Chapter 35
ROSALIE
THREE WEEKS UNTIL THE WEDDING . . .
My mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and I swallowed painfully.
I squinted, blinking against the golden light flooding the room.
How early was it? Or was it . . . late? I fumbled for my phone, but then I remembered I’d left it somewhere in the kitchen. Great.
I stretched before rolling over and grabbing the clock to check the time. The screen flashed 10:23 a.m. in bright red letters.
My heart skipped a beat. Two.
“No! Ohh no, no, no!” I shouted, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks. I jumped out of bed, rushing to the door. Why hadn’t I set an alarm? Why hadn’t I thought ahead?
I was already shoving clothes over my head, barely paying attention to what I grabbed, which was so unlike me. There was no time for my usual meticulousness. There never was—not at this hour, and not with Max.
Max was going to kill me. He’d probably already left the table. He wouldn’t wait up on me, and I didn’t expect him to. He was a very punctual man; I was a very late woman. They say opposites attract, right? For the sake of our marriage, I hoped so.
I thought about what he’d say to me when I saw him. Each step I took down the hallway slowly ate away at my nerves. Finally, I made it to the stairs and went all the way down. The table wasn’t set, but the patio door was open, allowing Duke to sprint past me outside.
My gaze fell to the patio chairs. Max sat in one of them with his phone in his hand and the morning paper on the table beside him. He looked up when he heard my footsteps approaching.
I braced myself for his reaction, hoping my tardiness hadn’t ruined yet another morning. As I drew closer, I saw the slight furrow in his brow and the way his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Why do you do that?” he asked.
“Do what?”
“Why do you make me anxious, impatient, irritable? Why do you make me so mad?”
I could pretend to be innocent, but I knew exactly what he meant.
I knew what I did to him. I knew I made him feel things he didn’t want to feel and didn’t know how to handle.
I knew I challenged him, defied him, and maybe even surprised him.
I knew I made him lose control, and he hated that. He hated that I made him vulnerable.
I glared at him. “I’m not sure. That seems more like a question you need to answer yourself.” I was trying to sound confident, but on the inside I was trembling. I knew he could see right through me. He could see my fear just as much as my desire.
“I ask for breakfast, Rosalie. You miss it each morning, showing no regard for my feelings,” he said, his voice stern. It was the voice of a man who was used to being in control; used to getting what he wanted.
I took another sip. “Do you have those?” I asked sarcastically. I knew it was a risky move to provoke him like this, but I couldn’t help it.
“Feelings? Yeah, I do,” he mumbled in a voice that teetered between sleepy and angry. I thought it sounded sexy. I kind of wanted to hear it again.
“Funny. You don’t show them very often,” I retorted, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.
He sighed, rubbing his temples as if it would ward off the headache I’d caused. “I show them. Maybe not in the way you expect, but I do. That’s why it frustrates me when you’re late. It’s not about the time—it’s about you.”
He had been so patient with me, hadn’t he?
The worst part? I was forgetting why I hated the man . . .
Everyone in my family, it seemed, feared Max. But as I sat there, I couldn’t help but wonder why everyone was scared, because right now, all I felt was . . . safe. Like I’d once felt.
I feared he was nothing but a giant teddy bear. He’d been so patient with me, and he seemed to have an endless well of generosity too, which was surprising. Unwarranted, unexpected, yet undeniable. What had he done, again? Why was I mad?
No. Think!
He’d blindsided me—that’s right. How could I possibly forget? He’d gone behind my back for years. Ugh, I was pathetic. I wouldn’t be able to stay true to what I’d originally planned. The man was pulling on my heartstrings, making me doubt myself. Making me want him again.
Finally, I said, “Max, you’re acting as if I’ve committed some heinous crime. I’m late for breakfast, not robbing a bank.”
“It’s the principle of the matter,” he insisted. “It shows a lack of consideration.”
“And your rigid schedule shows a lack of flexibility,” I countered. “I’m not a morning person. I have my own way of doing things, and it works for me.”
“Your way of doing things is driving me crazy,” he snapped, his patience wearing thin.
“Good. Maybe you’ll finally see that not everyone can—or should—fit into your mold.”
“I’m not asking you to fit into a mold. I’m asking for a little respect and consideration.”
“And I’m asking for a little understanding. Maybe meet me halfway.”
“Halfway?”
“Yeah, halfway,” I repeated. “We can compromise. You know, like normal people do when they care about each other. We can meet for lunch.”
“Nine is the latest I can go.”
I shrugged. “Then I’ll be late.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Yet you still try.”
He was arrogant. Obsessive. Insistent. I hated him and that crooked smile of his.
I said I hated him, but I knew deep down it was impossible to truly hate someone like Max. I was slowly forgiving him, and I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted him, and I was growing weak, torn between attraction and repulsion, hope and despair. Ugh, I couldn’t give in.
Max was a terrible man. He’d killed hundreds of people and betrayed even more—and that included me.
“For you, I will always try,” he said, pausing to think about his words carefully. “I want you to try with me. You may not like me, but you need to trust I have nothing but your best interests in mind.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” I admitted as I grabbed my usual from the table.
“I am nothing but an honest man to you, Rosalie.”
“Hmm.” I was unconvinced.
“Hmm,” he said, mocking me. There was a small flash of annoyance in his eyes. “You don’t believe me?”
“No,” I admitted in a firm voice.
“You will soon enough.”
He watched me. He didn’t need to say anything else—he could see the cracks forming. I hated that he could read me so well. The worst part? I knew he was right. And I hated him for it.
I swallowed, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. He didn’t need one.
“I’ve got a business trip coming up,” he mentioned. “I’ll be gone three days.”
“When do you get back?”
“Monday night.”
“What about our breakfast?” I asked.
He looked at me. “I’ll have to miss it. Sleep in while you can.”
“Maybe we can do dinner instead. I’ll be sure to make it on time.”
He seemed to like my idea. “You? Doubtful, but we’ll see.”
I rolled my eyes. “Where are you going anyway?”
“Chicago. Some dealings with the Callahan brothers.”
I didn’t have the slightest clue who they were. “Who are they?”
“The Americans. Your father was involved in their politics, and it’s left a lot of loose ends for me to tie up. I’ll have Enzo stay with you, switching shifts with Sean.”
I took a sip of coffee. “Perfect. Maybe they can help me pick out some colors for the wedding.”
This interested him more than I thought it would. “You’ve been planning it?”
“No, I’ve just been picking my favorites of everything Daisy sends me. She knows about weddings, not me.”
“And what kind of things has she been sending you?”
I shrugged, trying to downplay the chaos of it all, but in reality, my internet browser had a million tabs open onto what looked like the exact same shade of pink. Daisy swore they were all different shades, but they weren’t. Not to me.
“Everything,” I tried to explain. “The flower arrangements, dresses, cake flavors. You name it, she’s got it covered.”
A slight smile played on his lips. “Daisy’s thorough. That’s good. Do you think she could help you find a dress for an engagement party too? I’ve already spoken to Mikhail about using the yacht for it.”
“Oh, that’ll go over well, don’t you think?” I asked mockingly. “Trapping two families who want to kill each other on the same boat.”
“It’ll weed out the weak.”
“It just sounds like chaos. Someone is going to end up dead.”
“That comes with the territory.”
“All because you wanted something you couldn’t have.”
He smiled. “And now I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“And what is that?” I retorted, unable to mask the skepticism in my voice.
“You.”
“Again, not yours to have,” I argued.
“If you’d kept your lips off mine and followed the damn rules, we wouldn’t be in this mess at all, would we?”
He did have a point. The rules we’d broken, the lines we’d crossed—they all seemed so clear now, like a map of our mistakes leading us to this very moment. I wondered what would’ve happened if everyone had stayed blissfully unaware of who he really was. Would it be the same?
Despite everything Max had done to me, I still couldn’t shake the feeling he gave me. I was drawn to him. He didn’t seem like the awful person my father made him out to be.
All that meant was he was really good at deceiving people.
“What is your plan with me?” I asked, my voice steady but my heart racing with uncertainty.
“I intend to have you fall in love with me,” he said, his words carrying determination.
“What if that means you’ll be waiting forever?”
Max’s eyes fell. “I can wait as long as it takes. Your heart will be mine.”
Max rose from his chair, grabbing the suit jacket hanging loosely on the back of it. “I need to head out now. There are a few things I have to wrap up before my trip.”
I nodded. As Max walked past me, his hand brushed my shoulder lightly.
As soon as he was gone, I allowed myself a moment to breathe and gather my thoughts. Duke had settled on the patio, his tail wagging lazily as he enjoyed the morning sun. I envied his simplicity; his ability to find contentment in the little things.