Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Solenn
The office felt different. Or maybe it was just me.
I sat at my desk, eyes fixed on my screen, fingers typing at a steady pace, but my mind was somewhere else entirely.
The words blurred together, emails stacking one after another, but none of it registered the way it should.
The weight in my chest had been there since yesterday, since Asher’s warning, since the moment I realized this wasn’t just about me and Maverick anymore.
His mother was watching.
And she wasn’t the kind of woman who sat on the sidelines.
I inhaled deeply, forcing my fingers to move across the keyboard, pretending I wasn’t unraveling from the inside. Work was my safe space, my distraction, the one thing I could control, so I kept my head down, kept my posture straight, and kept my focus locked on the glowing screen in front of me.
If I could just keep everything normal, maybe I could convince myself nothing had changed.
But I wasn’t the only one who felt it.
Maverick noticed.
Every glance from across the office, every flicker of his gaze when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, every small hesitation before he spoke—it was all there, in the tiny shifts, the subtle changes that only I would recognize.
We still worked like we always did. Precise.
Efficient. Perfect synchronization. I handled his schedule, arranged his calls, sat through meetings without missing a single detail.
But when we spoke, it was different. Measured.
Careful. Like we were both too aware of the walls I was slowly building between us.
I hated it.
But I didn’t know how to fix it.
I didn’t even know if I should.
Because the truth was, I was scared.
Scared of what was coming, of what it meant that Victoria Spencer was asking questions, that Asher had warned me, that Maverick—a man who never let anyone close—had let me in.
And I had let him.
A soft ping from my laptop snapped me back into reality.
I blinked, dragging my gaze to the screen, reading through the latest update about an upcoming investor event, but the words felt like static.
My focus was shot, my stomach knotted with an unease I couldn’t shake, and the longer I sat there, the more suffocating it became.
I needed air.
I stood, grabbing my phone, making my way toward the break room, keeping my pace even, my expression neutral. The moment I stepped inside, I leaned against the counter, exhaling slowly, pressing my fingers against my temples.
"You’re avoiding me."
I stilled.
That voice—low, steady, too observant.
I turned my head, and there he was. Maverick.
He stood just inside the doorway, arms crossed, suit crisp despite the long day, gaze locked onto me with that unreadable intensity that made my stomach tighten.
I forced a small, easy smile. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."
He didn’t blink. Didn’t move.
"Solenn."
Just my name. Just that. And it was enough.
I sighed, dropping my head back against the counter, and staring up at the ceiling. "I’m just focused on work. Isn’t that what you hired me for?"
His jaw flexed, the muscle ticking slightly like he knew I was deflecting.
A long pause. Then?—
"Come with me."
I frowned, straightening slightly. "Maverick, I still have?—"
"Now."
His voice left no room for argument.
I exhaled but followed him anyway, letting him lead me back through the office, past curious glances and murmured whispers. He didn’t stop until we reached his office, the heavy door shutting behind us, muffling the rest of the world.
I crossed my arms. "If you needed me to handle something, you could’ve just said so?—"
He stepped forward.
And then he was right in front of me.
I froze.
Maverick never hesitated, never moved without intention, never let anything crack through that perfect control he kept like armor. But right now? He looked like he was barely holding it together.
"Talk to me," he said, his voice quieter now, but still carrying that edge of command. "Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours."
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. "Nothing’s wrong."
His eyes darkened. "Don’t lie to me."
I opened my mouth, but the words stuck, lodged behind the tightness in my chest. Because what was I supposed to say? That I was terrified of what his mother could do to me? To him? To us?
I knew the moment I let myself want this, want him, it was already too late.
That I wasn’t sure I could survive it when it all inevitably fell apart?
His hand lifted slowly, his fingers grazing my arm, trailing up until they wrapped gently around the nape of my neck. His thumb brushed along my skin, barely there, but enough to make me shiver.
"You’re pulling away," he murmured. "I can feel it."
I clenched my jaw, trying to fight the sting behind my eyes. "Maybe you should let me."
A muscle in his jaw twitched, but instead of arguing, instead of demanding answers, he pulled me into him.
I stiffened at first, my body locking up, but then—I melted.
Because he wasn’t just holding me. He was grounding me.
His arms wrapped around me, firm, strong, unyielding. He pressed his face into my hair, his breath warm against my temple, his fingers splayed against my lower back, keeping me there, refusing to let me go.
"I don’t know what we are," he admitted, voice low, rough, real. "I don’t know where this is going. But I do know one thing."
I swallowed hard. "What?"
His arms tightened.
"I won’t let her hurt you."
The words broke something in me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the urge to believe him.
Because I wanted to. God, I wanted to.
I wanted to believe that this was enough, that Maverick Spencer could fight battles that weren’t just corporate wars and business deals.
That he could fight for me.
But I also knew that some fights couldn’t be won.
And Victoria Spencer?
She had already decided I wasn’t worth keeping.
I let myself stay in his arms for just a little longer, letting the steady beat of his heart calm mine. Then, finally, I stepped back, forcing my lips into a small, tired smile.
"I should go. It’s late."
Maverick studied me, his expression unreadable, but after a long moment, he nodded.
"Let me know when you get home."
I hesitated, then nodded once before slipping past him, out the door, out of his space, out of the one place I knew I was safe.
But the safety? It wouldn’t last.
I could feel it.
Something was coming.
And I wasn’t sure either of us was ready for it.