"Battered and wrecked,
I come to you, you first—"

•────•°•❀•°•────•

Max's POV

"So, will you ever tell me what happened with your parents?" Valerie asked, her voice soft as she leaned into me. My arm instinctively wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer until she was nestled perfectly against my side. Her scent—sweet, familiar—filled my lungs, grounding me in a way that nothing else could.

It was like the world calmed the moment she was in my arms, the chaos inside me ebbing away.

I glanced down at her, unable to resist teasing her, "I'll tell you if you kiss me," I said. Her head tilted up, her eyes meeting mine with a playful yet unfazed look, as if she knew exactly what I was trying to do and refused to let me win that easily. God, I loved that about her.

Smiling, I reached out with my other hand and gently pinched her adorable nose.

After her shift, I picked her up, grabbed takeouts, and came here. We were parked at the overlook, the same one I'd brought her to before, where the world felt far away and it was just the two of us. It was quiet, secluded—perfect. No risk of being caught. As much as I wanted to shout to the whole damn world that she was mine again, I respected her boundaries, her need for privacy. I would do it her way, for now.

"A small peck on the cheek?" she bargained, her eyebrow raising in a challenge.

I shook my head, "A kiss to the lips," I said, my voice firm but playful.

She sighed, narrowing her eyes as if weighing her options, "A small peck to the lips?" She was bargaining her way to victory and winning.

"Fine," I sighed dramatically, feigning defeat.

Her smile widened as she edged closer, closing the gap between us with the kind of innocence that could drive a man insane. She pressed a light kiss to my lips, barely there, a whisper of a touch, and just as she was about to pull back, I couldn't resist anymore. I've missed her way too much to let go now. My hand slid to the side of her neck, fingers resting against her soft skin, and before she could retreat, I leaned in and captured her lips fully.

The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, as I savored every second, every sensation. Her lips were warm, soft, and the taste of her—sweet, intoxicating—ignited something primal in me. I felt her exhale softly into the kiss, her breath mingling with mine, and my heart raced. I tilted my head, changing the angle just slightly, deepening the connection as my thumb brushed along her jawline, tenderly tracing the contours of her face.

She responded, her hesitation melting away as she leaned into me, her hand sliding up my chest, fingers curling into my shirt, as if needing something to hold onto. The air between us shifted, thick with tension, the kind that pulled you in and refused to let go.

My lips moved against hers, slow but hungry, tasting, teasing, drawing her closer. Each second felt like it stretched out, like the world outside that overlook had disappeared, and all that mattered was this moment, the heat building between us, her soft whimpers getting lost in the kiss.

Her hands were on my shoulders now, fingers digging in just enough to send a spark through me. She was breathless when we finally broke apart, and I kept my forehead resting against hers, our breaths mingling as we both struggled to steady the racing of our hearts.

"Now," I whispered against her mouth, "About my parents..."

Me bringing this topic right after we'd kissed like there was no tomorrow, had her chuckle softly. She leaned back just slightly, her gaze settling on me with such softness that it made my heart constrict in the most painful, beautiful way. I couldn't look away. I couldn't stop drinking her in, memorizing every detail of her face, committing it to the deepest parts of my memory, where it would stay forever.

Her lips were slightly swollen, flushed pink from the kiss. Her eyes had that little spark in them, like she was enjoying this as much as me. The tip of her nose was reddened from the cool breeze that swept past us, and her hair—God, her hair—fell in soft waves around her face, framing her like a portrait of something divine. Her freckles, scattered like stars across her nose and cheeks, only added to her natural beauty, like little constellations I wanted to trace with my fingers. She was breathtaking in a way I could never quite put into words.

"What?" Valerie asked, noticing me staring for too long, the notion had her cheeks turn a soft shade of pink.

I shook my head slowly, my fingers trailing over her soft skin as I whispered, "I was just wondering how I survived these past two months without you," My voice was low, almost reverent, because I knew for a fact I couldn't ever do it again.

She opted to turn it playful, trying her best not to discuss what transpired before, her eyes narrowed at me, the corner of her mouth lifting into a small smile, "If you think sweet-talking me is going to make me forget what I asked, you're wrong," she said, "You got your kiss. Now spill."

I smiled and nodded my head, "Okay, I'll tell you everything," I promised, the playfulness in my voice fading as my gaze softened, "I don't want to hide anything from you, Valerie. Not anymore."

Her eyes softened, and I took a steadying breath, knowing what I had to explain wasn't going to be easy. But she deserved to know every little detail from now on.

"There are a few things you need to understand first," I began, my hand moving to cover hers, my fingers curling gently over hers, "About how I found out about David, and how we were able to get to him," I watched her eyes shift, a flicker of tension crossing her face as the memories resurfaced.

I tightened my grip on her hand, "When I told you my family has an army," I said, my voice calm but serious, "I wasn't exaggerating. And it's not just my parents—it's the rest of my family. They're involved in something bigger, something I didn't know how to explain to you before."

Valerie's brows knit together, a flicker of confusion clouding her eyes. Sensing her uncertainty, I tried to clarify, though the words caught in my throat, "They're part of the..." I hesitated, searching for the right way to say it without actually saying it, "the illegal world."

Her confusion deepened, her brows pinching tighter, "Illegal world?" she repeated, clearly trying to wrap her head around it.

"Yeah," I murmured, my voice almost apologetic. She seemed to be processing it, thinking it through, her sharp mind working before the realization struck. Her eyes widened, just slightly at first, then a bit more as she leaned closer, whispering cautiously, like the truth itself was too dangerous to say out loud, "Wait, you don't mean..." She paused, searching my face for some sign she was wrong, "The ma...mafia?"

I gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, and her reaction was immediate—her eyes flew open wide, her mouth slightly agape in disbelief. "What the—" she whispered, her voice barely audible as the shock rippled through her, shaking her to her core. She looked at me as if she were trying to reconcile the man she knew with this new reality, struggling to digest the revelation.

"Yeah," I muttered, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck. "I only found out after the whole kidney transplant...and everything else that happened."

For a moment, all she could do was stare, her expression a mixture of bewilderment and speechless disbelief, "Oh my god," she finally whispered, her voice barely above a breath, "This is...I don't even know what to say."

I gave her a small, understanding nod, "Yeah, I figured," I said softly.

Her gaze flickered as she tried to piece it all together, still reeling from the weight of the revelation. She managed a half-chuckle, though her voice was laced with disbelief, "Now the fact that you have two fathers doesn't sound so weird anymore," she murmured, almost to herself, as if making sense of everything.

I raised an eyebrow at her unexpected comment, and she pressed her lips into a thin line, silently urging me to continue.

"So when I found out about David," I began, gathering myself, "I went to Nikolas for help." Her eyes never left mine, intent on understanding every word as she slowly nodded, like she was trying to fit the jagged pieces of this puzzle together, "I knew he'd find him with just a snap of his fingers," I explained, my voice low and steady.

"And he did," She mumbled lowly and I nodded, "Yeah, he did."

For a moment, she was lost in her thoughts, and I could see the gears turning in her mind, trying to make sense of everything, "It's not ideal, I know," I added, "But that's why I need you to trust and believe in me," I said, "I need you to know that there is no way David is getting away with any of this."

I saw her throat bob, her eyes shifting away as if the mention of David alone made the air around us heavier. It was still hard for her to talk about it, and I didn't blame her, "And in the name of not hiding anything from you," I started, preparing her, "I should tell you that Nikolas has some of his men looking after you," I said, and her eyes widened again, "Also, after your mother and Reneé, just in case David tries to pull something."

She looked at me like I had grown another head, "What?" She gaped. Her bewildered eyes flickered around us, "Is he here now?" She asked in utter shock.

I gave a small nod, glancing around as if I could spot one of them lurking in the shadows, "Yeah, probably hiding somewhere," My words only added terror into her gaze and I resumed my lie, "And probably watched us have a little makeout a while ago—"

Before I could finish the sentence, she shoved me away, her eyes flashing with a mix of outrage and embarrassment, clearly gearing up to either punch me or throw me off the edge.

I chucked lowly and pulled her back to me, "I am kidding, I am kidding," I said, calming down that wild tiger in her eyes, "He is only there when you are alone, just to make sure you're safe, Valerie," I said, my voice turning back to serious, "I wish it doesn't have to be this way, but we need to be cautious," I shook my head, the light in my eyes dimming, "We can't let what happened the last time repeat. I can't let it happen again."

Her chest rose and fell, her breaths shallow as she tried to calm down, processing everything I'd just unloaded on her, "I really wish I didn't kiss you," She grumbled, rushing a hand over her face, regretting asking me to tell her about this in the first place.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked quietly, scanning her face for any hint of how she was feeling.

She gave me a look I couldn't quite understand, "I am not sure what to feel about any of this," She replied, shaking her head at the whole situation.

"I am only thinking about your safety, that's all," I said, it was the only truth I knew.

For a moment, her eyes searched mine, and I could see her guard slowly starting to come down. Her gaze softened as she whispered, "To the point that you went and asked help from the man you swore never to talk to again," She mumbled, as if coming to terms with it herself.

I nodded my head, I was ready to do everything and anything for her, I wished she'd believe in that, "Yeah, see, that's how much I l—" The words were slipping out of my lips ever so normally that I had to stop myself and take control, "—I care about you," I corrected myself, biting the inside of my cheek to get a grip and not just confess my feelings like this.

She nibbled on her lower lip, nervous energy radiating off her. Everything I had revealed, everything we were finally talking about out loud, was pulling her far out of her comfort zone. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her brows furrowed in thought, "And your parents?" she asked, her voice small.

"I hid this part from them," I answered, "The whole asking help from Nikolas and all," I added, "Dad figured it out and he wasn't so happy," I explained, our last conversation hitting me hard again, "He has tried so hard to keep us out of that life and far away from it. So, he didn't like that I was purposely pushing myself back into it."

Valerie's brow furrowed further as she tried to understand. "But you just asked for his help?" she questioned softly, still grappling with the enormity of it all.

"Well, and I also asked Nikolas to train me," I added.

Her eyes grew a bit wide, "Train you?" She asked, her eyes involuntarily flickering to my chest as if recalling a memory, "Woah, no wonder you looked...extra ripped—" She was mumbling it lowly, as if voicing her inner thoughts out loud but she stopped herself when the giddy smile started to form over my lips.

She immediately rolled her eyes, "Why did I say that," She grumbled, scolding herself, "How could I ever say that when I know it will feed your everlasting ego."

I nudged her with my elbow, "Gingy, were you checking me out in the bathroom?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, her expression stern as she looked away, "I'm not dignifying that with a response," she said flatly.

I couldn't help but chuckle, and without hesitation, I draped my arm around her back, pulling her closer to me. Any excuse to keep her near felt like a victory, "Come on, just admit it. You like me way too much," I murmured as I pecked her cheek, trying to coax a reaction, but she kept up her indifferent act, refusing to give me the satisfaction.

Gently, I cupped her chin, tilting her face so she had no choice but to meet my eyes, "Why are you always so grumpy?" I teased, hoping to break through that wall she always kept up.

"I told you," She said, ever so defensive, "Being mean is my love language."

I smiled, "You're so in love with me, then, aren't you," Even though my words were playful, I wished for them to be true. I know that she felt something toward me, I just wasn't sure if it had reached that stage yet. That flicker of hesitation in her eyes left me terrified, scared that I was treading a path down this area alone, that she wouldn't ever join me where I am now.

The fake annoyance faded from her gaze at my words and in their place came something else entirely, something so tender I couldn't understand. She brought her hand up, and it rested over my cheek, her eyes tracing the movements her fingers made as she gently brushed the top of my cheek, "Thank you," She whispered so softly, making my heart stutter at her mere touch.

My eyebrows pulled closer, "For what?"

"For doing all of this, for looking after me," She murmured.

I shook my head, my hand slipping away from her face to rest over hers. "Valerie, you don't have to thank me for that—"

"But you need to promise me something, Max," She added, "Promise me you'll be careful. That you won't put yourself in danger for this, for me." Her grip tightened slightly, her eyes searching mine, needing that reassurance, that confirmation that I wouldn't throw myself into the fire. Truth is, if it was needed, I would endure all the danger just for her to stay safe. I would let the flames eat me alive but not allow a flicker of them to whisper near her. Fuck, I am so screwed, aren't I?

I nodded my head nevertheless, "I promise."

Her shoulders eased just slightly, and I saw it then—the fear that she'd lose me, that I meant more to her than she was ready to admit. And somehow, that was much more than enough for now.

•────•°•❀•°•────•

It was around ten when I got back to the bunker after dropping Valerie off, my phone buzzing with Jeremy's text letting me know everyone had already left. The place was quiet, save for the low hum of the air conditioner and the distant buzz of city life, muffled by layers of concrete. I paused by the couch where I'd planned to crash, noticing the neatly placed pillows and blanket, folded with care, as if expecting me.

My lips twitched into a faint smile, just as Jeremy appeared from the other room, his footsteps soft against the floor, "Thank you," I said, nodding toward the small setup he'd prepared for me, "You didn't have to."

He shook his head like it was nothing, "I also stocked more water and snacks in the fridge, you know, just in case you need something later," he said, gesturing toward the kitchen, playing the role of the perfect host even in this makeshift sanctuary.

I sank onto the couch, leaning back into the cushion as I took him in, "Thanks," I said, "You're a really good guy, Jeremy," I said, more genuine than I'd intended. There was something about him, warmth and goodness, that was hard to miss, like he carried decency even in a place that felt so far from it.

"So, how does a good guy like you end up in a place like this," I couldn't help but ask.

He sat across from me, his brow furrowing slightly, "You're saying that like this is some very terrible place," he said, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Isn't it?"

He shrugged again, but this time it felt heavier, "Depends on how you look at it," he said, leaving the answer in a grey area, as if the lines between right and wrong had blurred long ago.

I studied him for a moment longer, curiosity gnawing at me, "Seriously though...how?"

He glanced at me, his expression shifting, the playful ease from before slipping away, "You mean how did I meet Nikolas?" he asked, catching onto the real question—the one I hadn't quite put into words. I nodded, waiting, intrigued by the unwavering loyalty he seemed to have for the man who I couldn't fully understand.

Jeremy leaned back in his seat, exhaling softly as he went down that memory lane, "Well, where do I start," he murmured, eyes clouding over with memories, "It all happened when I was still in college and found out my little brother had leukemia," His voice dipped, a shadow crossing his face, and my brows knit together, sensing the weight of what was coming.

"The treatment bills started piling up...more than we could ever afford," He added, "I got desperate, and started working for some very bad people, doing hacking jobs in exchange for cash."

My brows furrowed as I listened, feeling a heavy weight settle in my chest.

"I'm not proud of it," he continued, a hint of shame coloring his words, "But I didn't see any other way. The jobs kept piling up, and the things they asked me to do...it got darker, dirtier. I didn't know how much more I could handle," His gaze darkened, the light in his eyes dimming slightly as he revisited those memories, "So, one day, I said no. I refused to do what they asked."

"They didn't take it well. Beat me within an inch of my life, threatened my family, my brother..." His voice wavered for a moment before he continued, "They left me on the street to die."

His lips curled into a bitter smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. "I don't know if it was luck, fate, or something else, but Nikolas happened to be driving by. He saw them toss me on the side of the road like trash, and he...picked me up."

Jeremy's eyes drifted around the room, "When I woke up, I was in a place like this one. All safe, and patched up."

I felt something inside me stir as he continued, "I didn't know who Nikolas was back then, had no idea what he did. But when he asked me about what happened, I told him everything. I was probably still out of it from all the meds he gave me," he added with a quiet chuckle, though the humor didn't mask the rawness in his voice.

"Then, he offered me this job," Jeremy said, meeting my gaze again, "Told me I didn't have to worry about the guys who hurt me—that they wouldn't be a problem anymore. And true to his word, they disappeared. To this day, I don't know what he did to them, and honestly, I don't want to know."

My throat tightened as his words sunk in. There was a tenderness in the way he spoke about Nikolas, a loyalty forged through a shared darkness I couldn't quite grasp.

"And not only that," Jeremy added, his eyes brightening with a gratitude ages old, "Without me even asking, he paid all of my debts, and took care of my brother's medical bills. Every last one of them."

I stared at him, my mind reeling. He smiled faintly, that warmth returning to his expression. "I know when you look at him, you see a bad man. But Nikolas...he saved my life. He was good to me when no one else was, he was good to me even back when everyone else saw him as the villain."

His words erupted a weird feeling in my chest, unearthing something I hadn't been prepared for, forcing me to see another layer of Nikolas I wasn't ready to see or accept.

To me, he had been a means to an end these past months. But now, hearing this, made me question everything. To me, he had been a weapon, something to wield. But Jeremy's story made him look...human, with feelings and empathy.

Jeremy must have sensed my reluctance to continue the conversation, his eyes reading my need for space. With a brief goodbye, he left me alone, leaving the air around me thick with my tangled thoughts. I sank into the cushions, exhaustion pulling at every part of me, but my mind wouldn't quiet down. I pulled out my phone, its screen lighting up with a dozen missed calls from Mom. A sigh escaped my lips before I dialed her number.

It didn't even ring twice before she answered, her voice cracking with worry, "Max."

"Hey, mom," I whispered lowly.

There was a sharp inhale of relief on her end, as if she'd been holding her breath this whole time. "Max, can you please come back home so we can talk about this?" She said, her voice laced with a hundred emotions I could feel even through the phone.

I closed my eyes, the heaviness in my chest doubling, "Mom, I just need a few days...some space. I'll come back, I promise. But right now, I—" I paused, searching for words that didn't sound like excuses, "I need to clear my head, or I'll end up saying things, doing things, and hurting Dad again, just like what happened," The guilt clung to me, suffocating, a constant weight pressing down on me.

Her silence stretched too long, the unspoken disapproval making the space between us feel wider. "But your medicines...you're not taking them, and they're still here," she murmured, her voice soft but full of concern.

"I'll buy new ones tomorrow morning, I promise," I assured her.

Another beat of silence, then her voice, smaller, quieter, "Okay...just be careful. Take care of yourself, Max."

"I will, I promise," I said.

A stuttered breath pushed out of my lips, "I love you, Mom, so much, and I am sorry," The apology barely came out, jagged and raw.

She didn't let me off the hook, though, "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," Her words were gentle, but they cut deep.

"I know," I whispered, the guilt swirling again, coiling tighter.

"I'll talk to you later, okay," I added, feeling the tightness in my chest only intensify.

"Okay. And if you need anything, anything at all, you'll call me, right?" Her voice was filled with a mother's endless concern, the kind of love that hurts because it makes you realize how much you didn't deserve it.

A small, tired smile tugged at my lips, "Of course. Who else would I call?"

"I love you, my boy," she whispered, and I could hear the tears she was holding back, "Your father and I...we need you back here. So don't stay away too long, okay?"

I nodded, though the ache in my chest had grown unbearable, my mind swirling with regrets and memories that seemed to twist themselves into something darker, "Okay," I murmured, though the word felt fragile, like a promise I wasn't sure I could keep.

•────•°•❀•°•────•

Two Days Later...

In the middle of the lecture, my gaze instinctively found Valerie's. It was like we had our own silent language these days—she caught my eye immediately, her lips twitched into a small smile and I couldn't help but throw her a wink. She ushered me with her hand to look away, scared anyone would catch our stolen gazes.

When the break time came, I turned to Cole, ready to set our plan to torture our friends some more in motion, "Cole," I said, grabbing his bored gaze to me, "I need your help," I added.

His eyebrows pulled closer, "Yeah?"

"I want to talk to Valerie," I started to say and his eyes grew wide, "Really?" He said, leaning forward in his seat, and I could swear the life came back to his eyes. I tried to suppress my smile, why was he so invested in this?

"Yeah, but I need your help to take her friend out of my way," I said and Cole was already on his feet, "Yeah, yeah, sure, come on," He said, his hand grabbing on my sleeves and pulling me in their direction, ever so ready to get his assigned mission done.

He paused by their side, Valerie's eyes flickered up to him, then back to me, and back to him. Cole smiled, ever so sheepishly, "Hey," He said and leaned closer, wrapping his hand over Tanya's wrist and pulling her up. Startled, her eyes widened and the lipstick she was applying fell from her grip, "What the—" She shot out, her eyes glaring at Cole as he forcefully dragged her away, "Walk, this is more important!" He hissed at her.

My gaze flickered from their retreating backs to Valerie. She was looking at them as well before she faced me, "We should just tell them," She said, her lip curling into a cute pout.

"But this is more fun," I said, my lips twitching.

She narrowed her eyes at me, "You're so mean," She said.

I pressed my palm over the desk and leaned closer to her, "Look who's talking."

Her gaze involuntarily flickered to my lips before they went to my eyes, they slightly drifted to the side, before she glanced back at me, "They're looking at us," She pointed out, "So, should I slap you this time?" She smiled ever so evilly, "Or punch you? or step on your feet? Or kick you where the sun won't shine again? I mean they're all very tempting options."

"Your pick, gingy," I said, any touch from her was like balm to me.

With that evil accomplished smile of hers, she lifted herself up, moved closer, and stomped so harshly over my feet. She wasn't acting, she was really putting all of her power into it, which erupted a low groan from me as I stepped backward, "You're an aggressive little thing, aren't you," I grumbled out, fake glaring at her.

"Yeah, you're not the only one who works out," She said, ever so proudly, enjoying this parody more than she should.

She glanced over to where Cole and Tanya were standing, both of them pretending not to watch, even though their curiosity was written all over their faces. Valerie snickered, barely holding in her laughter, "Seriously, we should tell them. Look at Cole—he's turning pale."

I glanced at him, catching his nervous expression before he quickly looked away, pretending to be deep in conversation with Tanya, "Or," I said, leaning closer, my eyebrow raising, "We could give them a taste of their own medicine."

Her eyes lit up, her lips twitching into an excited smile, "Oh, Cole and Tanya?" She chuckled, the gears in her mind already turning, "That would be epic."

I nodded, "Exactly."

"Alright, I'm in," she said, clearly enjoying the prospect of messing with our friends as much as I was, "But for now," she added, her tone suddenly shifting into one of pure innocence, "I still need to slap you. Gotta make this believable."

I narrowed my eyes at her, fighting a smile, "You're enjoying this way too much, aren't you."

She nodded her head, her eyes so full of life that it made my heart stutter once again. I'd kill to have her look at me like this forever. "Okay," I sighed, giving up, "Go ahead."

Just as I finished my words, she raised her hand, more than ready to slap me but I acted faster, my fingers wrapped around her wrist, stopping her movements midway. With my grip, I pulled her closer to me and her chest bumped into my own. I edged my face to hers, crowding all of her personal space and drinking into my favorite scent in this whole big world.

Her eyes widened and I could feel her heartbeat quicken under my fingers, "What are you doing?" she hissed, her voice barely a whisper.

I couldn't help myself—my eyes drifted to her lips, the temptation to kiss her right then and there almost overwhelming. But instead, I leaned in, my voice low, "One day, I am going to fuck that mean attitude out of your system," I said; I mean, if I'm gonna get slapped, let it at least be worth it, "And you're going to enjoy it very much."

Her cheeks flushed red, the heat creeping up her neck as I let go of her wrist. It took her a moment to recover, but when she did, she slapped me, though I could tell she held back, not wanting to actually hurt me.

I made a show of it, staggering back, clutching my cheek dramatically with a pained grimace. "Ouch, meanie," I muttered under my breath, throwing her a sly wink as I backed away. Her lips twitched like she was fighting the urge to laugh, she covered her mouth as she sat down, trying to keep her composure.

As I slid back into my seat, Cole wasted no time in joining me, all of his attention on us, "Dude, what the hell have you done to the girl?" He asked, trying to make sense of how every time we're together, chaos erupts all around us.

I shrugged, "Believe me, I'm asking myself the same question," I said, half-joking, half-completely baffled by the magnetic disaster that was us.

I looked back at their side, watching as Tanya tried to investigate the whole situation, throwing one question after another at Valerie, who kept silent and shrugged, pretending to be annoyed at the mere mention of my name, rolling her eyes as if she couldn't care any less.

But then, her gaze flicked to mine for the briefest second, and just like that, her whole tough-girl act faltered. Her eyes softened, betraying the indifference she was trying so hard to project. And I—like a complete idiot—felt my heart do that stupid teenage flutter thing, my chest tightening, my stomach flipping over itself like it was caught in some wild, gravity-defying loop.

What in god's name was I supposed to do to cure this damned condition? It really feels like a disease...

•────•°•❀•°•────•

"Just go and ask Aubrey where Valeie is," I gestured for Cole to move, setting phase two of Valerie's and my little revenge plan into action.

Cole wasted no time, sliding up to the counter with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball, "Hey, beautiful," he said with a cocky grin, his voice dripping with charm. Aubrey barely looked up from her phone, flashing him a smile so fake it could've been made of plastic, "What do you want, Cole?" she asked, clearly unimpressed.

He glanced around like he was about to ask for directions in a foreign country, "Do you know where Valerie is?" he said, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably.

Without lifting her gaze fully, Aubrey lazily pointed toward the back room, "She's in the kitchen," she replied with utter indifference.

Cole glanced over at me for reassurance. I waved him on, urging him to keep going. He rolled his eyes and, with a sigh, marched around the counter, pushing the back door open like he was walking into his own doom.

As soon as he was inside, Valerie appeared from her hiding spot, and we walked over to Aubrey, who casually locked the door from the outside with a satisfying click. A big grin spread across her face as she turned the key, "Locking him up feels way better than it should," she said, her tone gleeful as she became the perfect partner in our crime.

From the other side of the door, we heard the knob jiggle, "Uh, guys," Cole's voice came, muffled but unmistakably panicked, "I think the door got locked," He knocked once, then again, louder, "Anyone hearing me? Aubrey?"

A beat later, we heard a low shriek from Cole, "Holy hell, Barbie, is that you?" he yelped, clearly realizing who else was trapped in there. Valerie had sneakily let Tanya in earlier, and from the sounds of it, Cole was finally putting two and two together.

"Oh Max, I'm going to kill you!" Cole grumbled, his frustration palpable. I couldn't help but chuckle at his misery.

Tanya's voice could be heard, chattering away, most likely giving Cole a verbal lashing about something trivial. The occasional "Are you even listening to me?" and "Cole, this is your damn fault!" drifted through the door.

Cole's panic level was rising. He banged harder against the door, his voice pitched slightly higher, "Okay, this isn't funny anymore! Let me out, I'm not built for this kind of mental torture!"

Aubrey, clearly enjoying every second, casually leaned against the counter, a devilish glint in her eyes, "Should we keep them in there until tomorrow?" she asked.

Valerie chuckled, shaking her head, "Nah, let them stew for a bit," She said, "You can let them out when you close up."

From behind the door, Cole's voice grew more desperate, "When she closes up?! That's hours from now!" There was a pause, then a resigned groan, "Barbie, please, for the love of all that's holy, stop whining! I am stuck in here just like you are...and no, no, it's not my fault—" He grumbled loudly, clearly engrossed in a heated conversation with her, "Gosh, I don't care that you have a nail appointment! Max—" He banged on the door once more, ever so desperate, "Get me out of here or I swear to god—"

"Doesn't feel so good, does it?" I called out, chuckling.

Another groan, "This is so not fair."

Tanya's voice picked right back up, her scolding now reaching a fever pitch. Poor Cole was probably banging his head against the door by now, the sounds of his slow defeat echoing through the room. We heard him sigh heavily, "Someone kill me now."

•────•°•❀•°•────•

Nikolas's POV

I arrived at the bunker late at night, needing to check up on a few things before I went back home. The keypad beeped as I typed in the code, and the heavy metal door slid open with a soft hiss. As I stepped in, rubbing my neck, trying to shake off the fatigue of the day, I wasn't expecting anything unusual. But when I turned the corner, my steps came to a halt and I froze.

My eyes fell on Max, resting on one of the couches in the resting area, totally asleep, with a little blanket covering his body.

My breath caught in my throat as I took him in, my eyebrows pulled closer in confusion. Alex and Cara had told me he hadn't been home since our last encounter. I assumed he'd been staying with a friend, but never did I expect to find him here, in this cold, uncomfortable place.

On quiet, careful steps, I moved closer, almost afraid to disturb the stillness of the moment. I crouched beside him, my eyes tracing over his features—the sharp lines of his jaw softened in sleep, his brow no longer furrowed with the anger or frustration he always showed me. His face, looked peaceful now, vulnerable in a way that twisted my heart.

His hair had fallen over his forehead, shadowing his eyes. My fingers twitched with an ache that had been buried for too long, a yearning to reach out and touch him, to offer a gentleness I hadn't allowed myself. I hesitated, my hand hovering just above his head, before I gave in and brushed the strands away with the softest of touches.

The feeling was strange—both foreign and familiar at once.

Swallowing past the confusion clouding my chest and brain, I moved my hand and gently rested it over his shoulder, "Max," I whispered, shaking him awake, not willing to keep him in here no matter what.

He didn't stir at first, just a subtle twitch in his brow as if he was lost in a dream. Just as I called his name again, he jolted awake. His eyes flew open, startled. He blinked, confused, his gaze darting around the room before landing on me. The surprise in his eyes was immediate, followed closely by a guarded wariness, as though he couldn't quite believe I was standing here in front of him.

I stood, giving him space as he quickly sat up, rubbing his eyes and raking a hand through his hair, now even messier from sleep. He glanced at me again, still wary, a defensive wall so high got pulled up between us.

The silence between us grew heavy, filled with the weight of unspoken and unresolved words.

"So, this is where you've been crashing over the past days," I asked, but I wasn't exactly waiting for an answer.

Max shifted uncomfortably, his jaw tightening as he looked away, refusing to meet my eyes. The silence was his answer.

"Come on," I said quietly, but firmly, breaking the stillness. "Gather your things. You're not staying here," He glanced at me, his eyes narrowing in defiance. I met his gaze, my tone leaving no room for argument, "I'm either taking you home, or you're coming with me. Your pick."

His lips parted to object but I shook my head, "It's either this or that, Max. Don't test my patience," I said, strictly, my voice giving him no place for negotiation.

He glared back at me, "I don't want to go back home," he stated.

I nodded, not missing a beat. "Alright, then you're coming with me."

His jaw clenched, his fists curling tightly on his lap, the frustration radiating off him, "I don't want to intrude on your perfect little family," he spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I didn't rise to the bait. I simply nodded toward his bag, "Get your stuff. We're leaving."

His eyes locked onto mine, a silent war waging between us, but it was over almost as quickly as it began. With a frustrated huff, he stood, his movements sharp and irritated as he snatched up his things. He slung his bag over his shoulder, deliberately brushing past me, his shoulder connecting with mine in a not-so-subtle display of anger.

I let out a low, measured breath, suppressing the tension coiled in my chest. Without a word, I turned on my heel and followed him. I unlocked the car, my voice firm and leaving no room for argument, "Get in."

He didn't bother arguing, just released a sharp breath of his own and slid into the passenger seat. His defiance simmered in the way he slammed the door shut, the sound echoing between us. I got in beside him, the engine roaring to life beneath my hands as I drove forward, abandoning whatever work had brought me here in the first place.

"Your parents are worried about you," I said, my voice quieter now.

He didn't respond, just leaned against the window, arms crossed tightly over his chest, like he was physically trying to shut me out. His silence was louder than any words, a wall between us that only seemed to grow higher with every passing second.

I glanced at him, my own frustration seeping in. "I was worried about you," I admitted.

His gaze flicked to mine, eyes dark with exhaustion and something sharper, something harder. "Look," he started, his voice rough and worn, "I'm tired. I haven't slept in days. I'm only going with you because I'm too exhausted to fight anymore, but I'd really rather you not talk," He sighed, the edge in his tone slicing through the car like a blade, "Okay?"

A sharp breath escaped my lungs as I tapped my fingers over the steering wheel, forcing my focus back on the road. "Okay."

•────•°•❀•°•────•

Max's POV

Nikolas's wife, Natalie, was, undeniably, one of the kindest people I'd ever met. It puzzled me, to be honest. I'd seen it in all our past encounters—her warmth and gentle demeanor—and it left me wondering what the hell had been going through her mind when she decided to marry someone like him. Seriously.

"If you need anything," she said softly, her smile tender as she stood by the doorway of the guest room she'd offered me. "I'm just down the hall."

I forced a tight smile, a nod of acknowledgment, though the only thing I really wanted was for morning to come, so I could make my escape. "Thanks," I mumbled.

"Goodnight, Max," she added, her voice laced with a softness that made me feel oddly guilty about my thoughts. With that, she turned and left, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her.

As soon as she was gone, I let out a long, frustrated sigh and collapsed onto the edge of the bed. My head dropped into my hands as if the weight of this mess was too much to bear, the familiar feeling of being lost creeping back in, gnawing at me.

Every path I tried to take seemed blocked, every decision impossible. I couldn't commit to anything, couldn't figure out how to claw my way out of this mess, this tangled web of emotions and frustration that seemed to consume me more every day.

The faint creak of the door pulled me from my thoughts. I lifted my head slowly, and there, standing in the doorway, was a tiny adorable figure. Her wide, curious green eyes met mine, still glazed with sleep, her little face framed by soft waves of messy, light brownish hair. She clutched an old, worn-out teddy bear in her small hands, her grip loose as if she'd just woken up and dragged it along with her.

Her pajamas were adorably mismatched—one sleeve hanging slightly lower than the other, with playful patterns of stars and moons scattered across the soft fabric. She looked so impossibly small in the doorframe, her round cheeks flushed from sleep, her lips parted slightly as she stared at me in sleepy confusion.

I straightened up slightly, caught off guard by her presence, and for a moment, the tension that had been knotted in my chest since I'd arrived here seemed to loosen. My lips curled up into a soft smile, "Hey," I said.

She blinked, rubbing her eye with a fist, and then hugged her teddy bear a little closer to her chest before she walked further into the room, "Hi," She mumbled lowly.

Her wonderous eyes flickered around before they fell into me, "You'll sleep here?" she asked, her little brows furrowing in confusion, like she was trying to piece together something that didn't quite make sense.

I nodded, "Looks like it," I said quietly.

She tilted her head, studying me with that unfiltered curiosity only children have, her face a mirror of innocent confusion. "You're Max, right?" she asked, still trying to figure out exactly where I fit into her small world. We'd met before—brief encounters that meant nothing, really, yet now her question hit differently. I nodded again, "Yeah, that's me."

"I'm Maria," she said, like it was the first time she really felt like I was paying attention to her.

"I know," I replied softly.

Her brows drew together even more, deepening the confusion on her face. "You do?" She hesitated, then added, "But...you never talk to me before."

I leaned forward, lowering myself to her level, looking directly into her eyes. There was so much of me in her face, features we had in common, things I didn't share with her older brother. That truth settled uncomfortably inside me. "No, I didn't," I admitted quietly, the words weighing more than I expected, "We should change that, don't you think?"

Her face brightened with a soft smile, a tiny spark of excitement lighting her eyes. "Yes," she whispered, like I had just promised her something important.

I smiled before I reached forward, lifting her onto my lap. She was so small, warm, and fragile. The weight of her presence, of who she was, pressed on me in a way I wasn't prepared for. "Shouldn't you be sleeping now?" I asked gently, as if trying to convince both of us that this moment was normal.

"I was," she explained, her head tilting toward the door, "but I heard noises. I wanted to see Daddy."

I just stared at her, unsure what to feel. My hand moved of its own accord, brushing a soft lock of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary. She was his daughter. Whether I liked it or not, the fact is, she's my...half-sister. There was an innocence in her that I didn't want to taint with the complicated mess of my feelings.

"Max?" she called for me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I replied, my voice a little rougher than before.

"Do you wanna play with me tomorrow?" Her question was so pure, so simple.

I smiled softly, nodding. "Yeah, sure."

Her smile widened, "Awesome," She commented in delight, "Also, also, can you call Lilly and we'll all play together?" She suggested.

"Yeah, why not," I said.

She beamed, so happy, and everything I felt inside was so contradictive. This girl, much like her brother, was innocent, but also tied to everything I resented. But she was also part of me—blood I couldn't deny.

And that, more than anything, terrified me.

"Max," she softly whispered my name again.

"Yeah?"

"Are you sad?" Her big, questioning eyes searched mine, full of sincerity and concern. The simplicity of her question cut through me like a knife, making it harder to breathe for a moment.

I swallowed hard, forcing a smile. "No, no, I'm not."

She seemed satisfied with that, nodding seriously, "Okay. If you are, though," she said earnestly, "I can tell you a story, and you can sleep." The sweetness of her offer, the sheer innocence of it, caught me off guard. A low laugh slipped from my lips, unexpected, soft, and warmer than I'd felt in a long time.

She was pulling me into her world, a world far less complicated than my own.

Just as my chest loosened, I heard footsteps approaching. Maria's head snapped up, her attention shifting instantly. She sprang from my lap, her little feet padding across the floor as she said, "Daddy!" Her voice was pure excitement, her smile even brighter as she raced toward him.

Nikolas scooped her up effortlessly, mirroring her joy. The sight tugged at something inside me that I wasn't ready to confront. He kissed the top of her head, whispering something in her ear that made her giggle softly. After a moment, he gently set her down.

She turned to me, still smiling, waving a quick goodbye before darting off down the hall, calling out for her mother with the same unfiltered happiness.

Nikolas's gaze followed her for a second before landing on me, his expression shifting, tightening with something unreadable, "Can we talk?" he asked, his voice calm but loaded with a weight that made my stomach clench.

I nodded, though I wasn't sure why. Maybe I owed him this conversation, I guess. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, the soft click reverberating louder than it should have. His steps were measured, deliberate, as he walked closer, raking a hand over his face and through his hair.

He stopped just short of me, "I talked to Alex the other day," he began, and I could already tell where this was headed. "He told me...everything. How you're apparently planning to go after David on your own. Is that true?" His eyes locked on mine, waiting for the answer he already knew but still needed to hear from me, "Was that your plan all along?"

I clenched my fist against the mattress, staring back at him, the silence dragging on between us. Eventually, I gave him what he wanted—a nod.

My silent answer made the muscle in his jaw twitch, "So, everything you told me, all that you said, pretending to trust me, telling me about Valerie and all, sharing those little details with me," He said, "When I thought that we were bonding in a way, that was just an...act?"

I nodded my head.

He nodded back, fake amusement flickered in his eyes, "So, all along you were just trying to get into my head," He said and I nodded, finally speaking, "Yeah, trying to figure out how you do what you do," I said, I wasn't scared to hurt his feelings after all, "So, I can go ahead and do it myself."

Despite my resentment toward him, I couldn't deny that he was smart and strong, and I needed to learn that. I wanted to be the one to rip David into pieces, not him. Me. I wanted to catch him and make him taste every little ounce of pain he made Valerie go through.

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, beneath all that anger and control—a flash of vulnerability he was desperately trying to hide. He stared at me for a long second, the silence thick and suffocating, "You don't have the right to be mad at me," I finally pointed out, my voice hard.

He shook his head, his voice unnervingly calm, "I'm not mad, Max." He looked away for a moment, a quiet sigh escaping him before his eyes found mine again, "I'm just disappointed, I guess."

My jaw clenched as I shook my head, "You don't have the right to that either."

A low scoff left him, his gaze flickering to the window for a moment before landing back on me, darker now, "You know," he said, his voice holding an edge, "for someone who hates me so much, you sure as hell act a lot like me."

I got up to my feet, the words cutting through me, "You don't think I know that," I grated out, the frustration bubbling beneath the surface and ready to explode, "You don't think that I despise the fact that I look more like you than Nathan does," I shot out.

The anger surged, breaking past the fragile walls I'd tried to keep intact, "I've always felt this...thing inside me. Something that I never understood and I always brushed it off," I said, "This first instinct to lash out, to hurt. To destroy. I never understood why I had, not until I found out about you. And then it all made sense," My hands clenched into fists as I continued, each word pulling something raw and broken out of me, "It's you. It's your damn blood. That darkness in me—it's yours. And now it's mine. I carry it, even though I never wanted to."

"And I hate that," I grated out, "I hate that I look like you, that sometimes I think like you, that I act like you," I said, "I started to hate everything about me after I met you, I hate...I hate how you make me feel unworthy of my dad's love for me," I added, the anger and hurt beneath my words tumbling out, "I hate that you make feel like a burden," I wasn't nearly done, "I hate this...this house that you own," I looked around me before I looked him square in the eye, "I hate this family that you have, the one that you got a chance to build as if nothing ever happened."

My jaw clenched tight, ready to break, "I hate—" The words got stuck in my throat, refusing to come out.

He kept his composure, receiving every word with a calmness that ought to drive me mad. He searched my eyes for something, for an answer, for a way, "What do you want me to do, Max?" He asked, unable to figure that one on his own, "I told you, if you want me to get out of your life again, I would do that—"

I scoffed, "Yeah, because that would be so much easier for you, wouldn't it?"

The emotions pressed into my eyes, they burned, "You see, you pretend that you stayed away all these years because you were trying to protect me," I shook my head, "That's a lie," I said, "A lie you convinced everyone with, even yourself," I added, "You only stayed away for yourself, for your own good. You stayed away because you couldn't stay, couldn't look at me and be reminded of everything you did, every day," I said, "You wanted a chance to start a new life, away from your mistakes, that's why you stayed away."

"You wanted a peaceful life, and you weren't going to have that with me around," I added.

His face tightened, the lines on his forehead deepening. "Max—"

I shook my head, not willing to hear him or his excuses, "No, no, you should've stayed and taken responsibility for your actions—"

He shook his head, "It's not like that," he said as he took a step forward.

I took one backward, the pain inside me ached, deep and unrelenting, "It is," I said, "It is, and do you know how that makes me feel, that the man who is supposed to be my father, that even he couldn't stay, even he couldn't handle his mistake and walked away, so how else am I supposed to feel about the rest of the people in my life—"

"Max, that's not what happened," he tried to interject again.

"Then what happened, tell me," I shot back, "Are you gonna tell me that my mom was so happy and celebrating when she figured out she was pregnant with me, that my dad was just so delighted to learn that the woman he loved was pregnant with some other man's child," I shook my head, "You can't convince me that, and you know it," I added.

"You see, I love them, a lot, more than I can ever put into words," I mumbled, "And I know that they did everything for me," I shook my head, "But it sucks to know that they did it because they had to, not because they wanted to, that I was forced into them and not because they wanted me."

Nikolas looked at me, his expression bewildered, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Max, you can't think like that—"

"Which is why you should've stayed," I said again, my voice faltering, breaking under the weight of my own mess, "You should've stayed, and I hate that you didn't."

My eyes stung with unshed tears as I stepped closer to him, "I hate that you left. And maybe I shouldn't say this out loud, but I hate that you were able to be a father to them," I said, "but you couldn't be that for me."

•───────•°•❀•°••───────•

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