CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN #2
Daphne’s mouth fell open in shock. She’d never heard anything like this from Maximus before.
It was absolutely out of character for him to admit something so vulnerable, so tender.
And it was for precisely that reason that she didn’t trust it.
He was manipulating Daphne in this moment, using vulnerability as a tool to sway her.
He had always been this way: coveting what he couldn’t have.
What Maximus felt for her wasn’t real. It was lust but not love.
Not true love, the way she loved Kronos.
Maximus loved the idea of her. Kronos loved her.
“You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Why not?” he said. “Are you afraid to hear them?”
“I’m not—”
“Or are you simply afraid?”
Daphne shook her head. There was no point in denying it; he wasn’t listening to her anyway. And she was not afraid. Not anymore.
“Perhaps you don’t wish for me to speak because you do not want to consider the truth.”
“And what truth is that?”
“That you care for me.”
Daphne shook her head again, but Maximus wasn’t done.
“You care for me, Daphne. I know you do. We have shared too many moments together for you to deny it.”
“We haven’t shared—”
“We have,” he said sharply. “And you know it.”
“Just stop. Please.”
“I won’t stop until you admit it you have feelings too.”
“Then you’ll never stop.”
“Fine. Then I never will.”
Anger began to coil within Daphne. Maximus wasn’t listening to her.
He was ignoring how she felt, ignoring what she was saying with perfect conviction.
Kronos would never stifle her like this.
It was the fundamental difference between them.
Kronos listened. Maximus didn’t. It was hardly even his fault; he was a prince—he’d been taught that his voice should be the loudest in the room.
But Daphne was not interested in being spoken over.
She had been spoken over her entire life, right up until her last night under the bridge.
The moment she met Kronos was the moment she’d found her voice.
She’d drawn a boundary with him, a terrifying one—and he had respected it. Maximus was not doing the same.
“I’m not an option, Max,” she said firmly. “You’ve always known that. You used to respect it.”
For the first time, his eyes went completely cold. “How can I respect someone who is in love with a snake? What can he possibly offer you that I cannot?”
So much.
“I could give you everything, Daphne,” Maximus said desperately. “Everything. Anything you wanted, for the rest of your life, you would have it with me.”
Daphne just shook her head. “I don’t want anything you can give me.”
A sickly silence fell. Daphne watched as the gears turned in Maximus’s brain. It was suddenly so quiet that she could hear her own heartbeat. She stood there, staring at him, the tides of fate shifting undeniably against her.
He would be angry now. It was time to brace herself for it. “He’s a snake, Daphne,” Maximus whispered. “He isn’t capable of love.”
“Of course he is. He has a heart, just like you.”
“He is nothing like me.”
That was certainly true. Daphne didn’t dare respond. There was such fury in Maximus’s eyes—such hate. There was no reasoning with him right now, if there ever was.
“We had an arrangement,” he snapped. “You were supposed to belong to me. You were supposed to be mine.”
“I have never belonged to you.”
At her words, three things happened.
Maximus stood far too quickly, his hands reaching for Daphne. Out of pure instinct, Daphne stepped back, covering her stomach protectively with her hand. Then Gabriel let out a distressed, warbling cry, making them both freeze.
Immediately, Ella left to tend to him. In her absence, Maximus stared at Daphne.
His eyes traveled slowly down her body, stopping only once they reached her stomach, where she hadn’t bothered to drop her hand.
She did so now, but it was too late. She watched as Maximus’s gaze traveled behind her, falling on the singular wineglass on the kitchen table.
Gabriel was still crying, his sobs peppered with Ella’s soothing tones. The noise was like a siren call.
Maximus’s eyes widened. Finally, he understood.
When his gaze returned to her, it was difficult to read. Daphne couldn’t tell if he was furious, shocked, or a combination of both. She held her breath as he said, “You…love him?”
Daphne blinked. “What?”
“You told me the night we met that you didn’t want to have sex again until you fell in love. You have clearly had sex and not with me. So you must love him. Do you?”
Daphne couldn’t possibly explain the crest—the series of events that led to her and Kronos sleeping together. But regardless of the unconventional circumstances under which it had occurred, there was no denying it. She had fallen in love.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Maximus seemed frozen in place, the ring still dangling, forgotten, from his fingertips. His gaze dropped once more to her stomach. “I would raise it as my own,” he whispered. “If you let me.”
Daphne stared at him. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He had a child with another woman—a woman who was dead. And now, he wanted to raise another man’s child with her? Daphne didn’t believe it for a moment.
“I would do this with you,” he said when she remained silent. He stepped closer, grabbing her arms. “Just say the word, Daphne.”
More manipulation. More lies. She was getting whiplash from his mood swings. Maximus would never raise Kronos’s child. Daphne was shocked he would even stoop so low as to pretend he would.
“We could be together.” He was desperate now, gripping her arms so tightly it hurt. “I could—”
“You could what, Max? Be my husband? Raise this child? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“How is that ridiculous?”
“You know as well as I do that your father would never allow us to be together. That was the entire premise of our arrangement, remember? That’s the reason we agreed to date.”