07. Family Dinner

Ariadne had spent the entire night asleep on the sofa, her exhaustion deepened by hours of silent tears.

Feeling an odd weight over her, she slowly opened her eyes, only to find a pair of long legs planted directly in front of her face. She tilted her gaze upward and saw Maximilian, dressed casually in a black sweater, standing over her.

He looked better than last night she saw him, but still, his expression was as cold and unfeeling as ever.

Ariadne’s tired eyes narrowed into a sharp, icy stare as she remained lying on the sofa, now fully aware of who was interrupting her morning.

“The breakfast is ready,” Maximilian said with no warmth, no suggestion. “Clean up and join me.”

Ariadne let out a bitter sigh. “I don’t know why you keep showing up in front of me,” she said, her voice laced with resentment. “You say you don’t mean to make my life a living hell, yet that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

Maximilian paused, turning back to look at Ariadne, still sprawled on the sofa. “You’re right; this is exactly what I do,” he replied coldly. “And if you’re wondering why I keep showing up, it’s because we’re married—I’m your husband.”

Ariadne rolled her eyes, her expression laced with disgust. “Ugh, stop making me nauseous. That’s pathetic.”

Unfazed, Maximilian continued, “I’m planning to take you to meet my mother today, so I hope you can cooperate.”

Ariadne’s eyes flickered with cynicism as she scoffed. “What a ridiculous request.”

Maximilian heard her remark but chose to ignore it. “Eat your breakfast.”

“I don’t want to,” she replied flatly.

He stopped once again, his tone firm. “I don’t have the time or patience to entertain your rage, hatred, or whatever disgust you feel toward me. Life goes on, Ariadne. Accept it.”

“No!” Ariadne snapped, raising her voice. “Do you think I’ll ever accept you—or this marriage? Never! I don’t want breakfast, I don’t want anything to do with you, and don’t tell me what to do. I’m not your damn pet!”

Maximilian held her gaze, unmoved. Without another word, he lifted her effortlessly onto his shoulder. Ariadne gasped, struggling to free herself, but he didn’t relent.

“What the hell are you doing? Put me down!” Ariadne struggled against Maximilian, but he held her firmly, carrying her into the bedroom. Without a word, he walked to the bathroom and set her down on the cold tile floor.

To her shock, he turned on the shower, icy water hitting her skin. She jolted, instinctively raising her hands to shield herself from the spray, though it was too late—she was already soaked. She scrambled to her feet, glaring at him.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, fury in her eyes.

“Bathing you,” he replied coolly, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “You stink. For your information, you haven’t showered in two days since your escape.”

“Fuck it! Let me out!” She tried to push past him, but he blocked her path, keeping her under the spray.

“Make sure you clean yourself thoroughly,” he said, his tone emotionless, before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

Standing alone under the relentless cold water, Ariadne’s dress clung heavily to her, her eyes stinging with a mix of tears and water. She looked toward the closed door with raw hatred, feeling like a drenched, pathetic stray.

She sank to the floor, letting the tears flow freely. Her thoughts turned bitterly to the fate that had forced her into marriage with a man as cold and unfeeling as Maximilian. She felt a surge of anger toward her brother, Jax, hating him for selling her into this nightmare while he likely lived in carefree luxury, oblivious to her suffering. Now, trapped in a living hell with no way out, Ariadne felt the crushing weight of despair settle deeper into her chest.

Then, a knock echoed from the door.

“Excuse me, Madam,” a voice called softly. “I’m Heidy. Mr. Milton assigned me to help you prepare.”

As day turned to night, Maximilian indeed took Ariadne to meet his family. She had seen them at the wedding but hadn’t spoken to any of them—and had no desire to now.

Despising the marriage, Ariadne extended her disdain to everything about Maximilian, including his family, who had known about his plans yet hadn’t tried to stop him.

They arrived at the family estate under heavy security; several cars flanked theirs, moving like a royal escort. Ariadne felt only discomfort and cynicism toward the display.

Even after they arrived at the grand residence, guards continued to hover around them, their presence is excessive and intrusive. Ariadne didn’t hide her unease, though Maximilian seemed indifferent.

They finally entered the expansive dining room, where Maximilian’s family awaited. Ariadne was surprised to see the table dominated by men, with only one woman present—his mother.

“There you are, sweetheart. I’ve been waiting for you to visit,” the woman, Margareth, said warmly, rising from her seat to greet Ariadne.

Margareth embraced Ariadne softly, her warmth and politeness unmistakable. Her genuine smile made it difficult for Ariadne to maintain her hardened exterior.

Guiding her to a seat, Margareth continued her warm welcome, making sure Ariadne felt invited and comfortable at the table. Ariadne, uncertain how to respond, found herself unexpectedly surrounded by the men of Maximilian's family. She glanced at Maximilian, who sat near her in the head seat, exuding an air of authority.

Margareth expressed her delight at Ariadne’s visit, even chatting about Maximilian’s cold demeanor. She reassured Ariadne that his aloofness was merely a façade, not his true nature—a statement that made Ariadne swallow her resentment.

But then suddenly, Maximilian received a call and left the room abruptly, saying nothing. Ariadne, left behind with strangers, felt her discomfort intensify, mentally blaming him for the awkwardness.

Unnoticed by her, Gideon had been quietly observing her every move. “It must feel a bit awkward to be sitting with people you’ve never met before,” he remarked, his deep baritone drawing her attention.

Ariadne offered a polite smile, though her dislike was evident. “More than ‘a bit awkward,’” she replied curtly.

Gideon gave her an apologetic nod. “I apologize for your discomfort, Madam. They’re here merely as representatives for their parents.”

Ariadne’s eyes narrowed. “What is this, a kindergarten gathering?”

“Pffft!” Someone couldn’t stifle his laugh. Ariadne turned to see a tall man with bright brown eyes, a cheerful expression lighting up his face. “Apologies, Madam,” he said with a grin. “I'm Sebastian Whittaker, Max's cousin.”

Ariadne didn’t respond or smile, making it clear she felt no need to hide her disinterest in Maximilian’s relatives.

Setting her spoon down, she said, “I think I’m full. I’ll go get some fresh air.” Without waiting for a reply, she left the room.

Ariadne wandered through the estate, determined to escape the stifling atmosphere inside. “This is revolting. I can’t stand any of them,” she muttered, only to feel her irritation spike as Andymon and Patrick appeared, following her closely.

“Could you two please stop trailing me?” she demanded.

Andymon, looking composed, replied, “I apologize, Madam, but Mr. Milton instructed us to stay with you.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’m just taking a walk around here—inside this estate. What’s next? Should I wear a choker leash?” Ariadne muttered irritably.

Patrick, unfazed, replied, “Apologies, Madam, but you don’t need to mind us; we’re only here to ensure your safety.”

Annoyed, Ariadne turned back sharply. “Forget it—I’ll just go back inside!” But she halted abruptly, surprised to see someone standing a little way off. It was Gideon.

Andymon and Patrick inclined their heads respectfully to Gideon. As he approached Ariadne, he gave a polite yet chilling smile. “Could we have a moment to chat?” he asked, his tone courteous yet cold, his gaze fixed intently on her. Ariadne felt a flicker of unease and, for a fleeting moment, wished that Andymon and Patrick would stay close.