Chapter 10 You're Crazy, Max!

"Your father was Patrick Davis's only biological son. They were terrified he'd inherit everything. By systematically eliminating Hans Davis's family, they could seize Patrick's entire fortune," he explained.

"What business does my grandfather run?" I asked, realizing my father's family must have been wealthy.

"Tobacco plantations, at least. There might be others," Max answered. I frowned, processing his words.

"We're here," Max said as we stopped in front of the house.

"I'll head back to my place. Find me if you need anything," he said, helping me unload the groceries.

"You can have lunch here later. I'll cook for us," I offered before he left. He gave a slight nod and walked away.

I was relieved and happy to live here, far from Claire and the threat of the brothel. But the loneliness gnawed at me-no one to talk to, not even Max, who only replied in clipped sentences. I sighed. At least I had this much to be grateful for.

I didn't know where Max's house was, though he'd mentioned it was behind mine. When lunch was ready and he still hadn't come, I decided to bring it to him. Maybe he was too busy.

A smaller, well-kept house stood behind mine. That had to be Max's. I wondered how long he'd lived here and where his family was. He'd once said he was ten when Mother was banished-meaning his family had served the Davises for decades.

"Max?" I called, but the house was quiet.

"Can I come in?" I knocked again. No answer. His car was here, so he couldn't have gone far.

"Max..." I pushed the door open slowly-unlocked. Hesitant, I stepped inside.

The house was immaculate. I walked further, calling his name. Finding the dining table, I set down the food and turned to leave.

As I stepped out, I collided with something hard and stumbled back.

"Why are you here?" Max's voice growled as he hauled me upright.

"Why are you always so careless?" he scolded, seating me on his couch.

"I brought you lunch since you didn't come," I said, wincing. My whole body ached from crashing into him.

"I was trimming tree branches before the heavy rains," he said. Only then did I notice his bare torso. I'd seen him shirtless before, but never this clearly. My face burned as I looked away.

"Be more careful next time."

"Where does it hurt?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Just startled. You surprised me," I lied, hiding my throbbing ankle.

"I'll head back. Your lunch is on the table," I said, trying to stand-but my ankle buckled.

"You're lying," Max muttered. I ducked my head, bracing for his anger.

"Let me see." I tucked my foot away, but he lifted it onto the couch, examining the swelling.

"Where?"

"My ankle," I admitted, wincing. His hands began massaging the joint. At first, pain shot through me, but gradually, the tension eased-so much I nearly dozed off.

Then warmth pressed against my skin.

My eyes flew open.

Max was kissing my ankle.

Not just kissing-his lips trailed up my calf, slow and deliberate.

"Max!" I jerked back, but his grip tightened. My shorts left me exposed, and his mouth kept moving higher.

"You-you're scaring me," I stammered. His response was another kiss, this time on my inner thigh. A shudder ripped through me.

His tongue flicked against the crease where thigh met hip. I gasped, fingers tangling in his hair to push him away-but he didn't stop.

"Stop, Max!" I pleaded, trapped under his weight.

Instead, his fingers hooked into my shorts, yanking them down. His darkened gaze locked onto me, unblinking.

Then he buried his face between my thighs.

"You're insane!" I choked out, tugging his hair. His tongue dragged over the fabric of my underwear, hot and wet. I arched off the couch, a moan tearing from my throat.

He nipped at the edge of the fabric, nose brushing against me. My vision blurred, breath ragged. When his teeth grazed my skin, I shattered.

Something warm spilled free, and my grip on his hair turned desperate. Relief-electric and overwhelming-flooded me.

***

"I'm going to the Davis estate-there's some work I need to do. Stay here; I won't be long. Don't open the door for anyone except me," Max told me.

After what happened between us, I couldn't look at him the same way as when we first met. My heart raced every time our eyes met.

"Are there a lot of robbers around here?" I asked nervously.

"That's not what I'm worried about. Something far more dangerous than robbers. Very few people know about this house-only some members of the Davis family. What I fear is if one of them comes here and finds you. So stay inside until I return," he warned. His serious expression made me nod in agreement.

There was a weight behind his words, like he wasn't just issuing a warning-but a plea. As if leaving me behind, even for a few hours, was a gamble he hated taking. I could see it in the flicker of hesitation in his eyes, the tightness in his jaw as he stepped away.

Max had told me a lot about the Davis family-my late father's relatives. Though he'd mentioned the names of most of them (mostly my father's half-siblings), I still couldn't remember them well. The only name that stuck was Patrick Davis, my grandfather-the only blood relative I had left in the Davis estate. Unfortunately, according to Max, he'd been paralyzed for years.

"Then I'll go back inside," I said after Max finished speaking. When he arrived earlier, I'd been tidying up the flowers planted neatly in front of the house. His warning suddenly made me anxious-what if someone was already watching me? I'd been careless, too relieved about escaping Claire's brothel.

The wind rustled through the trees as I stepped over the threshold, my hand lingering on the door handle before locking it behind me. The air inside felt still-too still-like the silence itself was listening. I glanced once more out the window, half-expecting a shadow to be standing there. But there was nothing. Just emptiness.

Once I was inside and had locked the door, Max's car drove off, signaling his departure. Strangely, with him gone, loneliness crept in. This house was isolated, far from any crowds. When Max left, I was completely alone-and that realization terrified me. (*)