Maximilian caught the curiosity in her eyes and could only shake his head.

"Amelia had a crush on Timothy for a long time," he began slowly. "But for someone like him, love was never simple." His gaze flickered, something unreadable passing through it. "And for someone like Amelia... it was never what she thought it would be."

Catherine’s brows twitched in irritation. "What does that even mean?" she asked. "I didn’t ask you how it made you feel—I asked what happened. What is that? A blurb for a book?"

He had gotten terrible at telling stories.

Maximilian let out a quiet breath. He had expected this.

"She had a crush on him. She slept with him," he said, more directly this time. "But he didn’t acknowledge her afterward. It hurt her. Then she found out she was pregnant and decided to keep the baby. When he found out, he came back to her. She didn’t want him anymore."

"Oh?"

Catherine fell silent, but her thoughts didn’t.

There were too many missing pieces. Why hadn’t he acknowledged her? What had actually happened between them? How did he find out about the pregnancy? What made him change his mind?

The questions lined up one after another, but she didn’t ask them. Maximilian had already told her everything he knew. Even if he had known more once, he wouldn’t have cared enough to remember the details she was searching for.

This was all she was going to get.

But still...

"He asked about his daughter," Catherine said slowly.

Amelia didn’t seem particularly interested in raising the child. Catherine had noticed that much. The baby spent most of her time in daycare or with her uncle.

So why not let Timothy see her? Or raise her?

Was it resentment? Was she holding on out of spite? Or worse... was the child simply a way to keep him at a distance?

Catherine exhaled softly, unsettled by her own thoughts.

Was she imagining things... or was there some truth to it?

Then, suddenly, something clicked.

"Hey," she said, reaching for Maximilian’s hand.

He had been looking out the window, faintly surprised that she hadn’t questioned him further. He wouldn’t know the answer to any more details she wanted to know. At her touch, he turned back, a hint of caution in his expression.

"What?"

"Is Charlotte a chess piece too?"

The question was quiet, but it landed hard.

Catherine felt her chest tighten even as she said it. Timothy had no way to reach Amelia except through Maximilian. And Maximilian... had been keeping his own daughter out of Timothy’s reach.

Maximilian looked at her, his jaw tightening slightly as his lips pressed into a thin line.

He should have known.

Of course, she would see it. Of course, she wouldn’t let it pass. Of course, she’d judge him for it.

"Catherine... it’s—"

He didn’t get to finish.

She shook her head, firm and unyielding. "No. Let’s not do this to that baby. Not for any reason."

The words were soft, but they carried a weight that settled between them.

He didn’t need to explain. She could already see the faint strain behind his composure, the guilt he tried to bury beneath that practiced smile. Every time she had asked about Charlotte’s father, he had deflected.

Now she knew why.

This man... loved her enough to use anything, anyone, if it meant keeping her safe.

What was she supposed to do with a love like that?

Maximilian drew in a breath, as though bracing himself. "You don’t understand what that could cost. She’s just a baby. She won’t remember anything. Once she—"

"I love you."

The words cut through everything else.

He went still.

"I love you," Catherine repeated, her voice steady, unwavering. "And I know how much you love me. But we don’t have to go this far."

There was no accusation in her tone. No anger. Just quiet certainty.

Timothy deserved a chance to be a father, whether he loved Amelia or not. Charlotte deserved that chance too. And if Timothy failed, if he proved unworthy, then they could decide what to do.

But to separate them from the start...

She couldn’t stand by that.

Maximilian let out a shaky breath and leaned his head against her shoulder, the tension in him finally slipping. Catherine tightened her hold on his hand, not letting go.

She loved him—not despite this, but beyond it. She understood the instinct behind his choices, even if she refused to accept them.

And only because she loved him, she would not let him do this anymore. He used to be a warlord. Of course, he would think this way. That didn’t mean she would not guide him.

It was still up to him to listen to her.

He lifted her hand and pressed a quiet kiss to her knuckles. "Once Timothy gets the permit for your lab that Jonathan wants to build for you..." He paused, thinking for a few more seconds. "We’ll arrange a meeting," he said.

Catherine blinked, caught off guard. "How? How would Timothy know about that? Did you speak to him?" 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

She had been there. No such conversation had happened. So when...

"No," Maximilian said. "Fitzgerald, Tim’s older brother, was there. He knows. Once Tim looks into it, he will take care of the permit."

Catherine opened her mouth, then closed it again.

So she had been right. Their relationship was transactional.

But how long would that last?

What happened when the balance shifted—when Timothy no longer found it worth it?

"If Tim starts acting, Jonathan can have your permit approved by tomorrow," Maximilian added. "It’s just... Fitzgerald is unpredictable. I don’t know which side he’ll choose. Ours, or Dorian’s."

Catherine exhaled slowly. Maybe she had stayed away from this world too long, or maybe this was simply how it worked. Quiet bargains. Invisible pressure. Decisions made in shadows.

She let out a deep breath. But she was glad Maximilian was considering her suggestion.

Dorian wouldn’t have.

She regretted thinking about her past life... but... she could already see the difference.

Can we be happy?

"Are we still going to Europe?" Maximilian asked after a moment.

She tilted her head, studying him. "Why wouldn’t we?" she said lightly. "I want my ring. I packed so many cute dresses, and you still haven’t told me where you’re taking me. Should I have packed for cold weather or something light?"

For the first time since they left, something in his expression softened completely. His eyes still carried their fatigue, but they lit up at her smile.

"It’ll be covered in snow by now," he said.

Catherine leaned in and kissed him. "I love you," she murmured again.

Maximilian leaned into her, his grip tightening around her hand as if anchoring himself to something real, something steady.

"Trust me, Catherine," he said quietly.

She met his gaze and nodded without hesitation.

"I’ll trust you."

And from the top floor, Fitzgerald watched the green Rolls-Royce roll out of the hotel and smirked.

"You’ve placed your pieces well, Maximilian... using my brother’s heart." He rolled the apple in his hand.

"Let’s see how well you play when the board pushes back."