Chapter 3: Sucking it Myself

“You threatened him?” I accused.

My fingers still gripped the phone tightly, my eyes fixed on Maximilian standing a few steps in front of me.

Maximilian's gray gaze stayed calm.

“I didn't need to threaten him.”

That short answer made my chest tighten even more.

I didn't want to believe him. But somehow, the way Maximilian said it sounded so certain that it only made me more afraid of a worse possibility.

Without wasting time, I pressed Owen's name in my contacts.

I kept my eyes on Maximilian without blinking. The man met my gaze, as if he had no intention of looking away from me for even a second.

Owen's number was unreachable. I bit my lower lip.

“Owen ... what's happening, please .…”

Before I could try again, Maximilian spoke up.

“He's on the plane.” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Try again later if you're lucky, naughty little cat.”

I looked up immediately. “Why didn't you say so earlier?!”

My irritation slipped out before I could think it through.

Maximilian fell silent. For a moment, his face showed an expression I couldn't quite read, as if no one had ever dared raise their voice at him directly before.

Beside him, Lucas and a few large men moved forward instinctively. Their gazes turned sharp toward me.

Maximilian raised one hand.

“Easy. She's my wife.” His gaze shifted to me. “She's allowed to scold me.”

All his men stopped at once.

I frowned. For some reason, that sentence only made my stomach turn.

Wife? That status existed only on a piece of paper he'd forced me to sign to save Owen. Nothing more.

Maximilian stepped closer.

“Come with me. We're leaving now.” His gaze dropped to my neck. “That wound needs to be treated too.”

I wanted to refuse. But remembering the string of threats that had come out of his mouth so far, I finally followed Maximilian's steps without a word.

The long black car was already waiting in front of the church.

Maximilian got in first. I sat beside him a few seconds later. The door shut tight. The confined space suddenly felt stifling.

I breathed in slowly, but Maximilian's soft cologne filled my senses first. A scent of wood, a touch of citrus, and something warm. Damn it! Exactly the type of scent I liked.

I turned my face to the window. The closer I was to him, the harder it became to breathe normally.

Before my thoughts could settle, Maximilian opened a small first-aid kit.

“What are you—”

“Quiet.” Maximilian took out cotton and antiseptic. Before I could pull away, his fingers were already cupping my chin carefully. I froze.

The man who, moments ago, had threatened to kill Owen was now the one cleaning the cut on my own neck. His touch was so gentle it was almost imperceptible.

I found myself staring at Maximilian's face without meaning to. His brow was slightly furrowed, completely focused on making sure the cotton didn't hurt me.

My heart started pounding fast again.

Wary. Afraid. Confused.

Everything blurred together.

I swallowed hard. I didn't know where else to look. In front of me was only Maximilian Blackridge. The cruel man who had ruined my life. And, damn it, on top of everything, the man had an almost perfect face.

His eyelashes were long. His jaw was sharp. Combined with the soft scent of his body, he was nothing like what I'd imagined a mafia king to be.

“Done.” Maximilian pressed a small bandage to the side of my neck.

I was just about to pull away when his voice sounded again. “Do something like this again, and I'll clean your wound by sucking it myself, naughty little cat.”

I froze instantly.

“What?” I blinked several times.

Unbidden, my mind pictured Maximilian's face leaning toward my neck, his lips touching my skin to draw out the blood.

I shook my head quickly.

God. What was I thinking? My reason immediately slapped that ridiculous image away.

The drive to the hotel turned out not to take long. A few minutes later, the car stopped in front of a luxurious building facing straight out onto the sea.

I stepped out slowly. A private elevator carried us up to the top floor. The moment the suite door opened, my eyes swept across the entire room.

Spacious. Elegant. Dominated by black, gray, and gold. A massive glass window stretched from floor to ceiling, revealing an expanse of blue sea shimmering under the midday sun.

The view was beautiful. Unfortunately, I had no reason whatsoever to enjoy it.

I'd only taken a few steps when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around my waist from behind.

My body tensed. Maximilian held me close. His lips brushed my earlobe gently. I shivered instinctively at the ticklish sensation.

“Don't—”

I tried to pull away.

But his arms held too tight. “We haven't had our first wedding kiss yet.”

I turned my head to look at him.

“Is that even necessary?” I asked, frowning. “We didn't marry for love.”

Maximilian gave a faint smile.

“Marriage doesn't need love.” His gaze bore straight into mine. “Look at us now.”

I tried again to break free.

“Let go of me.” His arms still held on. 

“Getting married may not need love, but keeping it together certainly does, Mr. Blackridge!” I snapped.

Maximilian went quiet. I felt his arms loosen slowly. Seizing the chance, I pulled free at once and stepped back several paces. My ragged breathing hadn't yet returned to normal.

I looked at him directly. “Don't you dare touch me again until I've made sure Owen has landed safely in the United States.”

Before Maximilian could answer, Lucas entered the suite. Lucas approached and whispered something into his boss's ear.

I couldn't make out what they were saying. But I saw Maximilian's jaw harden instantly. His gaze turned far colder than before.

Maximilian turned to me. “Stay here. And don't try to run or do anything reckless. You know I can do whatever I want to your precious Owen.”

Without waiting for my answer, Maximilian turned around. Lucas followed him out.

The suite door closed. I ran to it at once. I twisted the handle, but it wouldn't budge. I tried again. Still locked. I searched around the door for a key card or key, but found nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I was locked in.

“Damn mafia king!” I cursed, kicking the sofa leg lightly.

I swept my gaze around the room. That was when I realized there wasn't a single pair of scissors, fruit knife, or any other sharp object anywhere in sight.

I clicked my tongue in irritation. Could it be that Maximilian had deliberately removed every sharp object from this room after I'd threatened myself earlier?

Hour after hour passed. The spacious suite only grew quieter and quieter. I tried calling Owen several times, but the result stayed the same.

Without realizing it, I began glancing at the door every few minutes, waiting for Maximilian to return.

When my phone finally chimed, I grabbed it at once, my breath catching. My eyes went wide reading the sender's name.

“Owen.”

With trembling hands, I opened the message.

[I'm sorry, Emery, my love. This will be my last message. I really am a coward. Forget about me. I’ll be safer without you.]