Chapter 2

Patricia’s POV

By breakfast the next morning, it already felt like I was the guest.

I walked down the stairs around eight o'clock, expecting the house to be quiet like it usually was before Maverick left for the office. Instead, the smell of fresh coffee and cooked pastries hit me before I even reached the bottom step.

When I stepped into the kitchen, Darbie was already standing behind the island, wearing one of Maverick's oversized white button-down shirts with the sleeves rolled up. She was laughing as she poured coffee into a mug, totally at home in my space.

Maverick was sitting at the breakfast table, his laptop open, but his eyes were on her. I had not seen him look that relaxed in months.

"Oh, good morning, Patricia!" Darbie called out, giving me a bright, cheerful smile like she was the hostess welcoming a late visitor. "I hope we didn't wake you. I just knew Maverick needed his double espresso with two sugars before his nine o'clock meeting, so I made it for him."

My fingers tightened around the edge of my robe. I had been making his coffee every morning for five years, and I always gave him one sugar because he told me he hated things too sweet.

Maverick picked up the mug and took a sip without correcting her. He did not even look up at me.

"Thanks, Darbie," he said, his voice softer than it ever was with me. "You always remember."

I stood there in the doorway, feeling a cold sensation spread through my stomach. Darbie knew tiny details about him, things only someone who was deeply close to him should know.

She knew how he liked his eggs, which news channel he watched in the morning, and even the private nickname his mother used to call him when he was little. Every time she brought up an old memory, Maverick actually listened, nodding along like I was not even in the room.

I started wondering just how important this woman really was to him. I had spent five years trying to get under his cold skin, believing he was just a distant person by nature.

Seeing him with Darbie proved me wrong in less than twelve hours. He was not incapable of warmth; he just did not want to give it to me.

The small humiliations kept piling up as the morning went on.

When I sat down at the table to ask Maverick about a charity gala we were supposed to attend together next week, Darbie cut in before he could answer.

"Oh, Maverick, you can't go to that!" she gasped, reaching out to rest her hand lightly over his on top of the table. "That is the same night as the alumni dinner in New York. You promised months ago you would take me as your guest."

Maverick looked at her hand, then shifted his gaze to me, his expression turning cold and distant again.

"Find someone else to go with you, Patricia," he said flatly, pulling his hand away from Darbie to close his laptop. "I will be in New York with Darbie next week."

He did not ask if I was okay with it. He did not apologize for ditching me.

He just chose her, casually and effortlessly, right in front of my face.

Later that afternoon, I decided to drive down to the Anderson Global headquarters. I needed to pick up some tax documents from the finance department, but mostly, I just needed to get out of the house where Darbie was busy telling the decorators how to rearrange the guest room.

The main lobby of the massive glass building was busy as usual. I walked toward the private elevators, keeping my head down, but as I passed the main break room, I heard two junior executives talking near the water cooler.

"Did you hear about the tech division?" one whispered, leaning closer to the other. "Another patent leak happened last night. Someone leaked the blueprints for the new AI drive to our main rival."

"Are you serious?" the second girl gasped. "That is the second time this month. Mr. Anderson is going to tear the whole building apart when he finds out who is doing it."

"They said the leak came from a high-level account," the first girl added, lowering her voice even more. "Someone with top-tier security clearance."

I kept walking, not paying much attention to the office gossip. Corporate drama was Maverick's business, not mine, and I had enough of my own problems to deal with today.

I got my documents from finance and drove back home, the heavy gray sky outside matching the hollow feeling in my chest.

By six o'clock, I was sitting in the living room, staring out the window at the rain starting to fall against the glass.

The front door slammed open with a loud, violent bang that made me jump out of my seat.

Maverick walked into the house, his coat soaking wet, looking more furious than I had ever seen him in five years of marriage. His sharp jaw was locked tight, his knuckles white as he gripped a thick manila folder in his right hand.

Darbie stepped out of the kitchen, looking startled by the noise, but Maverick walked right past her without saying a word.

He marched straight into the living room, his dark eyes locked onto me like a predator stalking its prey.

He lifted the folder and threw it onto the marble coffee table between us. The papers spilled out across the dark wood, showing pages of printed code, company timestamps, and official signature pages stamped with the Anderson Global seal.

"Maverick?" I asked, my voice trembling as I took a small step back from the table. "What is going on? What is all this?"

He looked me straight in the eye.

"Explain why your signature is on classified company files."

I stared at the papers.

I'd never seen them before.