Lahat ng Kabanata ng Bared To You : Kabanata 81 - Kabanata 90

Edwina The news about the attack on Max earlier this morning spread like wildfire, each telling more dramatic than the last. Some whispered that he had been gravely injured defending himself against intruders, while others claimed he was on his deathbed. Deathbed. The word alone made my stomach twist. But I knew Max better than most. Even his little finger could inflict enough pain to make someone regret ever crossing him. The man wasn’t just strong—he was relentless, and that terrified people as much as it fascinated me.I thought back to the first time he’d been robbed, on his very first day in Havindelle. He’d been weakened by illness then, too sick to deal with those men the way he normally would have. That had been the only reason they’d gotten away. If by some slim chance these attackers were the same set of people, I knew Max wouldn’t have let them go scot-free this time. Not Max. He wasn’t the type to forgive and forget—not when betrayal or violence was involved.I asked Mo

Maximillian Two weeks later“Wake up, Max.”I jerked awake, my body thrashing as though escaping from unseen hands dragging me down. The dream slipped away like smoke, but the echo of it clung to me. Before I could even take a full breath, pain tore through my chest—white-hot, searing, like someone had lodged a knife straight into my heart.I doubled over, clutching my chest with both hands, a guttural groan ripping out of me. Not again. Please, not again. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, hoping movement would dull the pain, but every second felt like I was splintering apart.Then, as suddenly as it came, the pain began to ebb. I dragged in a shaky breath, relief mixing with dread. This wasn’t random—this had meaning. It always had meaning. The last time I felt something like this, I’d been fourteen, certain death was coming for me, only to find out later it had been Georgina in danger. That memory haunted me—because it wasn’t just pain. It was a warning.I sat there, chest

Maximillian For a second, everything around me stilled. My hand froze midair, and the sound of the pool’s soft bubbling suddenly felt distant, almost muted.My great-grandmother. Jean Anne. Gone.I couldn’t process it. The woman was nearly a hundred years old — just six years shy of that milestone birthday we’d all planned to celebrate. I’d imagined her there, smiling in her usual quiet way, the same way she did whenever she scolded me for missing church. And now… she is gone. Just like Great Grandmother Bianca before her.The weight in my chest settled like a stone.“How’s Grandmother doing?” I asked quietly, afraid to hear the answer.“She’s devastated,” Dad sighed. “She lost her father two years ago, and now her mother… I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to my parents.”There was something raw in his voice — something that made me feel small again, like a boy who didn’t know how to comfort his father. I swallowed hard.“I’m sorry, Dad,” I murmured. “For not being t

Edwina Two whole days had crawled by since Esther’s kidnapping—two days of restless pacing, sleepless nights, and pretending I wasn’t falling apart inside. Every hour felt like a punishment, every minute a reminder of how powerless I was. When Max finally suggested going for a drive, I agreed without hesitation. I needed movement, distraction… anything.He drove in silence at first, the kind that felt heavy with unsaid things. His car smelled faintly of leather and cedarwood, and for a fleeting second, I focused on that instead of the dread gnawing at me. I’d asked—no, pestered—him to tell me how much the car cost, partly to annoy him, partly because normal questions felt like lifelines. He eventually told me after much eye-rolling. It almost made me smile.Almost.When we stepped out of the restaurant, reality snapped right back. A note was stuck to his windscreen, flapping slightly in the evening breeze like a taunt. My stomach dropped before I even read it.The instructions were

EdwinaI watched Miranda lift her chin, arrogance dripping from every inch of her posture. “You don’t scare me, you know,” she said to Max, smug and self-satisfied. “I’m just as royal as you are. My father is just as powerful as yours.”I almost rolled my eyes. Max stared at her for a heartbeat—blank, unreadable. For a split second, I wondered if he was calculating how many ways he could dismantle her with words alone. Then he threw his head back and laughed.Not a polite laugh.Not a restrained one.A full, unapologetic belly laugh.The sound echoed through the room, sharp and humiliating, and I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling. Miranda’s face flushed red so fast it was almost impressive. If this were a cartoon, steam would’ve been shooting from her ears.“What’s so funny?” she snapped, her voice cutting.“You,” Max said easily, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “Who else?”I felt his anger beneath the humor—controlled, simmering. Max wasn’t amused. He was offended. Deepl