Bounded Passion

"Boss! Don Henrik just called!" Dean said urgently as he rushed into the room. He is Maverick's most trusted man-always by his side. "He said you need to go home right away. He has something important to tell you."

With his back turned to Dean, Maverick held a cigarette loosely between his fingers, the tip glowing faintly. Smoke slowly curled around him as he took one final drag, then crushed the cigarette in the ashtray. After a moment, he turned around, his sharp eyes fixed on Dean.

"What kind of announcement?" Maverick asked in a firm, cold voice.

Dean lowered his head slightly, showing respect. "He didn't say, Boss. He just told me to tell you to return to the mansion immediately. He said it's urgent."

Maverick's jaw tightened. His right hand curled into a fist at his side. He had a strange feeling in his chest. Deep down, he already had a guess about what this was all about.

"Alright," he said, voice hard. "Get the car ready. I'm leaving now."

"Yes, Boss!" Dean nodded quickly and hurried out of the room.

Maverick walked over to the coat rack and grabbed his black leather jacket. He slipped it on smoothly, then carefully tucked two handguns into his waistband. The weapons were hidden well under his jacket-no one would be able to see them.

El Cuervo Blanco wasn't just any gang. It was powerful, feared, and involved in all sorts of crimes-assassinations, bribing government officials, illegal gambling, controlling labor groups, loan sharking, fraud, and even tricking the stock market.

Maverick's father, Don Henrik, had built the organization from the ground up and later passed the leadership to his only son. At first, Maverick didn't want the job. He didn't like the idea of living in the shadows, surrounded by danger and blood. But in the end, he had no choice. He is the only child of Henrik and Carmilla Cuervo.

Another reason he accepted the role was because of a broken heart. The woman he had loved for so long never loved him back. Hurt and full of anger, he threw himself into the brutal training his father forced upon him. He hardened himself, both in body and mind.

He always followed his father's orders. He never said no. The only thing that continued to haunt him was the mystery of his parents' divorce. He had never been told the reason, and it tore him silently, even now.

As they drove through the city toward the mansion, Maverick sat quietly in the back seat. His mind raced.

"Do you really have no idea what this announcement is really about?" he asked Dean, his voice low, full of tension.

Dean shook his head. "Not at all, Boss. Lately, your father's been acting strange. He doesn't even take Sigfrid along anymore-and you know how close they are."

Maverick's eyes narrowed. Sigfrid was Don Henrik's most loyal bodyguard. Something serious was going on.

Maverick sighed deeply and leaned back in his seat, his mind full of dark thoughts he wished he could ignore.

When they reached the mansion, something felt off. Everything was quiet-too quiet. Unlike the last time there was big news, there were no crowds, no noise, no signs of a celebration or party.

Back when his parents announced their separation, the house had been filled with people, music, and expensive wine. That had been a show for the public. But now? The silence suggested that whatever was coming was meant only for family.

Dean quickly got out of the car and opened the door for his boss. Maverick stepped out and adjusted his jacket. His face was serious as he walked toward the tall, elegant double doors of the mansion.

He stepped inside.

"Sorry I'm late, Dad," he said respectfully, even though part of him still carried resentment over the divorce.

Henrik stood calmly in the grand hallway. "No worries," he said in a steady voice. "You're just in time. They're about to arrive."

Maverick's eyes narrowed in confusion. "They?"

He had assumed that the meeting would be something to do with business. But now he was unsure.

"You'll see, son," Henrik said softly. Then he turned and walked toward the front doors.

Just then, the sound of car horns echoed from outside. The vehicles were getting closer. Maverick stood still, staring at the door, bracing himself for what-or who-was coming.

At forty-eight years old, Don Henrik still looked impressive. Most men his age showed signs of slowing down, but not him. He stood tall and strong, with broad shoulders and a firm body that showed he still trained hard. He even had visible abs-a sign that he never gave up on staying in shape. His sharp jawline, salt-and-pepper hair, and intense eyes made him look both handsome and powerful. It was easy to forget he was nearly fifty.

A few minutes passed in quiet tension. Then, Dean walked quietly into the room and leaned down to whisper something in Maverick's ear.

"Boss Henrik has a visitor," he said softly.

Maverick straightened up in his chair, his posture more alert now. Dean moved to stand beside him, ready to support his boss. Both men turned their eyes toward the entrance, waiting to see who the visitor might be.

When Don Henrik walked into the room, he wasn't alone. He held the hand of a woman.

Maverick started to stand up in respect, but his father raised a hand to stop him.

"Sit down, son. And don't speak until I give you permission." Henrik's voice was calm, but firm. There was no room for argument. Maverick sat back down, though his jaw tightened and his fists clenched in frustration. He didn't like being ordered around like a child.

Across from him, the woman sat beside his father. She was clearly older, but she carried herself with grace. Her smooth skin, expensive clothes, and the calm smile on her face showed that she came from a life of elegance and class. She is beautiful-there was no denying that. Maverick could see why his father might have fallen for her. But that only made it harder to accept.

Henrik looked at his son and spoke in a steady voice. "This is Alodia Ferguson. She is going to be your stepmother. I expect you to show her the respect she deserves. Also, be nice to her daughter, Roseline."

Alodia gave Maverick a gentle smile. She started to rise from her chair and said, "How are you, son?"

But Maverick didn't respond. He stood up suddenly and walked away, not saying a word.

"Maverick! Don't be rude!" Henrik's voice exploded through the room like thunder.

The heavy silence that followed was thick with tension. Even the staff in the mansion lowered their heads and kept their distance, afraid of what might happen next.

Maverick stopped and turned halfway, just enough to look back at his father.

"You can command me to follow orders, Dad," he said with anger in his voice. "But don't expect me to be friendly to the woman who took Mom's place."

Henrik tried to speak again, but Alodia gently reached out and touched his arm. Her gesture was soft and calming.

"Let him go, Henrik," she said. "I understand. It's not easy for him. Don't force him to accept me. Give him time. I'll earn his trust. I promise... I'll do my best to make sure your son will learn to treat me with kindness."

Maverick was halfway up the stairs now, gripping the railing tightly. His knuckles were white from how hard he held it. His chest ached as he thought about his mother-how she must be feeling right now, hearing news like this, alone and forgotten.

Just then, Dean appeared beside him again. He leaned in close and spoke quietly.

"Boss... there's another guest. She just arrived."

Before Maverick could react, he heard his father's voice call out from the hallway below.

"Finally, sweetheart. You're here."

Maverick turned his head, curious. He watched as Henrik and Alodia looked toward the entrance.

"I'm sorry I'm late. The traffic was bad," said a soft, feminine voice.

A moment later, a young woman walked through the doors.

As soon as Maverick laid eyes on her, he stopped moving. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn't expected anything special. He thought this Roseline would be just another stranger. But the moment he saw her, he was stunned. His eyes widened slightly, and his entire body went still.

Roseline is beautiful-more beautiful than he imagined. She had a calm presence, and her face carried a quiet confidence. Her eyes met his for only a second, but it was enough. That single glance left him frozen, unable to look away.

For the first time that night, Maverick felt something he hadn't expected-curiosity, and something deeper he didn't want to name.

"Dad, I'm going back. I still have a lot of things waiting for me," Maverick said as he sat stiffly at the long dining table, though deep down, he wasn't really sure what those things were. It was just an excuse to leave. Sitting across from Alodia and Roseline made him feel out of place.

Henrik, sitting at the head of the table, didn't even look up from his plate. His voice was firm and final.

"Stay for a week."

Maverick frowned. "But Dad-"

"Maverick!" Henrik's voice suddenly rose, sharp like a blade. He slammed his fork and knife down on the table with a loud clang. Everyone flinched. Even Roseline, who had been quietly eating, jumped a little in surprise.

"Alright. You don't have to yell," Maverick muttered, leaning back slightly in his chair. He knew from experience that arguing with his father was useless. His father never backed down once he made a decision.

As the tension faded a little, Maverick let out a soft sigh and glanced toward Roseline. To his surprise, she was already looking at him. But the moment their eyes met, she quickly looked down at her plate. He noticed how awkward and uncomfortable she seemed, which made the corner of his mouth twitch in amusement.

He allowed himself to observe her more closely this time. She was, without question, beautiful. She had a soft, heart-shaped face, with slightly slanted eyes framed by thick, dark lashes. Her eyebrows were neat and perfectly shaped. Her small nose was straight and delicate, fitting her dainty features. Her lips were thin but naturally pink, as if no makeup had touched them. But for some reason, Maverick didn't focus on her appearance-what caught his attention more was her quiet presence and the tension she carried, like she didn't belong here.

"Eat some more, sweetheart," Alodia said warmly, placing another spoonful of rice on her daughter's plate.

Roseline looked embarrassed. "I'm fine now, Mom. I'm already full," she replied softly, her eyes not lifting from her food.

Henrik, in a gentler tone than he had used earlier, asked, "Are you sure?"

Roseline opened her mouth, stammering slightly. "Y-Yes, Si-"

"Just call me 'Dad' too," Henrik said smoothly. "We're family now."

Roseline gave a small, hesitant smile. "O-Okay... D-Dad," she said, her voice quiet, as if still unsure. She cast a shy glance at Maverick again, who hadn't taken his eyes off her.

Henrik smiled and placed a hand over Alodia's. "Don't be shy, Roseline. From now on, we're one family here. Right, Maverick?"

"Yes, Dad..." Maverick answered, flatly and without emotion. He picked up his glass, drank a bit of water, then wiped his mouth carefully with a napkin. "I'm full. I'll go ahead."

Without waiting for a response, he stood up and walked away from the table.

Roseline turned her head slightly, watching him leave. She didn't mean to, but she couldn't help it. There was something about Maverick that made her curious. But when the man suddenly glanced back and caught her looking, her heart jumped. Her eyes widened in embarrassment, and she quickly looked down at her plate again, her cheeks turning red.

She didn't dare look up again.

With Maverick at twenty-eight and Roseline at twenty-two, their six-year age gap was noticeable in subtle ways.

Roseline used to live in comfort with her biological father. They owned a few small businesses, lived in a decent house, and never lacked food or clothes. But everything changed when her father had a terrible accident. They spent all their money on hospital bills. Every property they owned was sold just to pay off the expenses. Although her father eventually recovered, his health never fully returned-and not long after, he passed away.

That was when Alodia-her mother-met Don Henrik.

Alodia had borrowed a large amount of money from him during her husband's illness. When she couldn't pay it back, Henrik offered a different solution. Marriage. It was a decision that surprised Roseline, one she hadn't agreed with-but she had no power to stop it. Before she knew it, her mother had agreed, and they were preparing to move into the massive Cuervo mansion.

She had just come home from work one day when her mother told her, "Pack your things-we're moving in with Don Henrik."

Now, here she is, dressed in fancy clothes, sitting at a grand dining table with strangers.

Later that evening, Roseline helped gather the plates and glasses after dinner. She reached for a glass near her plate, but the head housekeeper-an older woman with a tight bun and sharp eyes-gently stopped her.

"Please, dear... if you don't want us to get in trouble with Don Henrik, leave the cleaning to us."

Roseline smiled a little, embarrassed. "Just call me Roseline," she said softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to step on anyone's toes."

The woman nodded kindly but firmly. "We appreciate that, Roseline. But you're one of our employers now. Let us handle the rest."

Roseline nodded again and stepped back. She wasn't used to this kind of life-just sitting around while others do everything for her. At home, she always cleans, cooks, and helps with chores. Here, it felt strange doing nothing.

Feeling restless and out of place, Roseline quietly slipped outside into the garden to get some fresh air. The evening breeze touched her face as she looked around the large, beautiful grounds of the Cuervo estate. The sky was turning a deep blue, and the lights from the mansion glowed warmly behind her.

Everything looked perfect-but she didn't feel like she belonged here.

The gardens around the Cuervo mansion were vast and beautiful. Roseline slowly walked through the grounds, taking everything in. There were all kinds of plants-tall trees, neatly trimmed bushes, and colorful flowers arranged with care. Farther off, she saw crops growing in rows, and nearby was a massive swimming pool that looked like something used for professional competitions. Its clear blue water sparkled under the soft afternoon light.

She noticed that the mansion wasn't in the middle of a noisy city. Instead, it stood peacefully in the countryside, surrounded by green land and forests. It was quiet here-calm and far away from the world she used to know.

As she kept walking, Roseline reached the backyard. It was even more peaceful here. There was a lovely corner made for relaxing, with a bench swing hanging from a thick branch, and flowers planted in a perfect circle nearby. Someone had clearly put effort into keeping this place beautiful. The petals looked fresh and untouched, and the whole area had a warm, gentle feeling.

Roseline slowly reached out her hand to touch a bright red rose. Its petals were soft and flawless, standing tall on its green stem.

But just before her fingers made contact, a sharp voice cut through the air behind her.

"Don't you ever touch that!"

She froze.

"That flower belongs to my mom-and everything you see here does too."

Roseline's heart jumped in shock. She quickly pulled her hand back, as if the rose had burned her. She turned and saw Maverick standing just a few steps away, his eyes narrowed and voice cold. She hadn't even heard him approach.

"I-I'm sorry, big brother..." she said quickly, lowering her head in guilt.

Maverick raised one eyebrow. The nickname surprised him. No one had ever called him "big brother" before-not in his entire life. He didn't have siblings, and he had never let anyone get close enough to use that kind of name.

He let out a short, dry laugh. "Did I tell you it was okay to call me big brother? Are we suddenly brother and sister now?" His voice was cold, each word sharp and heavy.

Roseline's face turned pale. She could feel the weight of his gaze, and she backed away slightly without realizing it. "S-Sorry... I won't do it again," she whispered, looking down.

Maverick took a step closer. She took another step back.

He noticed her retreat and paused, watching her closely. Something about her fear made him stop moving.

"I'll go now," Roseline said in a soft voice. She turned to walk past him, wanting to escape the tension. But just as she stepped forward, Maverick suddenly grabbed her by the arm.

"I'm not done talking to you," he said firmly.

His voice wasn't yelling, but it was full of pressure-like a warning. His grip was tight, but not enough to hurt. Still, it was enough to make Roseline freeze.

"And when I'm speaking to you," he continued, "don't turn your back on me. You understand?"

Roseline was shaking now. His presence felt so overpowering, and his eyes were hard to meet. "Y-Yes! I'm sorry!" she cried, her voice rising in panic.

She quickly pulled her arm from his grasp and hurried back toward the mansion, walking fast-almost running.

Maverick stood still, watching her retreat. He didn't blink. His eyes followed every step she took until she disappeared inside the house.

Even then, he didn't look away from the spot where she had been standing.

"Why can't I stop watching her?" he asked himself.

He wanted to hate her. She was supposed to be part of the reason his life had changed. They had stepped into a family that wasn't theirs.

But instead of anger, all Maverick could feel was confusion. Her voice, her movements, her eyes-everything about her stayed in his mind, even when he didn't want it to.

Maverick let out a frustrated breath and ran a hand through his hair. Shaking his head, he slowly followed her path back inside, still bothered by the strange feeling Roseline left behind.

There was a soft knock on the door before it slowly opened.

"Can I come in?" Maverick asked, standing in the doorway as Roseline looked up in surprise. She didn't answer right away-she just stared at him, unsure of what to do. Her hands were still holding the book she had been reading, and her eyes were wide with hesitation.

But Maverick didn't wait for her to respond. He pushed the door open farther and stepped inside, walking past her like he owned the space.

"Well, I almost forgot," he said with a calm, sarcastic voice. "This is my house. So I can come into any room I want... right, Roseline?"

Roseline took a quick step back, moving out of his way. She didn't close the door behind him. She just stood there, frozen, watching as Maverick looked around the room.

His eyes moved over the soft cream walls, the polished wooden furniture, the floral curtains blowing gently with the breeze. The room is warm and quiet-too peaceful for his mood.

"I didn't know Dad had this room renovated for you," Maverick said, his voice low. He turned to face her,l. "Do you like how it turned out?"

"Y-Yes," Roseline replied softly, barely able to look him in the eye.

Maverick smirked at her answer, pleased that she didn't call him "big brother" this time. He remembered how much it annoyed him before. At least she had learned that much.

He walked over to her bed and sat down slowly at the edge, resting his elbows on his knees.

"How old are you, Roseline?" he asked without looking at her.

"T-Twenty-two," she replied, still standing by the door, her body tense and her fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of her blouse.

"Oh... you're still young," Maverick said with a nod. His voice was calm, but there was something cold beneath it. Roseline didn't answer. She just stayed silent, her eyes on the floor, wishing he would leave.

Maverick stood again, walking over to the doorway and leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest. He stared at her with a thoughtful but sharp expression.

"Where's your father?" he asked suddenly.

Roseline looked up, caught off guard by the question. Her lips trembled slightly. "He... he passed away. A year ago."

"A year ago?" Maverick repeated, his tone sharp now. "Seriously? Your dad's barely gone, and your mom found some replacement?"

Roseline dropped her gaze in shame. She didn't know what to say. It is true. Her father had only been gone a year. Maybe less. And now they were living in another man's house. It was all happening too fast-even for her.

She wanted to defend her mother, to explain how hard things had been. But no words came.

"If I were you, I'd leave this house," Maverick said coldly. His voice wasn't angry-but it cut deep, like ice. It didn't even sound like a suggestion. It sounded like a warning.

Roseline's lips parted, unsure what to say. "Big br-"

"Fuck!" Maverick snapped, his voice suddenly raised. "Didn't I tell you not to call me that? We're not siblings!" Maverick's voice was blaring that it echoed in the hallway, and Roseline flinched as if she'd been hit.

"I-I'm sorry!" she cried, her voice shaking. Without another word, she rushed out of the room, her eyes burning as she tried to hold back tears.

Roseline didn't understand why Maverick hated her so much. She hadn't done anything to him. If it were up to her, she would've left this place the moment they arrived. But she had nowhere else to go. Their old house had been sold to pay off debts. This mansion-this unfamiliar, cold mansion-was now their home, whether she liked it or not.

She hurried down the hallway, wiping her eyes. Her heart was beating too fast, and her hands were freezing.

"Roseline? Sweetheart?" Alodia called from the bottom of the stairs. She rushed up the steps and met her daughter halfway. She grabbed her hands. "Are you alright? You look pale."

"I-I'm fine, Mom," Roseline whispered, trying to sound normal.

But Alodia gently held her hands. "Then why are your hands so cold?"

Roseline didn't know how to answer. She didn't want to worry her mother, but her fear and pain were written all over her face.

"Can we just... leave this place, Mom?" she asked suddenly, her voice full of emotion.

Alodia blinked, confused. "Why, sweetheart? We're doing okay here. Henrik is good to us. He promised to take care of us. We finally have peace again."

"I-I'm scared of Maverick, Mom," Roseline admitted in a small voice. "He's always furious... always shouting."

Alodia's face softened with sympathy. She pulled her daughter into a hug and stroked her hair gently.

"Just ignore him, sweetheart," she whispered. "He'll come around. He's not used to having us here yet. But in time, he will."

Roseline didn't answer. She closed her eyes and let her mother hold her, but deep inside, she wasn't so sure.

Maverick isn't just furious. He is broken-and something about his anger felt far too personal.

Alodia gently brushed her fingers over Roseline's hair as she held her close. She heard her daughter's words clearly-Roseline wanted to leave this place. And part of Alodia wanted to grant that wish. She wanted to take her daughter far away, to a quieter life, far from anger and cold stares.

But deep in her heart, Alodia knew they couldn't leave-not now.

She had made a decision the moment she accepted Henrik's hand. This mansion is their home now. It may not feel like home yet, especially for Roseline, but at least here, she feels her daughter is safe. Here, they had food, comfort, and security. No more unpaid bills, no more hospitals, no more begging for help. Alodia had to stay-for Roseline's future, even if it meant enduring the pain of being unwanted.

Later that evening, Roseline returned to her room. The moment she opened the door and saw it was empty, a small wave of relief washed over her. Maverick is no longer there. The air felt easier to breathe.

She closed the door quietly behind her and leaned against it for a second. Then she walked slowly to her bed and sat down, folding her legs underneath her. Finally, she lay down, hoping for rest. But no matter how much she turned and twisted under the covers, sleep wouldn't come. Her body was tired, but her mind kept spinning.

Each time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Maverick's angry face-the way he had shouted, the look in his eyes that made her heart freeze.

Lying in the dark, she whispered to herself, "What can I do to stop him from being mad at me?"

For a few moments, there was only silence.

Then, an idea slowly came to her. Maybe... maybe I can bring him something. A peace offering? She remembered seeing him earlier, swimming alone in the pool. Maybe he was still there.

Without thinking too much, Roseline got out of bed, tied her robe tighter around her waist, and tiptoed out of the room.

As she quietly came down the stairs, she spotted one of the maids walking across the hallway. The maid was carrying a tray of snacks and drinks.

"I-I'll take that, Miss," Roseline said gently, stepping forward to offer her hands.

The maid looked surprised. "Are you sure, Miss Roseline?"

"Yes, Miss," she replied with a polite smile.

The maid studied her face for a moment, then nodded and handed the tray over.

"All the food he asked for is on the tray," the maid said kindly. "Oh, and just call me Charity. No need for 'Miss.' We're almost the same age."

Roseline nodded. "Alright, Charity. Thank you."

Now holding the tray, Roseline took a deep breath. Her hands trembled slightly, but she steadied herself.

"You can do this, Roseline. You're just bringing food. That's all. He's not going to yell... hopefully," she told herself quietly.

Step by step, she made her way toward the pool area. The lights outside were soft and golden, casting a warm glow over the water. The mansion's pool was massive-almost like something she'd see at a sports center. And there, in the water, was Maverick. He was swimming laps, his strokes smooth and powerful.

He hadn't noticed her yet.

Roseline carefully placed the tray on the small glass table near one of the lounge chairs. She made sure nothing spilled and stood silently, unsure of what to do next.

Then Maverick's head broke the surface of the water. He ran a hand through his wet hair and looked around. When he spotted Roseline, his expression immediately changed.

"Why did you bring the food?" he asked coldly, walking out of the pool. Water dripped from his body as he grabbed a towel and slung it over his shoulders. He wore only boxer shorts, and Roseline quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"I... I asked the maid if I could bring it myself," she answered quietly, staring at the ground.

Maverick raised an eyebrow and smirked, sitting down on one of the poolside chairs.

"Why?" he asked, as he picked up a glass of juice and took a sip.

"I just..." Roseline paused, twisting her fingers nervously. "I don't want you to be mad at me anymore. I get scared when you yell. I promise I won't cause trouble. I'll be careful not to be a burden. I just... I just want things to be peaceful. Please don't shout at me again."

Her voice was shaky, but she forced herself to speak honestly. Maverick leaned back in the chair, letting her words sink in. He didn't say anything for a moment. Then he placed the glass down and looked straight at her.

"You think it's that easy?" he asked bitterly. "You and your mom just walk into this house, like it's yours. And now I'm expected to smile, to accept it-while my own mother is still out there suffering?"

Roseline's chest tightened. She lowered her head, her heart sinking.

She now understood, fully and clearly-Maverick's anger wasn't just about her. It was about everything he had lost. Everything that had changed. She wasn't his enemy... but to him, she is a reminder of pain.