Chapter 13 Why Do You Care?
Rose blinked in surprise as Maverick tossed it onto the nightstand and stepped closer.
Before she could even process what he was doing, he planted both hands on either side of her pillow and leaned over her, trapping her beneath him.
Rose’s breath caught.
His damp hair dripped onto his forehead, while the towel around his hips sat dangerously low. The sight of him so close made her heart stumble, but the expression in his eyes quickly wiped away any other thought.
“Who were you talking to?”
His voice was quiet.
There was no curiosity in his gaze. Only jealousy.
Rose opened her mouth to answer, but Maverick didn’t give her the chance.
He lowered his head and kissed her.
The kiss was sudden and possessive, stealing the words right from her lips. Rose’s hands instinctively found his shoulders, her fingers curling against his damp skin as he deepened the kiss.
One of his hands slid from the mattress to her face, holding her gently but firmly as he tilted his head and kissed her again, leaving her struggling to catch her breath.
Beside them, the phone suddenly came alive.
Ivan’s furious voice erupted from the speaker.
“What the fuck? Are you with another man right now? Who is that?”
Rose barely heard him.
Maverick kissed her again, completely ignoring the voice coming from the phone.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Ivan shouted. “What are those noises? Are you sleeping with him?”
Maverick’s jaw tightened.
Without taking his eyes off Rose, he reached over, grabbed the phone, and ended the call.
The room immediately fell silent.
He tossed the phone aside and turned his attention back to her as though Ivan had never existed.
Rose was breathless beneath him. She turned her face away for a moment, trying to catch her breath, then glanced toward the phone before looking back at Maverick.
“He’s already hung up,” she whispered.
He raised an eyebrow, his expression darkening as he looked down at her.
“What did I tell you when you came home with me for the first time?” he asked, his voice low and rough.
His thumb brushed across her lower lip, wiping away the trace of moisture there before he continued, his gaze fixed on hers.
“I told you that if I ever found out there was another man in your heart, I’d break his fucking neck. Don’t you remember that, or do you simply not care what I say?”
Rose immediately stiffened beneath his gaze. The possessiveness in his voice sent a nervous shiver through her.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “It won’t happen again. I won’t pick up Ivan’s calls when you’re around anymore.”
The anger in his expression only deepened.
Before she could say anything else, he lowered his head and kissed her again, his frustration evident in the intensity of the kiss. When he finally pulled back, his eyes remained fixed on hers.
“In front of me?” he repeated.
Rose’s stomach tightened.
‘Oh my God. What am I even saying?’
He was already like a wild animal, perfectly capable of tearing her apart. The last thing she needed was to irritate him by saying something stupid.
‘What is wrong with me? Why can’t I ever seem to think logically around him?’
Before she could gather her thoughts enough to explain herself, Maverick leaned down again.
His mouth moved from hers to her neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses along her skin. Rose's breath caught, and her fingers instinctively curled against his shoulders as the tension between them slowly overwhelmed her.
Whatever argument she had been trying to make disappeared from her mind as she lay beneath him, her body trembling beneath the intensity of his attention.
He nipped at the delicate skin just beneath her ear and she gasped, sharp and high in her throat, every nerve ending pinpricked with longing and fear.
His hands roamed her waist, splaying flat, fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt, anchoring her to the mattress.
Maverick’s breath was ragged, the edge of it hot and ragged against her cheek.
Every movement of his mouth felt like an accusation.
She couldn’t keep up—his tongue was insistent, lips relentless, as if he was trying to erase any trace of Ivan from her memory and replace it with himself.
The force of him was overwhelming, and she was drowning in the taste of him, the scent of his skin, the weight of his thigh between hers.
“Ah!” Rose’s head spun. Her hands scrabbled at his back, nails catching at the thin cotton of his t-shirt, desperate for something to hold on to. She could sense the jealousy radiating off him, bitter and electric.
His teeth grazed her collarbone, and she felt her body arch, hips grinding up into him without her permission. Her breath hitched, a trembling whimper escaping, humiliating in its neediness.
“You are mine now,” he muttered, the word muffled against her throat.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
He came down hard on her lips again, hungrier this time, and she surrendered to it, let herself tumble headlong into the want.
She forgot about Ivan, her phone, the fight.
All that mattered was the crush of Maverick’s body on hers, the way his hands mapped her ribs, thumbs tracing slow lines just under her bra.
He pulled back, just enough to hiss, “Stay the fuck away from him,” and the warning was clear, but so was the plea underneath it. She nodded, dazed, and Maverick kissed her harder, his body molding to hers as if he meant to fuse them together.
***
Maverick stepped out of the Oracle Fragrances building, and Rose hurried after him, quickening her pace to keep up with his long strides. He was already several steps ahead when he glanced over his shoulder and noticed her struggling to catch up.
Without saying a word, he slowed down.
Rose noticed immediately and smiled to herself as she fell into step beside him. A moment later, Maverick reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers as they continued toward the car waiting at the curb.
But as they drew closer, Rose's smile faded.
Their driver was standing beside the car.
And he wasn't alone.
Another man stood beside him, waiting.
Rose's brows knitted in confusion, but before she could ask who he was, she felt Maverick's grip tighten around her hand.
She looked up at him.
His expression had changed.
The relaxed look he had worn moments earlier was gone, replaced by a hard, displeased stare directed straight at the man waiting by the car. There was a clear edge of irritation in his eyes, and the tension in his jaw made it obvious that he wasn't pleased to see him.
Yet Maverick didn't slow down.
As they approached the car, Maverick glanced briefly toward the driver.
“Let's go,” he said.
His hand immediately shifted to Rose's waist, drawing her closer as he guided her toward the passenger door. He didn't acknowledge the other man, didn't even spare him a glance, as though he wasn't standing there at all.
The deliberate dismissal only seemed to make the man's expression darker.
Just as Maverick was about to help Rose into the car, the man stepped directly into their path.
Rose stopped short.
The man was considerably older than Maverick, with a face that carried a similar sharpness to Maverick's features, though age had hardened it in a less appealing way. His expression was twisted with irritation as he looked down at Rose, then slowly shifted his attention back to Maverick.
“How can you get married secretly without even bringing your new bride to meet your family?” he demanded, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Maverick's expression turned colder.
The man continued before he could respond.
“We’re family, Maverick. Your father is going to be deeply disappointed when he finds out that you don’t respect your own family enough to even introduce your wife to us.”
He smiled sweetly, though there was a clear edge to her words.
“Don’t worry. This time, we won’t make you eat with the servants. We’ll even let you sit at the dining table with the rest of us. I’m your cousin, remember? I’ll convince Dad and Grandpa myself.”
Maverick’s expression didn’t change. If anything, it grew colder.
“I have no desire to eat with dogs,” he said dismissively.
Before Augustus could respond, Maverick gestured toward the driver with two fingers. Then, without another word, he shoved Augustus aside and opened the car door for Rose.
“Get in.”
His voice was cold, but the way he guided Rose into the car was careful, almost gentle, as if nothing had happened.
Rose climbed inside, still trying to process the strange encounter.
Behind her, the driver glanced at Augustus, who was now standing beside the car with a furious expression.
“Get away from the car, Augustus,” the driver said casually. “And you're paying for the cleaning. Do you have any idea how expensive it is to clean a Mercedes?”
Augustus's face twisted with disbelief.
“Excuse me?”
The driver didn't even bother looking at him again. He simply walked around the car and got into the driver's seat, completely unfazed by the fact that he had just insulted Maverick's cousin to his face.
Rose stared at him in surprise.
‘Did he really just say that?’
And more importantly, why didn't he seem even slightly afraid?
Maverick climbed into the car beside her a moment later. His face was set in stone, his anger still evident in the tightness of his jaw.
Rose glanced back through the window.
Augustus was still standing there, his face dark with fury.
She slowly turned back toward Maverick.
She had heard the rumors about his family.
After Maverick and Zoe's parents died when they were children, the Bishop family had allegedly taken control of the fortune and businesses their parents had built together.
There had been countless stories about how badly Maverick and Zoe had been treated growing up—how their relatives had humiliated them, pushed them aside, and treated them as though they were nothing more than unwanted burdens.
And then, years later, Maverick had taken everything back.
Brutally.
There were even rumors that he had beaten several members of his own family so badly that they had nearly died.