want your life back, you’re going to have to work with me.”
Her breath caught, and she took a small step back, but his hand reached out—not to grab her, but to touch her arm gently, grounding her.
“This isn’t about control,” he added, his voice softening just enough to take the edge off.
“This is about trust. I’m not here to take over your life.
But you came to me. You made me part of this. And now, we see it through. Together.”
Lexie’s heart pounded in her chest as his meaning sank in. She searched his eyes, looking for any trace of manipulation, but all she saw was determination and something she couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t dominance—it was something steadier, more resolute.
“I don’t want to lose everything, Max,” she admitted, her voice trembling.
“You won’t,” he replied, his tone unwavering. “Not with me.”
The certainty in his voice left no room for doubt, and as much as it terrified her, she found herself nodding. Against all logic, she felt herself leaning into the promise of partnership that he offered.
Max’s hand was warm and firm as he took hers, guiding her closer to him with an ease that sent a flutter through her. “We have things to discuss, Lexie,” he said, “but let me show you around first.”
She wasn’t sure if she wanted a tour, but his tone left no room for argument.
He led her through his home, each room more impressive than the last. The indoor pool and sauna in the basement gleamed under the soft lighting, and the gym was packed with equipment, some of which she recognized and some she couldn’t even begin to name.
There was even a sleek, modern shower tucked into a corner so one could rinse off without trailing sweat through the house.
It was all functional, practical, and overwhelmingly luxurious.
Upstairs, Max showed her the library, a warm and inviting space lined with shelves that reached the ceiling.
The room smelled faintly of leather and old books, and it felt like stepping into another world.
She tried not to linger too long, but it was difficult not to imagine herself curled up in one of the chairs, a book in hand and a mug of steaming tea at her elbow.
He didn’t give her time to linger anywhere.
His office was next—a space that exuded authority with its rich wood tones and commanding desk.
Then there was a smaller, more femininely decorated office, which puzzled her but also piqued her curiosity.
Before she could ask, he moved on, showing her a billiards room that had a variety of games she didn’t recognize, but again, she wasn’t given time to explore.
The kitchen was next, massive and pristine, with every possible modern appliance gleaming under the lights.
Max introduced her to the housekeeper and the team of five servants, all of whom were polite and deferential to her in a way that made her slightly uncomfortable.
She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, and it only reinforced how vastly different their worlds were.
The great room stole her breath away. Massive windows overlooked the woods, and beyond that, she spotted the glittering expanse of water.
Puget Sound? Elliot Bay? she wondered. Either way, it was a view most people could only dream of.
She glanced around the room, taking in the oversized fireplace and soaring ceilings.
It was all so far removed from her own life, from her modest home where every purchase had to be carefully considered because a teacher’s salary only stretched so far.
The rest of the tour blurred together—large, beautifully decorated rooms that felt more like pages from a magazine than spaces where people actually lived.
What stood out most was the security. Max pointed out the visible cameras and locks, but he also revealed subtle features—hidden cameras, reinforced doors—that made her realize just how much effort went into protecting this fortress.
Finally, they returned to the hallway and Max led her back into his office, closing the doors behind them with a soft but final click. The space felt heavier now, the air charged with unspoken tension.
“And now,” Max began, his tone shifting to something darker, more serious, “we come to the business part of our tour.” He gestured toward a leather sofa set in front of another fireplace, this one unlit and adorned with a large fern.
The room was impeccably arranged, but her imagination conjured an image of a crackling fire casting warm glow on the space, the warmth filling the room on winter evenings.
Lexie hesitated, knowing full well what he meant by “business.” Payment. She settled onto the sofa, her hands fidgeting in her lap. Her voice trembled slightly as she asked, “What do I owe you?”
Max didn’t sit beside her. Instead, he stood in front of her, his tall frame towering over her as his hands slid into his pockets. His gaze was unwavering, the weight of it pressing down on her as the silence stretched.
“We will marry.”