#i will take down eugene

[autumnalfallingleaves]

Particularly excited about the rise of Changeling Hilda content as of recent :D

Anyway I'm incorporating Louise into my (and hold it down) 'verse because I love her. She's not phased by much, is she?

reblogs are highly appreciated, and please do not repost my art

BONUS: Local Changeling Fed Up With Fish, More At Eleven

[applesandbannas747]

Here’s the thing. We can assume that Williams knew about the one-reserve rule from the start, and yet she took on two reserves, knowing one would be cut. It's clear from her interactions with Nick and the way she talks about him that she's betting on him, but she kept Eugene as a safety net just in case Nick couldn't improve fast enough. She's using her students as pawns to win against her old rival rather than seeing them as people she's supporting in achieving great things.

The way she approached cutting Eugene was so insensitive and shitty that it feels fucking malicious. She chose to publically cut him from the team, and to make it worse, she started it off by saying she needed the best on the team, then immediately gave the slot to Nick. That is simply an unnecessary prelude--there is no reason she needed to 'justify' her choice by outright telling Eugene he's not good enough.

Yes, Nick fenced better at camp, and yes, Williams is justified in her decision. What she's not justified in is stringing Eugene along when she knew from the start he was deadweight only to publically kick him off the team right before they actually start the season. Her treatment of him was callous and--hopefully unintentionally--cruel.

[arctic-hands]

I've had more than one anarchist I associate with be surprised to learn I'm actually not an anarchist. But like. I'm a huge proponent of the Welfare State, and you kind of need a state for that

[nikikikiko]

part of me is so so tempted to make like.

an afk arena fanfic thats short and sweet and like some stories about eugavus & their kids, mainly during the time where they are still looking for a new living space after the prison break

mainly bc i have two little ideas i wanna do ,,,,

[baekuras]

Started AFK Arena, got Eugene as my first Legendary, liked his design but was worried I might not like his story bc I haven't yet read many of them and it didn't seem like a story/event heavy game, finally gave in 3 days later Anyhow order of operations: -love it, joke around why there isn't a series about it -no there actually is a comic and other ones too -read them all -actually go back to read Gavus and the kids stories as well -learn you basically JUST missed all them being introduced like 4 months ago -hide your pain by consuming everything NOW -it's 7 am i haven't slept since yesterday where am i

[irregularbillcipher]

honestly the main reason that my bill flatland fic is so focused on the satire aspects of the original novella is because that's the most fascinating part of the book to me. the dimensional stuff that doesn't tie into the social aspects are conceptually interesting but honestly mostly whatever to me, i don't really care about it from a mathematics standpoint and i'm not super interested in alien biology and stuff in stories. i'm here for the horrible little victorians and how absolutely stifling their terrible world is

[featherymainffins]

Because I haven't really interacted with X-Men media in a fairly long time, sometimes I'm like "Why is Magneto a villain again? Because he's radical and brutal or am I forgetting something?" And then I read the words "mutant supremacy" somewhere and yeah turns out that's what I keep forgetting about.

Tho I'm gonna be real I probably keep forgetting that because in the situations they keep putting mutants in it seems like a total non-issue. Like idk imagine if there was someone who was like a REAL damn BEAST when it came to disability advocacy or queer rights and the only problem was that sometimes they'd go "Actually autistic/queer people are superior to everyone else and should be in control." Like idk about you but I'd be all "Hmmm that sounds like something that might not be great in the long-term but rn I'm not even allowed to drive." You know what I mean?

[dumbassalex]

These two need to share a dancefloor

[arlathen]

nothing will remind you how many people should not be parents like the comment section of a video of a four year old being upset over something.

[majorxmaggiexboy]

one of the things i find interesting in Wednesday is how....idk how to articulate it but it’s like, in that final sequence of showdown(s), Wednesday is clearly Not going to be able to defeat Hydler once he transforms, Enid shows up (in wolf form) just in time to save her/get Hydler out of her way so she can continue on to beat Crackstone. 

Then when Wednesday is outmatched by Crackstone and he’s....idk murdering her with the magic staff or whatever he’s doing to her, Bianca comes in and honestly takes no prisoners like she’s visibly terrified after delivering what should have been a lethal wound but she also stands her ground even as Crackstone turns his attention to her- which is exactly the distraction Wednesday needed to finish him off. 

and THEN when Wednesday is about to get shot and is not gonna be able to do a damn thing about it, here come Eugene right on time to incapacitate Laurel and, like the previous two, directly save Wednesday’s life.

i just think it’s neat 

[merkerlerspeaks]

I want to talk about Zodi again. Have I ever mentioned her real name is Celeste?

[applesandbannas747]

What I love about this scene is the way it actually taps into Eugene's potential--as a fencer and as a character. One of the biggest things we learn about Eugene very early on is that he fails, but more importantly, he gets back up and keeps at it. And that was such a cool aspect of him and how he fits on the team that hasn't been tapped until now.

The thing with a character like Eugene is that everyone forgets about him. Scott doesn't even mention Eugene in his breakdown of the Kings Row fencing team:

And Kyle forgets about his existence as he tells Nick that his whole team lost their last round:

But, obviously, Kyle was wrong--Eugene won his last match.

Eugene isn't an x-factor or an underdog. He's not an up-and-comer that's going to spring at you out of nowhere. He's steady, and while everyone else is going through their drama, he continues to trundle along. And it's so forgettable and unremarkable that people forget him. They overlook him. But, slowly, he'll continue to weather the losses and improve because of them. And when Kings Row needs him, he'll be there. And when that's the downfall of an opposing team, it won't be because they didn't see him coming. It will be because they ignored him.

Eugene's stamina--his hardiness--is what he brings to the team, and it's not glamorous or impressive, not in the way that gets the spotlight. But he'll be there, continuing on even when no one's watching, ready to step up when he's needed.

Because it's all about the stamina, my bros.

[waitlifted]

(( dunno why but now I'm thinking about how we never really see Cassandra reference "Flynn Rider", he's always Fitzherbert (or Eugene if she's feeling generous, a whole list of insulting nicknames if she's not). I mean it makes sense, he'd started going by it again by the time they actually meet each other, even if she knew him by reputation before and all.

honestly despite the venom she can put into saying his name sometimes, it's probably really good for Eugene's safety and well being that she does. after all, if she had that old moniker coming up as a constant reminder of how the man in front of her was her previously declared nemesis that committed all those violent acts against her dad and the other guards, it would be much harder for her to restrain from strangling him. instead she manages to (somewhat) disconnect him from his past actions and just be mad at his present actions instead :^) ))

[nikikikiko]

how this fic planning is going is

well

i got an idea for one of the arc’s for the kids

for any liberta fans i’m so sorry (i’m not really)

BUT I COME WITH HEADCANONS FT FORBIDDEN FAMILY + EXTRAS, Debate Nights Flavor~:

- During holidays, the family often heads towards either Saltwater Town to visit Kadrin or Oakenfell to visit Leofric and Lavatune

- This does not stop Debate Night from happening

- Leofric has taken to not involving himself much in the Infamous Debate Nights

- Due to one incident where he joined and ended up, hilariously, getting angry at his opponent for that round: Gavus

- They were debating on if Black and White could or could not be considered colors, Gavus took the stance that they could while Leofric took the stance that they couldn’t.

- proceed: they somehow veered into the different symbolisms of Black and White and which symbolism is ultimately the correct one, leading back into if they were colors or not, and then heading into Leofric put the chair down

- Debate night can get pretty heated

- At some point the siblings were pitted against each other during an extended family debate night

- And from there it was a secondary debate on who would win

- Featuring team Liberta consisting of Gavus and Leofric, holding a momentary truce because they think he’ll argue his point best

- and Team Lucilla consisting of Eugene and Lavatune, who are simply just counting Lucilla not threatening violence to be a win

- Nobody actually wins btw they just go at it until they’re pretty sure they lost the plot

- Another infamous incident actually is between Kadrin and Eugene, a debate that went on for nearly 18 weeks excluding breaks in between and how long it takes for letters to get from the Eugavus Family Home to Saltwater Town.

- Nobody lets either of them down about this. It is always brought up as the longest record standing debate.

- Eugene is proud of it, Kadrin isn’t sure how it happened

- Lavatune’s involvement comes at he prefers to jump in when it’s funny

- He’ll support the side that’s making him laugh the most

- There are some topics he gets passionate about, though, and when he’s up to bat, then the only people that can contend are Leofric, Gavus and Maybe Eugene depending on how much Eugene remembers of the topic

- Liberta and Lucilla get a Free Show during these nights

That’s all for now, I just wanted to build on my silly debate nights hc

[faithshouseofchaos]

Leaving it all behind— Max Verstappen x Reader

Word count — 30.k

Warnings — smut p in v, mentions of blood and death no one important. Angsty at times but other than that we have soft max.

also I don’t know why there’s funky symbols throughout my fic it wasn’t in the google doc. Also every thing in ** is supposed to be italics but I don’t have the patience to do that.

Beta read/edited by @octavikravecell218 @crispysoup318 @sinofwriting

Summary— Max's life had always been planned out for him—a life he wanted nothing to do with. One night, while driving through the city, he meets a woman who wants to make him feel alive and love, something he has never experienced before.

Tagging - @astraeaworld @ashy-kit @alwayzbeenale @67-angelofthelordme-67 @amatswimming @a-casual-romantic @bblouifford @badassturtle13 @bbtoni @barcelonaloverf1life e @charlesf1leclerc @charlesgirl16 @crashingwavesofeuphoria @dreamyreveriie @clowngirlsstuff @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @llando4norris @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @jeffs77 @ironcowboycopnickel @lipringlrh @lightdragonrayne @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @moss-on-tmblr @natailiatulls07 @omgsuperstarg g @oconswrld @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @scotlynaurora @toasttt11 @uluvjay @vellicora @venusisnothere @anedpev @thenerdysimp

Leaving it all behind ” max verstappen x reader 

The city lay dark and restless under the weight of the midnight clouds. Max’s car glided down the empty streets, headlights slicing through fog that clung to the sidewalks. This part of town was his a

city carved out by generations of his family, each building tainted by their legacy. A legacy Max had always known would eventually fall on his shoulders.

He sighed, letting his hand fall from the steering wheel to drum absently on the gearshift. Nights like these always felt endless, each familiar street drawing him deeper into a life he was starting to question. He’d been told countless times it was his birthright, his duty to keep things running, but in moments like this just him and the hum of the engine he couldn’t help but wonder if this life was all he’d ever have.

That was when he saw her.

At first, it was just movement in the shadows, a sudden scuffle that drew his eye. A young woman struggled against two men, their laughter drifting cruelly into the night air. Before he could think, he’d pulled over, instincts taking over as he slid out of the car. His footsteps were silent, his expression deadly calm as he approached.

“Let her go,” he ordered, his voice cold enough to cut through the fog.

The two men turned, eyes widening as they recognized him, and the fear in their faces was unmistakable. Max had built a reputation; even in the dark underbelly of the city, his name held weight. They stumbled back, mumbling apologies before disappearing down the street, leaving him alone with the girl.

She looked up, breathing hard, her face partially hidden beneath strands of dark hair. Even under the streetlamp’s dim glow, he could see the defiance in her eyes she wasn’t the type to easily back down. A part of him admired that.

“You alright?” he asked, softer now, watching her carefully.

She nodded, brushing herself off, her gaze wary but grateful. “Yeah I didn’t need saving, though,” she said, a spark of pride in her voice.

A small smile tugged at his lips. “I could tell,” he replied, “but sometimes it’s nice to have backup.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, eyes flickering up to meet him. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence was charged and unexpected.

“Thank you,” she murmured finally, her voice losing some of its edge. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come along.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I rescued you from danger,” Max said with a playful grin, trying to lighten the mood. He leaned against the rough bark of a nearby tree, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Y/n regarded him with an arched eyebrow, her skepticism palpable. The remnants of adrenaline still coursed through her veins, but mixed with a tinge of fear, she felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Max’s charm was disarming, but she couldn’t shake the unease she felt in his presence.

“Yeah, thank you for that, but I need to go,” she replied, her voice steady despite the fluttering nerves. She turned away, glancing over her shoulder to gauge his reaction. The last thing she wanted was to be caught in another unexpected situation. The weight of the moment hung between them, and with each step she took, she felt the distance growing a mix of gratitude and caution urging her to leave before she got too drawn in.

Max only nodded, watching as she turned to go. He didn’t ask her name, but something in him twisted as he watched her walk away, that fierce determination etched on her face. She was like no one he’d met before. And he wanted to know more.

Over the next few days, she lingered in his mind like a melody he couldn’t shake. He knew he shouldn’t indulge this curiosity, shouldn’t look into her life, but he couldn’t resist. He had people at his disposal, and soon he had her name, her address, and details of her life that made his heart ache in ways he didn’t understand.

When he learned she worked at a little bookstore downtown, he couldn’t keep himself from stopping by one afternoon. He wandered in, pretending to browse the shelves, until he saw her head bent over a book, a faint smile on her lips.

She looked up, and surprise flickered in her eyes before recognition dawned. She stood, her hand brushing against a stray lock of hair as she offered him a tentative smile.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, her voice soft but curious.

Max shrugged, feeling suddenly out of place. He’d been to every luxurious spot in the city, but this small, cozy shop felt like another world. “Just passing by,” he said, though they both knew it was a lie.

They fell into an easy conversation, discussing books, the city, and life. And as the sun began to set, Max felt something foreign and unfamiliar start to build in his chest a longing that made him question everything he thought he wanted.

Weeks passed, and their paths continued to cross until friendship gave way to something deeper. With every conversation, every laugh, every quiet moment they shared, Max found himself wondering if he could leave everything behind. If she could be enough to pull him out of the shadows.

But he knew the cost of that decision. Leaving his family’s empire wasn’t simple; there were loyalties, enemies, and countless secrets that held him captive. Still, when he looked at her—when he thought of a life beyond the city’s corruption and bloodshed—he realized he wanted something different. Something he could only have if he let it all go.

As he stood outside her bookstore one evening, watching the light from within spill across the pavement, he made a silent promise: he would find a way to be with her. Even if it meant sacrificing everything he’d ever known.

Max leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on the warm glow coming from the bookstore’s windows. It was late, and the street was quiet. Inside, she was closing up a routine that had become as familiar to him as his reflection.

He shoved his hands in his jacket, watching as she tidied the display, her movements slow, practiced. Even after weeks of meeting almost every day, she had this effect on him. Every little thing about her held his attention and captured his heart as if it belonged to her.

The lights in the shop went out, and a few moments later, she stepped out. She started when she saw him, a hand on her heart as she let out a soft gasp. “Did you just stand there the entire time?”

Max shrugged, pushing off the wall as he took a step closer to her. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Just enjoying the view.”

She rolled her eyes but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “You need a better hobby.”

He chuckled, falling in step next to her as they began walking. “You’re my hobby,” he teased.

She shot him a look, the kind that was meant to be disapproving but couldn’t quite hide her amusement. “You’re ridiculous.”

Max just smirked, his gaze flicking down to her hand, to the slender fingers that were curled loosely at her side. He ached to reach out, to take her hand in his. But there was something in him—maybe it was the loyalty to the life he’d inherited, or maybe it was fear—that made him hesitate.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, the streetlights casting long shadows around them.

“Hey,” Max said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

She looked over at him, her eyebrows raised in question.

“Can I ask you something?”

She nodded, her expression curious.

Max took a deep breath, bracing himself. “Do you think it’s possible to change? To make your path, even when you come from a life that feels...predetermined?”

Her expression softened, her gaze searching his face. “I think it depends,” she said slowly. “On how badly you want it, how willing you are to fight and maybe even lose things along the way.”

Max nodded, her words echoing in his mind, both confirming and intensifying his doubts. Losing things...he’d be losing a lot by choosing a different life”his family’s legacy, their empire, his father’s trust. But even the thought of losing *her* felt unbearable.

“So what if you’re not sure?” he found himself asking. “What if you have feelings you don’t quite understand, but you know they want…more?”

She regarded him silently, her eyes steady, her expression unreadable. For a moment, Max wondered if he’d said too much, or revealed too much. But then she looked away, a sigh escaping her lips. “Then I’d say you’re either being brave…or foolish,” she said finally, her gaze returning to his. “Because love can make you do both.”

Max swallowed, the word *love* hanging heavily between them. Was that what this was, this intense feeling that seemed to consume him every time he was near her? But loving her was like lighting a match in a powder keg. Could he set everything on fire for her?

As the weeks passed, Max became a regular at the bookstore, his visits blending seamlessly into Y/N’s day. They’d fall into easy conversations, and she’d tease him about his “terrible taste” in books, which he took with a grin, never revealing that he’d never really read much for pleasure before he met her. The darkness of his past and his family’s world seemed to fade in those quiet hours, and for the first time in his life, Max felt something close to peace.

The bookstore was a sanctuary. Away from the constant scrutiny, the threats, and the weight of his family’s name. He could just be himself here, free to laugh and chat and listen to her it was her favorite place to be.

Max leaned against the counter, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she moved between the shelves. There was a peacefulness to her rhythm, and he couldn’t help but feel a little mesmerized. The way Y/N’s fingers brushed over each book’s spine, her expression relaxed, made it look like they belonged here among the pages and stories.

“So,” he said, his voice barely louder than a murmur, “do you ever get tired of organizing these shelves over and over?”

Y/N chuckled softly without turning around. “Not when I have someone to complain to about it.”

Max grinned, feeling a spark of warmth that was rare for him. “Lucky me, huh?”

They both paused, letting the silence and the music fill the space between them. It was a shared comfort, a feeling that went beyond words. Here, in the stillness of the bookstore, Max almost felt as though they were the only two people in the world. Y/N finished sliding a book into place and turned, leaning against the shelf, her eyes meeting Max’s. “You don’t have to stay, you know. Not much entertainment here.”

Max smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the counter. “Depends on what you consider entertainment. Watching you argue with those books as they move themselves? Riveting.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but Max caught the small, amused smile that slipped through. “Keep talking, and I’ll make you help. Alphabetize the romance section, maybe. Heard you’re a sucker for a good love story.”

He scoffed. “I think you’re confusing me with someone who has a heart.”

Y/N shook her head, the faint sound of JoJo filling the quiet again. She walked closer, books forgotten for a moment, until they were just a step away from him. “Yeah? Then what are you doing here?”

Max felt a tug in his chest he couldn’t quite ignore, his usual smirk softening. “Good question,” he murmured, more to himself than to them.

The air between them was thick with unsaid things. Neither of them spoke for a moment, letting the music and the shadows hold whatever words they weren’t ready to say. Finally, Max cleared his throat, shrugging in that casual, detached way he’d perfected. “Guess I’m just a sucker for bookstores. Quiet. No one is bothering you. Kind of place you can just be.”

Y/N’s expression softened, her eyes searching his face as if she saw through every layer he tried to keep up. “Then you’re in good company.”

Max’s gaze lingered on Y/N, watching the way her face softened in the dim light. He wasn’t used to this, the quiet moments that seemed to slip under his skin, settling somewhere he couldn’t shake off.

Y/N tilted her head, a teasing glint in her eyes. “So, what’s the verdict? Am I decent company for a night at the bookstore?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I guess you’ll do. I’d say you’re good enough to pass the time, but then your ego might get out of control.”

“Oh, please,” Y/N shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Your standards aren’t that high. I saw you trying not to laugh at my jokes last week.”

Max scoffed, pretending to be offended, but a small smile betrayed him. “I wasn’t laughing. I was horrified. Pure survival instinct.”

They both laughed quietly, the sound warm and intimate in the empty store. The music faded into another soft, slow song, and they let the silence settle over them again, neither one in a hurry to break it.

Y/N spoke first, a little softer now. “Have you ever thought about it? Starting over somewhere? Just… a different life?”

Max’s usual mask faltered for a second, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. He looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Starting over, huh?” He let out a humorless laugh. “I think that ship sailed a long time ago for me.”

Y/N stepped a little closer, their voice gentle but insistent. “Maybe. But you never know.” She paused, searching his face. “I just think you don’t have to be the person you’ve always been, Max.”

He swallowed, caught off guard by the honesty in their words. It was strange, unsettling even, having someone look at him like he was worth more than the pieces he kept hidden. For a moment, he wanted to believe them.

“Well,” he said, forcing a small smirk, “maybe I like the person I am.”

“Maybe.” Y/N shrugged, giving him a soft smile. “But I think there’s more to you than you let on.”

She held his gaze, and for once, Max found himself at a loss for words. Instead, he looked down, shaking his head slightly, but he couldn’t keep the hint of a smile from tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Max’s heartbeat was a little faster, his usual bravado slipping away under the weight of Y/N’s gaze. He could feel them watching him, and for once, he didn’t feel the need to hide.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “You keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you’re interested.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m waiting for you to figure that out.”

Max’s throat tightened, the words lingering between them like a challenge, daring him to take a step he wasn’t sure he was ready for. He wanted to say something, anything that could brush off the tension, but the usual defenses weren’t coming to his rescue. Instead, he just looked at them, his eyes searching for hers, caught between the urge to run and the impulse to stay.

“You think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?” he finally managed, his voice rougher than he intended.

Y/N shook her head, her smile softening. “Not all of you. Just enough to know there’s more to you than you let people see.” She reached out, her fingers brushing his arm for just a second before she pulled back, the touch brief but enough to send a spark up his spine.

Max inhaled, barely holding himself together. The gentle, honest look in Y/N’s eyes left him raw, and vulnerable, and he found himself wanting to let go, just a little. “So, if there’s more to me,” he said slowly, “why stick around? Don’t you have better things to do than try to figure out a guy like me?”

Y/N shrugged, her voice soft. “Maybe I don’t mind a mystery. Maybe I want to see what happens if you let your guard down.”

Max’s pulse pounded in his ears, his gaze locked on theirs. For the first time in a long time, he felt like the ground was shifting beneath him, the walls he’d built starting to crumble. He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. “You might not like what you find.”

Y/N just looked at him, their expression open, unafraid. “Try me.”

The words hung in the air, daring him, pulling him toward something he wasn’t sure he was ready to face. But standing there in the quiet of the bookstore, with nothing but the soft music and their steady gaze, he realized he wanted to try.

Max’s life had always been carefully compartmentalized”business was business, and the rare moments of personal life he allowed himself were kept far from the eyes of his family. But over time, his “disappearances” to see Y/N hadn’t gone unnoticed.

One afternoon, Jos sat in his leather chair at the head of their estate’s grand dining room. Marco stood nearby, observing him closely. He was loyal to Jos, fiercely so, and he’d known Max since he was a boy. But loyalty to the family meant loyalty to its survival”and Max was threatening that with his wandering.

Marco cleared his throat, his voice steady. “I’m starting to think Max’s time away isn’t just business, Jos. He’s distracted.”

Jos looked up slowly, his gaze piercing, as if calculating what Marco wasn’t saying. “Explain.”

Marco shifted, choosing his words carefully. “It’s a girl. A nobody who works in some bookstore downtown. He’s spending time with her. A lot of time.”

A silence fell over the room as Jos leaned back, fingers steepled. A faint smirk crossed his face, though his eyes remained cold. “A girl, you say?” He sounded almost amused, but there was a dangerous undercurrent in his tone. “Max has always been soft-hearted. I warned him about that. But this attachment could be problematic.”

Marco nodded, his voice darkening. “He’s slipping, Jos. Losing focus. And if he thinks he can just walk away for her” He didn’t finish the thought, but they both knew what happened to those who tried to leave.

Jos’ gaze darkened, his fingers tapping against the armrest as he considered the implications. He’d built his empire on ruthless loyalty, on men who would die for the family without question. But his son was becoming a liability a weakness that could be exploited by their enemies.

“We need to remind Max of his responsibilities,” Jos said quietly, his voice laced with cold authority. “This… bookstore girl has become a distraction. Make sure he understands that she could be more than just a distraction—she’s a threat to him.”

Marco inclined his head, understanding the unspoken command. They couldn’t afford loose ends. If Max couldn’t be swayed, the girl would have to go. Marco left the room, a faint grimace on his face. He’d always respected Max, but he’d be damned if he let anyone ruin everything they’d built.

It started with a quiet warning. One night, as he slipped into the back office of his family’s club, one of his father’s oldest lieutenants, Marco, was waiting for him. Marco was a man with eyes as cold as winter and a voice like gravel. He eyed Max for a long moment, his face unreadable.

“Word around is you’ve been spending a lot of time away,” Marco said, his tone almost casual, though there was a hard edge beneath it.

Max didn’t flinch, keeping his expression carefully blank. “And?”

“And,” Marco continued, stepping closer, “you’ve got responsibilities, Max. The family isn’t just a part-time job. Your father knew that. I hope you haven’t forgotten.”

Max clenched his jaw, but he forced himself to stay calm. “I haven’t forgotten. I just… I’m handling things in my way.”

Marco’s gaze was heavy. “Your way better be the right way. People are noticing. They’re questioning your loyalty.”

Max stifled a growl, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Of course, people were noticing. Word got around fast in the family, and Max knew better than anyone that loyalty was their currency. He was walking a fine line, trying to juggle two worlds that didn’t seem to mix.

“My loyalty isn’t in question,” he ground out, holding Marco’s gaze. “I know where my responsibilities lie.” 

Marco looked unconvinced, but he didn’t press any further. He simply nodded an ominous gesture that echoed through the office. As the door closed behind Marco, leaving Max alone, he let out a weary sigh. He was tired of the constant tests, the suspicion, the threats. It was never-ending, a constant game of proving himself worthy. His entire life had been shaped by this role, groomed and molded to be the perfect successor.

But now…now he was questioning it all. For the first time, he was considering walking away from everything, from the life that his father had set out for him. All because of *her*.

Max slumped into the chair behind the desk, rubbing a hand over his face. He knew he was playing a dangerous game. His father had never tolerated disobedience, especially from him. He'd always expected obedience above all else, and Max's deviation from that path would not be lightly tolerated. 

Max’s thoughts drifted to *her.* He'd spent every waking moment with her, drowning in the bliss of her company. But each moment had only heightened his desire for something more than what he already had. Something real. Authentic.

He leaned back, closing his eyes. He could hear her voice, her laugh, her soft sighs. He could almost feel her skin under his fingers, the way she fit so perfectly against him. But he couldn’t have her, not in the way he truly wanted. Not unless he was willing to give everything else up. 

The thought sent a pang of regret through him. His family, his legacy, his entire life it was all built on bloodshed and secrets. Was he ready to turn his back on it all?

He opened his eyes, looking at the room around him. The room his father had spent countless hours in, strategizing, planning, and ruling an empire built on violence and fear. Was this the life he wanted to live? Was this the life he wanted her to be a part of?

He knew the answer. The knowledge sat heavily in his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs. He was teetering on the edge of a decision that would change everything, a decision that would mean leaving one life behind for another.

He thought back to their time together, the stolen moments in the bookstore, the whispered secrets in shadowed corners. Every moment had deepened his feelings for her. He’d been trying to fight them, to ignore them, but it was a useless battle. 

He was in love with her. Deeply, completely, irrevocably in love. The realization made him sit upright in the chair, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d been denying it, fighting it, but the truth was there. He loved her. He wanted a life with her. A real life. A life without secrets, without violence. 

He knew it was a pipe dream, a foolish, impossible dream. But he found himself grasping for it anyway, holding onto the idea like a drowning man grasping for a lifeline.

“This is crazy,” he murmured to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “This is insane.”

He stood up, pacing the room in an attempt to clear his head. But his mind was a storm, thoughts churning together in a confusing mess.

There was no future for them. No world where his family, and his role in the organization, would allow him to be with her. And yet, he couldn’t let her go, couldn’t turn his feelings off like a switch. He could almost hear his father's voice in his mind, a harsh whisper in the back of his head. *You belong to this family. You're not here to make your own choices, Max.*

He closed his eyes again, trying to drown out the voice. But the words only echoed louder in his mind, a constant reminder of the life he was supposed to lead, the life he'd been groomed for.

And yet, amidst the chaos, one thought rang louder than the rest — a thought that both filled him with hope and made him feel like a traitor to everything he knew:

*She’s more important.*

Max leaned on the desk, taking deep breaths, trying to calm the maelstrom of emotions. It was a foolish thought, a dangerous thought. And yet, it was a thought that he couldn’t shake off, a thought that had taken root in his heart and refused to let go. He couldn't have both worlds. That much was clear. He couldn't be a part of the family *and* be free to be with her. He couldn't be the man his father wanted *and* the man she needed. He had to make a choice. 

And the choice, no matter how foolish, was already made. For her, he would be willing to give up everything. For her, he was willing to risk it all.

The next time he saw Y/N, she noticed the tension right away. They were sitting at a small cafe she loved, nestled away from the bustle of the city. She studied him quietly over her coffee, brow furrowed in concern.

“You seem different today,” she said gently, her voice breaking through his troubled thoughts.

Max forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just a rough day, that’s all.”

She watched him carefully, not pushing for more but not letting it go either. After a moment, she reached across the table, placing her hand over his. The warmth of her touch steadied him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

“You know,” she said softly, “you can tell me anything. I don’t know much about you, but I know you’re not just the quiet guy who hangs around bookstores. You don’t have to hide.”

Her words pierced him, and he felt an ache deep in his chest. He wanted to tell her everything—the blood, the secrets, the things he’d done to keep his family’s empire running. But how could he? How could he shatter the perfect image she saw in him and risk losing the only good thing he’d ever had?

“I know,” he said quietly, his fingers tightening around hers. “Maybe one day, I’ll tell you. But not yet.”

He watched the confusion flicker in her eyes. He could see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to piece together the pieces he was giving her. 

She was perceptive and smart, and it killed him that he couldn’t be honest with her. 

The silence between them stretched, heavy with the things he wasn’t saying. He wanted to pour it all out, to share the weight of his secrets and the burden of his role, but for now, the words stuck in his throat. He shifted, his gaze dropping to their hands, intertwined on the table. The contrast between them was stark hers, soft and unmarred, his, calloused and marked with tiny scars, the souvenirs of fights and battles she knew nothing about.

He turned his hand, his fingers tracing the lines on his skin, the ridges that spoke of life so separate from hers that the mere thought of bridging the gap felt like a fantasy. She must have seen his gaze, the way his eyes followed the tracks of his past. She traced her fingers over his knuckles, light and tender, like a whisper over his scars.

“Does it hurt?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

*Yes*, he wanted to shout, *It hurts like hell.*

Instead, he just shook his head, offering her another half-smile. “Just old wounds,” he replied, his voice gruff. The look in her eyes told him she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t press the issue. She just continued tracing her fingers over his skin, her touch a soft, soothing comfort he didn’t deserve.

He fought the urge to lean into her touch, to let the warmth wash over him and make him forget everything else. But reality loomed over them, a dark cloud on a sunny afternoon. She moved her hand, picking up her coffee again and taking a sip. He missed the contact immediately, the absence of her touch like a cold knife in his side.

“Max,” she said finally, her eyes searching his face, “promise me one thing.”

He knew what was coming. The question he dreaded and longed for all at once.  He met her gaze, bracing himself. ‘What?” he managed to say.

She took a deep breath, the next word leaving her lips in a rush. “Don’t keep shutting me out. I don’t know what’s going on with you, or why you won’t tell me anything. But we’re…we’re friends, aren’t we?”

The word hit him like a punch to the gut. ‘Friends’. It was such a small word, but it felt so huge, loaded with all the things he wanted and everything he couldn’t have. He nodded, his heart clenching uncomfortably. “We’re friends, yes,” he said softly, his voice hoarse.

She smiled at his answer, that small, hopeful smile that sent his heart into somersaults. He swallowed hard, pushing down the maelstrom of emotions that threatened to spill out.

She didn't need to know what he was capable of. She didn’t need to know the darkness that lurked in the shadows of his world.

 They finished their coffee in relative silence. He felt the weight of her unasked questions hanging in the air. Questions he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, answer. He watched her, trying to memorize every feature, every gesture, every expression. As if he was trying to imprint her into his memory, a moment of light in the dark of his existence.

When they stood to leave, he reached out, almost without thinking, to help adjust her scarf. His fingers grazed the skin on her collar, a small, almost electric contact. She looked up at him, a question in her eyes, and he quickly withdrew his touch.

“Don't want you to catch a cold,” he mumbled, his voice gruff, avoiding her gaze. She didn’t comment on his quick retreat, just smiled, a soft, knowing smile. “Thanks, Max,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

They made their way out of the cafe, the crisp fall air biting as they stepped onto the sidewalk. He took a deep breath, trying to fill his lungs with something other than the scent of her perfume. As they stood there, on the cusp of parting ways, he had to fight the urge to just pull her into his arms, to hold her tightly, and never let go. But he couldn’t, not here, not now. So he just stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to conceal his clenched fists.

“See you later?” she asked, her voice soft, hopeful.

“Yeah,” he managed to say, his voice rougher than he wanted it to be. “Later.”

He watched her walk away, her figure getting smaller in the distance. As she turned a corner and disappeared, he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. The walk back to his car was a blur. His mind was in turmoil, a mess of thoughts and feelings he couldn't sort through. All of them, somehow, involved her.

When he finally reached his car, he leaned against the door, taking a moment to collect himself. *This is insane*, he thought, *I can't keep doing this*.

But even as the thought formed in his mind, he knew it was useless. He was in too deep. The pull of her was too strong. There was no turning back, not while her smile and laugh continued to haunt his every waking moment.

He climbed into the car, starting the engine with a sigh. As he pulled out of the parking spot, he knew he was driving straight towards a decision he would likely come to regret.

The next day, Max returned to his family’s estate, the weight of his decision settling heavily on his shoulders. He walked through the ornate halls he’d grown up in, feeling a strange sense of detachment as he entered his father’s office. Jos sat behind his desk, Marco at his side, both of them staring watching him with expressions of silent judgment.

“Max,” Jos greeted, his voice deceptively calm. “I hear you’ve been… busy.”

Max didn’t flinch, his gaze hard and unyielding. “I know you’ve been watching me.”

Joe's smirk didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course we have. You’re a valuable part of this family, Max. It’s only natural we keep an eye on where your loyalties lie.”

“My loyalties,” Max said, his voice steady, “are to my own life. I want out.”

Marco’s face twisted in contempt, and Jos’ expression grew darker. “You think you can just walk away?” Jos said quietly. “That girl of yours—she’s a liability, Max. You can’t just abandon everything we’ve built for a stranger.”

“She’s not a stranger,” Max said sharply, his voice filled with a fierce determination. “She’s the only real thing in my life. And I’m done living in a cage, following orders, hurting people for you.”

A tense silence settled over the room, thick with the threat of violence. Jos’s face twisted in anger, his hands clenching the edge of the desk. “You’re my son,” he hissed. “You carry my legacy. If you betray this family, you’ll be the one living in fear.”

Max took a steady breath, his heart pounding. “I don’t care. I’ll protect her from anything you try, and if you hurt her, I’ll make sure it’s the last mistake you ever make.”

Jos’ gaze darkened, but there was a flicker of hesitation. For the first time, Max saw a glint of fear in his father’s eyes—a realization that he could lose the one person who understood their empire best.

The room was a tableau of tension, a stand-off between father and son, both at an impasse.

Max’s heart was hammering against his ribcage, but he stood his ground, facing down his father’s silent glare.

Marco shifted, his muscles tense, ready to attack at a moment’s notice. But a subtle shake of Jos’ head kept him in place, holding him back.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, the quiet punctuated only by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Jos stood slowly, his eyes never leaving Max. He moved with the quiet precision of a hunter preparing to strike. He walked around the desk, his footsteps echoing in the room.

Max remained motionless, meeting his father’s glare with a defiant one of his own. As Jos approached, Max could hardly draw a steady breath. He could feel the danger in the air, like the electric charge before a storm. When his father stopped in front of him, they were mere inches apart, the air heavy with tension.

“You’d betray us?” Jos whispered, the threat barely contained beneath the surface. A flicker of anger passed over Max’s face. He knew what his father was asking. *Would you betray us for a woman you barely know?*

“Yes.” The word came out firm, without a trace of doubt. Max didn’t hesitate, he didn’t waver. He stood his ground, staring into his father’s eyes without flinching.

There was a note of disbelief in his father’s voice, as if he couldn’t fathom the idea of Max choosing a person over the empire he’d helped build.

Max didn’t back down. He met his father’s gaze squarely, his answer clear in his eyes. “Yes. For her.”

But Max didn’t wait for his father’s response. He turned on his heel, his decision made. He would leave, taking Y/N and disappearing from this life. But he knew they wouldn’t stop coming. He’d have to stay ahead, always watching over his shoulder, always ready to fight.

As he stepped outside, the weight of his choice pressed heavily on him. He knew he was stepping into a storm, but he’d finally found something worth fighting for and nothing, not even his father’s wrath, would stop him now.

Max took a deep breath, the cold air biting into his lungs. He’d made his choice. He’d taken the first step towards something he’d never dared to dream of. 

It was a dangerous, foolish, insane choice.

*And he loved every second of it.*

His thoughts turned to y/n. He could picture her, her soft smile, her laughter, her eyes that seemed to see right through him. The thought of her fueled him and gave him purpose. He had to protect her, above all else.

But as he walked towards his car, the shadows of his past seemed to cast long, ominous shadows over his path. He knew his father and Marco wouldn’t let him go so easily. He had to be ready. He had to prepare. *He had to make sure she was safe.*

He climbed into his car, determination burning hot in his veins. He started the engine, the roar of it a steady, reassuring presence.

As he pulled out of the estate, he didn’t look back.  There was no going back now. He drove through the city streets, his mind working in overdrive. He had to devise a plan, a way to disappear without a trace. But more importantly, he had to keep y/n safe. He couldn’t let her get caught in the crossfire.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white. There was no room for mistakes and no margin for error. The sun was beginning to dip beneath the horizon, casting the city in a warm, golden glow. But there was no beauty in it, no joy in the sight. For Max, every shadow seemed a potential threat, every corner a place to hide.

He knew his father and Marco could be watching. They might be tracking his every move, or they could be waiting for him at his apartment, ready to ambush him. He made a few detours, taking roundabout routes to throw off anyone who might be following him. His adrenaline was pumping, making him hyper-aware of every passing vehicle, every pedestrian on the sidewalk.

When he finally pulled up to y/n’s apartment building, he sat in the car for a few moments, surveying the area.

The street was mostly quiet, with nothing but a few passersby and a couple of cars parked on the street. He didn’t see anything suspicious, but that didn’t relax him. He knew his father had eyes everywhere, and they could be watching from anywhere, anyone. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He had to play it cool, not alarm Y/N. She couldn’t know the danger she was in, not yet. He would tell her, but he had to make sure she was safe first.

With one last look around, he got out of the car and headed towards her apartment. With each step, his heart thumped louder against his ribcage, like a drum announcing his arrival. He reached her door, hesitating for a moment. Then he knocked, three sharp raps followed by a pause.

The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity as he waited for the door to open. Finally, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and the door swung open.

There she stood, beautiful and blissfully unaware of the danger looming just beyond her threshold.

Her face lit up when she saw him, a bright, beautiful smile spreading across her features. “Max, hi,” she greeted him, her voice filled with warmth.

For a moment, he was just lost in her, her presence bringing a soothing calm to his tumultuous mind. But it lasted only a moment. He had to remember why he was there, and what he needed to do.

“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice gruff. He could see the flicker of surprise in her eyes, but she nodded, stepping aside to let him enter. He followed her into the apartment, his eyes scanning the room. It was a cozy place, filled with little touches of her; a vase of fresh flowers, a few books piled on the coffee table, and a picture of her with her family on the mantelpiece.

But he didn’t have much time to take it all in. He turned, facing her, his expression serious. She closed the door, leaning against it as she watched him. “Everything okay?” she asked, that note of concern in her voice. 

He let out a shaky breath. “We need to talk.”

She studied his face, probably noticing the tension and the anxiety written across it. But she simply smiled, gesturing towards the living room. “Okay, let's go sit down then.”

He nodded, following her into the living room and sitting down on the couch. She sat next to him, turning to face him. There was more concern on her face now, but she remained silent, waiting for him to speak.

He stared at his hands, now clenched tightly in his lap. The words were stuck in his throat, refusing to come out. *How do you tell someone their life is in danger because of you?*

He took another shaky breath, lifting his gaze to meet hers. Her eyes were filled with worry now, but there was no suspicion yet. She didn’t know what he was about to say.

Finally, he found his voice. “You trust me, right?”

She was taken aback by the question, but she nodded immediately. “Of course I do,” she said, her voice firm, certain.

He was relieved and terrified by her response. He didn’t deserve her trust, not with the life he lived. But he also knew he could use it, weaponize it to protect her.

He reached out, taking her hand in his. Her skin was soft, her fingers delicate against his palm. It took everything he had to stop himself from squeezing too hard, to avoid revealing the fear and desperation raging inside him.

He took another deep breath, gathering his words. “There’s something I need to tell you. And you have to promise you’ll hear me out, no matter how it sounds.”

There was a flicker of doubt in her eyes, but she squeezed his hand, reassuring him. “Okay,” she said, her voice calm, steady. “I’m listening.”

“I need you to pack a bag with only the essentials,” Max says. Her eyes widened, confusion clouding her features. “What?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly. “What’s going on, Max?”

He squeezed her hand again, holding her gaze. “I’ll explain. Just please, pack a bag. Now.”

She was uneasy, but she nodded, reluctantly slipping her hand from his grip. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll go pack.”

He watched as she stood and walked towards the bedroom, her steps slow, almost reluctant. Once she disappeared from view, he let out a low curse. This was harder than he’d imagined.

The minutes ticked by excruciatingly slowly, the silence in the room like a physical presence. He couldn’t make himself sit still, he had to keep moving, keep his mind busy. He walked around the living room, his eyes constantly flicking towards the bedroom door. *What was taking her so long?*

Just when he was about to go check on her, she reappeared, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Her face was carefully blank, a stark contrast to the emotions he could see swirling in her eyes.

“Got everything?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice steady. She nodded wordlessly, her fingers clenching the strap of the bag. He could see the hundred questions in her eyes, but she didn’t voice them. *Not yet.*

“Come on,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “We need to go.”

She nodded again, following him as he turned towards the front door. She paused at the threshold, her eyes taking in the room one last time. It was clear the realization was setting in, the reality of what was happening. But she didn’t ask any questions.

As they walked out of the apartment, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. This was all his fault. If he hadn’t involved her in his life, she’d still be safe and comfortable in her home. But he couldn’t change the past, he could only try to protect her in the present.

He led her to his car, opening the passenger door for her. She climbed in, buckling her seatbelt silently. As he closed the door, he caught a glimpse of her face through the window. 

Her expression was solemn, her eyes wide and troubled. But there was no fear, no anger. Just a quiet, steady trust that both reassured and scared him.

He walked around the car, getting in the driver's seat. As he turned on the engine, he glanced over at her. “You’re quiet.” 

She looked over at him then, her eyes meeting his. “I’m scared,” she admitted in a soft voice. 

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He’d known she was scared, but hearing her say it out loud somehow made it more real, more urgent.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. “I know.” 

He reached over, taking her hand in his again. “But I’m here. I’m going to protect you.”

For a moment, she simply held his gaze. Then she nodded, a determined look settling over her features. “I trust you.”

Those two simple words, spoken with such conviction, sent a wave of emotions through him. *She trusted him. She believed in him.*

He squeezed her hand, hoping she could feel all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t. Then he looked away, focusing on the road ahead.

The drive was mostly silent. He kept his eyes on the road, his mind working overtime. He was acutely aware of her presence next to him, her hand still in his. Every so often he would gently brush his thumb over her knuckles, a silent gesture of reassurance.

But as the minutes ticked by, she remained quiet. He didn’t blame her. There were so many questions, so much to take in. In her place, he’d probably be questioning his sanity right about now.

He wanted to explain himself, to tell her everything. But the words always stayed stuck in his throat, his fear of losing her overpowering everything else. They drove late into the night, the city lights gradually fading as they left the metropolitan area. He was heading for one of the small towns near the coast, a place where they could lie low. He would figure out the rest later. *He had to.*

As the city skyline gave way to open fields and the occasional farmhouse, she finally spoke. “Where are we going?” 

It was the first thing she’d said in hours. Her voice was just a whisper against the rumble of the engine, but it was enough to make his heart pound.

He looked over at her, his eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to the road. “Somewhere safe,” he said simply.

It was a vague answer, but it was all he could give her at the moment. He couldn’t tell her they were running, that they were going to be living off the grid for the foreseeable future. That would only terrify her more. 

She didn’t press him, which he was grateful for. Instead, she turned away, looking out the window at the passing landscape. The silence settled back over them, thick and impenetrable. 

He could sense the tension radiating off her, the questions she was undoubtedly dying to ask. But she kept her mouth closed, keeping her trust in him despite the circumstances. They drove for hours, the night deepening around them. He checked the rearview mirror frequently, his eyes scanning the road behind for any sign of following cars. But the road remained empty, the taillights of other vehicles vanishing into the distance.

His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and plans, the only anchor being the feel of her hand in his. He wanted to assure her, to tell her everything would be alright. But he knew that was a lie, at least for now. The worst was yet to come.

After another hour, they finally reached the edge of the small town. The streetlights were dim, the houses few and far between. This was good, it would be easier to lay low here.

He slowed the car as they entered town, driving past a closed gas station, a darkened diner, and a small motel. The motel signs were all turned off, the only light coming from a flickering neon sign advertising vacancies. He pulled into the parking lot, looking around the area with a critical eye. It was dead, with no cars or people in sight. *Perfect*.

He parked the car in a spot near the end of the lot, furthest away from the motel office. He killed the engine, the sudden silence in the car deafening. He looked over at her, trying to gauge her expression.

She was staring at him, the faint light from a streetlamp outside casting shadows on her face. He could see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes, mixed with determination and resignation. He knew then that she would stay by his side no matter what.

He reached over, releasing her hand to brush his knuckles over her cheek. Her skin was soft and warm. For a moment, he forgot everything, lost in her. But reality came crashing back in, bringing with it the weight of the situation. He drew his hand back, clearing his throat. “We should probably check in.” 

She said nothing, simply nodding in agreement. He climbed out of the car, walking around to open her door for her. She climbed out, her legs a bit wobbly from the long drive. He offered her his arm for support, and she took it, her hand gripping his arm tight. They walked towards the motel office, their footsteps echoing loudly in the quiet night.

The office was small and dimly lit, the lobby almost deserted. The desk clerk looked up lazily as they entered, his eyes immediately zeroing in on their linked arms. Max could feel his gaze linger on their coupled hands, but he ignored it, concentrating on checking them in. The clerk, noticing the look in Max's eyes, wisely kept any comments to himself. He simply handed Max the key to one of the rooms, a silent agreement to not ask any questions. Max nodded in thanks, pulling y/n with him out of the office.

The night air was cold and crisp, a sharp contrast to the heat of the office. He led her towards the room, their footsteps crunching softly on the gravel parking lot. He glanced at her occasionally, noticing the slight frown on her face and the way she shivered in the cold.

"We're almost there," he assured her, his voice soft. He hurried his steps, eager to get her out of the cold and into the warmth of the motel room. They reached the door, and he quickly unlocked it, pushing the door open to reveal the small room inside. The room was simple but clean. There was a queen-sized bed in the center, with a small desk and chair in the corner. The bathroom was a separate room, visible through an open door. The light from the streetlamp outside filtered through the curtains, casting shadows across the room.

He ushered her inside, flicking on the light switch as he closed the door behind them. She looked around, taking in the room with wide eyes. Her gaze lingered on the bed for a moment before she looked at him, her brow furrowed in silent questioning. He could guess what she was thinking. There was only one bed, and they were not sharing it. He swallowed, forcing himself to ignore the ache in his chest at the thought. "I'll take the chair," he said, his voice gruff.

She looked at him, her lips parting as if to protest. But she seemed to think better of it, simply nodding instead. "Okay," she whispered. He looked away, the soft sound of her voice sending a jolt through him. It was going to be a long night. He walked over to the desk, pulled the chair out, and sat down. He leaned back against the hard plastic, closing his eyes and letting out a tired sigh.

He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. His mind was too busy, too overloaded with everything that had happened. And the knowledge that she was just a few feet away, so close and yet untouchable, was not helping matters. He opened his eyes, looking over at her. She was sitting on the bed, her legs drawn up to her chest, her fingers toying with a loose thread on the bedspread. She looked small and vulnerable, the fear and uncertainty on her face making his heartache. He wanted to go to her, to comfort her, to promise her that everything would be fine. But he knew he couldn't, not yet. He had to keep his distance, to maintain some semblance of control. For her sake as much as his own.

The silence in the room was deafening. He could hear every small sound, every breath, and every rustle of fabric. It was maddening, like a slow torture. But he forced himself to stay still, to focus on the steady rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed. She looked up then, her eyes catching him in the semi-darkness of the room. He held her gaze, his heart pounding in his ears. At that moment, all his carefully constructed walls crumbled, his desire and need for her almost overwhelming him.

He wanted to reach out to her, to drag her closer until there was no space between them. He wanted to feel her skin against his, to taste her lips, to hold her until they were both too tired to think.  But he didn't. He stayed where he was, his fingers gripping the edge of the chair, his entire body taut with restraint. *This was for her good, he kept reminding himself.* 

She was watching him, he could feel it. Her eyes were like a physical touch, sending shivers down his spine, and stirring up feelings he had no right to have. He wanted to break the silence, to say something, but he didn't trust his voice not to betray him. The seconds ticked by slowly, the only sound in the room was the steady tick of the wall clock. He could see her looking at him, her eyes tracing the contours of his face, lingering on his lips. It was almost unbearable, the heat in her gaze sending a bolt of desire straight through his gut. He wanted to look away, to break the spell her gaze seemed to have over him. But he couldn’t, his eyes locked on hers like a moth drawn to a flame. He could see the way her chest rose and fell, her breathing growing shallow and fast, matching his rapid heartbeat.

The tension in the room grew thicker, like a living thing between them. The air was electric, crackling with unspoken emotions. He could see her hands clenching and unclenching on the bedspread, and he knew she was struggling as he was, fighting against the pull of their mutual attraction. He clenched his jaw, trying to rein in his emotions, to keep his desire and need for her under control. But it was nearly impossible, every breath, every small movement she made, fanning the fire inside of him.

The air was thick with desire, and the silence between them charged with an almost tangible energy. He knew they were both teetering on the edge, the line between restraint and surrender growing thinner with each passing second.

He was the first to break, his resolve finally crumbling under the weight of his yearning. He stood up suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise and something else. Hope, maybe, or anticipation. Max needed to escape the room; he felt suffocated as if life had punched him in the throat. Nothing was going the way he wanted. He walked to the door without looking back, desperate for a moment to breathe.

He had never felt this way before panic washed over him, and he didn’t know what to do. He stepped outside, the cold air biting at his skin. He leaned against the wall, taking in the cold night, trying to calm his frantic mind. He was supposed to be the one in control, the one who knew what he was doing. But right now, he was lost, drowning in his own emotions. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands in frustration. He was used to being in charge, to calling the shots. But with her, everything was different. He felt raw and exposed, vulnerable in a way he'd sworn he'd never be again.

He drew in a deep breath, the cold air burning his lungs. He needed to pull himself together, to get a grip on the situation. But the image of her face, the need and desire he saw in her eyes, were branded in his mind, making it impossible to think. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the noise in his head. But the silence of the night only amplified the sound of his heartbeat, the rush of his blood. He had never felt so alive, so on edge. And it was terrifying.

The sun was just starting to rise on the horizon, casting the world in a soft, golden light. Max was driving, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his mind still a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The silence in the car was heavy, the weight of the night's events hanging heavily in the air. y/n was sitting in the passenger seat, her body turned slightly towards him, her eyes fixed on his profile. He could feel her gaze on him, like a physical touch, stirring up feelings he had no right to feel.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, his voice gravelly. He didn't look at her, his eyes firmly on the road ahead. He didn't trust himself to look at her now, to see the expression on her face. "I didn't." her reply was quiet, almost a whisper. It sent a pang of guilt through him, knowing that he was the reason she couldn't sleep. He could picture her, lying awake in the darkness, trying to find a comfortable position in the cramped bed. 

"Me either," he admitted, his voice hoarse. He hadn't slept a wink, his mind too busy, his body too tense. He had spent the night pacing the tiny motel room, trying to walk off his restless energy, but it had been futile. They fell into silence again, the only sound the hum of the engine and the tires on the road. Max clenched his jaw, the tension in the car almost unbearable. He was desperate to say something, to break the silence, but he didn't know what to say.

He glanced at her from the corner of his, taking in her profile, the way her hair fell in soft waves around her face. She looked tired, her eyes a little puffy from lack of sleep. But she was still beautiful, more so than ever in the soft morning light. He looked away, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He needed to keep his distance, to remember why he had left the room last night in the first place. But it was getting harder and harder to ignore the way his heart ached when he looked at her, the way his body responded to her presence.

But he was also afraid. Not of her, but of himself, of the feelings he had for her. He had always been in control, never allowing himself to be vulnerable or emotional. It was what had made him successful, what had made him the man he was today. And he was terrified of losing that control, of becoming someone else because of her. But then he caught another glimpse of her from the corner of his eye, her head resting against the seat, her eyes closed. She was dozing off, her eyelashes casting little shadows on her cheeks. He felt a pang in his chest, a strange mix of longing and protectiveness. 

The drive continued, the only sound the soft hum of the engine and her soft, even breaths. Max's thoughts continued to churn, his emotions swirling in a tangle of confusion and desire. He had never felt this way before, so out of control, so at the mercy of his feelings. He glanced at her again, his eyes lingering on her face, the peace and innocence in her sleep. He wanted to commit her to memory, to imprint every detail into his mind. He knew it was a dangerous thing to do, but he couldn't help it.

Y/N stood by the window now, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Max was still by the fireplace, sharpening the knives he kept in his bag. The quiet weight of their shared history hung in the air.

“I never thanked you properly for that night,” Y/N said, breaking the silence. She hadn’t spoken about it before, but the memory was still so vivid in her mind. That night had changed everything.

Max didn’t look up, his movements steady and mechanical as he worked. “You don’t need to,” he replied, his voice neutral, as always. “I did what I had to.”

She looked at him for a moment, searching for some hint of what he was feeling. For so long, Max had been a closed book. She had tried to get to know him—know him—but every time she felt like she was getting closer, he shut himself off again.

But now, in this quiet cabin, with the firelight casting flickering shadows across his face, Y/N noticed a difference. He wasn’t the same man who had stepped into that alley that night. She wasn’t sure how or when it happened, but she felt a shift between them. Something unspoken, growing.

Max paused in his work, the knife hanging in the air for a moment, his eyes fixed on the sharp edge of the blade. He had felt the shift too, the tension, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. But he was afraid, that if he looked at her now, if he let himself acknowledge what he was feeling, he would not be able to keep his distance.

"I didn't expect a thank you," he said gruffly, his fingers resuming their work, the sound of the sharpening stone against metal filling the room.

Y/N turned back to the window, the last vestiges of sunlight painting the horizon in pinks and oranges. The world outside was quiet, and peaceful, in stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside her. She knew better than to push him, to try to force him to open up. But she couldn't help but want to know him, to understand the enigma that was Max Verstappen.

"Why did you do it, Max?" she asked, her voice soft. "Why did you help me that night?" 

Max's hand paused again, the knife still in his hand, the stone poised over the blade. He knew she would ask him this one day. But he wasn't ready to answer, to confront the reality of his feelings.

"It was the right thing to do," he said simply, resuming his movement, the sound of the stone against metal filling the silence. Y/N turned, leaning against the windowsill, her eyes on him. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was set, the way he was trying to pretend he was focused on his task. But she knew better.

"Is that the only reason?" she pressed, her voice soft, yet insistent. Max didn’t answer, the silence stretching between them. He could feel her gaze, the questions she was asking without words. He wanted to answer her, to tell her the truth. But he was a coward, too afraid to confess his feelings.

"What other reason could there be?" he asked, feigning nonchalance, his eyes fixed on the knife blade. Y/N felt a pang in her chest at his response. There were so many other reasons, so many things she longed to hear from him, but she knew he wouldn’t say them. Not now, maybe not ever.

"There could be dozens of reasons," she said, her voice softer now, almost a whisper. "Curiosity, boredom, a sense of obligation..."

Max's hand paused, the knife balanced idly against the whetstone. He could hear the disappointment in her voice, the subtle hint of hurt. It made his gut clench, but he pushed the feeling down, burying it under his practiced indifference.

"You’re overthinking it," he said, a hint of irritation in his voice.

Y/N felt a sting of anger at his words, his aloofness setting her nerves on edge. She knew he was trying to push her away, to shut down any chance of an honest conversation, but she was tired of his walls.

"I’m not overthinking it," she retorted, her voice rising slightly. “You’re under-feeling it, as usual.”

Max looked up at her then, his eyes sharp, his expression guarded. He knew she was right, he knew he was bottling up his feelings, but he didn’t know any other way. Showing vulnerability was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

"And you’re overreacting," he shot back, the words meant to hurt as much as they were meant to deflect. Y/N felt her anger flare, her frustration boiling over. She had tried to understand him, to be patient, to look beyond his cold exterior, but he was making it nearly impossible.

"I’m not overreacting," she nearly snapped, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I’m trying to understand, to get you to talk to me. But you’re just shutting me out... again." 

Max's hands gripped the knife and stone more tightly, his knuckles white, his jaw clenched. Her words stung more than he'd like to admit, hitting too close to home.

"There’s nothing to talk about,” he bit out, his voice cold. "You’re looking for something that isn’t there, y/n. You’re imagining things."

Y/N felt a pang of hurt at his words, his cold dismissal like a slap to the face. She had felt that there was more to them, a connection that was hard to ignore. But he was denying it, shutting down any possibility of more.

"Then maybe I’m delusional," she muttered, her voice filled with an aching sadness. "Because I thought... Nevermind."

Max could hear the sadness in her voice, the resignation that was setting in, and he hated it. Hated himself a little for causing it. But he didn’t know how to change, how to be the man she wanted him to be. 

"You think too much," he tried to joke, but the attempt fell flat, his voice lacking the usual humor.

Y/N’s heart was breaking a little more with each word he said. She had hoped for so much more, for a real conversation, for some sign that he felt something for her, something more than just obligation or curiosity. 

"And you don’t think enough," she retorted, her voice sharp. "You’re hiding, Max. Behind those walls, you’ve built up around yourself. And they’re getting taller each day."

Max’s grip on the knife tightened even more, his knuckles white, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. He hated that she knew him so well, that she could see through his walls like they were tissue paper.

"They're there for a reason," he ground out. "To keep me—and people like you—safe." 

Y/N felt a mixture of anger and pain surge through her at his words. He was shutting her out, pushing her away, because he was scared. 

"Safe?" she repeated, her voice rising. "You don’t push people away for their good, Max. You do it because you’re afraid. Afraid of feeling, of being vulnerable." Max’s eyes flashed at her words, his temper flaring. Her accusations were like knives, stabbing at his weak spots, exposing his vulnerabilities. 

"I’m not afraid," he snapped, his voice hard and cold. "I’m just realistic. Feelings get you killed in my world." Y/N felt the sting of tears behind her eyes, the depth of his loneliness and fear making her heartache. But her anger was flaring too, her frustration with his stubbornness fueling her words.

"Maybe in your world," she retorted her voice firm and even. "But in my world, feelings are what make life worth living. And you’re missing out, Max. You’re missing out big time."

Max almost threw the knife down, the stone clattering to the floor. The anger inside him was building, threatening to boil over. He couldn’t understand how to make her so emotional, how she could just wear her feelings on her sleeve. 

"Feelings get you killed, y/n," he repeated, his voice like ice. "They make you weak, a target. I’d have been dead years ago if I let myself feel."

Y/N clenched her fists, the urge to punch him rising. But she somehow restrained herself, holding herself back from giving in to her anger.

"Weak?" she repeated, her voice shaking with rage. "Feelings make you human, Max. They make you who you are, who you ought to be. And you’re missing out on all of it because you’re too damned stubborn to try."

Max’s chest was heaving now, his breaths coming in short, hard gasps. Her words were like bullets, each one finding its mark. But he refused to show weakness, to acknowledge the truth in her words. 

"I don’t need your understanding or your compassion," he growled, his hands shaking with anger and suppressed emotion. "I’m fine the way I am."

Y/N took a step towards him, her anger burning bright. "No," she shot back, her voice steady despite the fire in her eyes. "You’re not fine, Max. You’re alone. You always will be if you don’t pull your head out of your ass."

Max’s eyes widened in shock at her outburst. No one had ever spoken to him like this, so bluntly, so boldly. It was both frustrating and enthralling. 

"Watch how you speak to me," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "You’re way out of your depth here, y/n."

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, the sound harsh and dry. "I’ll speak to you any way I damn please, Max," she bit back, closing the remaining distance so she was standing right in front of him. "And you don’t scare me. Not one bit."

Max’s breath caught in his chest as she got closer, her insolent tone and fearless stare sparking an unfamiliar feeling in him. He wanted to grab her, to shake her, to make her understand the danger she was in. But he also wanted to pull her closer, to feel her warmth against him, to lose himself in her fire. 

"You should be scared," he managed to say, his voice hoarse, his body tensing.

Y/N met his gaze without flinching, her eyes holding him with a fire that he’d never seen before. "I’m not," she replied, her voice steady. "Because I know you won’t hurt me. You may pretend to be this cold, hard killer, but deep down, you’re nothing of the sort."

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Max finally confesses that he loved her, that her being here, in this cabin, with him, was by his design. It was overwhelming, the sheer weight of emotion in his words, the rawness in his voice. 

“Max” She took a step closer, her hands reaching out as if to touch him, to anchor herself against the storm of emotions threatening to knock her off her feet. He flinched as he felt her hands on his chest, her touch like electricity on his skin. He had never been one to crave physical contact, but now, with her, it was like a drug. He wanted more, so much more. 

"Don’t," he said, his hands coming up to grasp her wrists, to keep her from getting any closer. "Don’t touch me. Don’t look at me like that." Y/N ignored his request, her fingers tracing the lines of muscle on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart underneath his shirt. "Why?" she asked, her voice soft, her eyes fixed on his. "Why can’t I touch you? Why can’t I look at you?"

Max felt himself shudder at her touch, every nerve ending in his body alive with a strange fire. He should have pushed her away, should have put an end to this madness. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

"Because Because " he stammered, his mind a jumble of thoughts and feelings. "Because if you keep looking at me like that if you keep touching me… I won’t be able to control myself."

Y/N noticed the desperation in his voice and the hunger in his eyes. She knew he was fighting a losing battle, fighting his feelings. But she couldn't stop herself from pushing him further, from wanting more. 

"And what if I don’t want you to control yourself?" she teased, her fingers dancing over his skin, tracing the muscles of his shoulders. Max was coming undone beneath her touch, her words sending a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t resist any longer, the dam he had built up around his emotions was cracking.

"You don’t know what you're saying," he managed to say, his voice hoarse. But his hands on her wrists were gentler now, no longer trying to push her away. Y/N moved even closer, her body now pressed against his, her hands sliding up to his neck. She could feel the heat from his body, her heart racing. 

"I know exactly what I’m saying," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "I want you, Max. All of you. And I won’t let you push me away."

Max was drowning in her touch, in her words, in her scent. He could feel her body against his, her breath on his skin. Every instinct he had was telling him to push her away, to save her from himself. But the desire, the need to have her was overpowering.

"You don’t know what you’re getting into," he husked, his hands finally leaving her wrists, moving to her hips instead, pulling her even closer. "Once I have you, I’m never letting go." 

“God Max you're so dumb if you haven’t realized that you’ve had me since that night you saved my life” y/n admitted. Max's eyes widened at her words, the truth of them hitting him hard. He had had her all along, and he hadn't even realized it. He was so used to being alone, so used to guarding his heart, that he had missed the one person who had cared about him, truly and deeply. 

"You’re mine," he said, his voice almost a growl, his hands grabbing her hips more tightly. "No one else gets to have you, to touch you, to love you. Ever."

Y/N felt a thrill go through her at his possessive tone, the primal need in his voice. It should have scared her, to be claimed by a man like Max, a dangerous and complicated man. But it didn’t. It only made her want him more. 

"Then take me, Max," she whispered, her hands running down his chest, to the hem of his shirt. "Make me yours, completely."

Max’s control snapped. The last shred of restraint was gone, replaced with a fierce hunger, a primal need. He wanted her, needed her more than ever, and he was going to have her.

He pulled her against him, his mouth crashing onto hers in a bruising kiss. He devoured her, ravishing her mouth, claiming her body, making her his.

Y/N felt herself melt against him, her body submitting to his, giving him everything he wanted. The kiss was wild, unbridled, a tangle of teeth and tongue and passion. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him as he kissed her, as his hands roamed over her body, claiming her with every touch. Y/N felt herself melt against him, her body submitting to his, giving him everything he wanted. The kiss was wild, unbridled, a tangle of teeth and tongue and passion. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him as he kissed her, as his hands roamed over her body, claiming her with every touch. Max tasted her as if she were his last meal as if he couldn’t get enough of her. He pushed her back against the nearest wall, his body pressing against hers, his hands exploring her curves, claiming every inch of her.

He broke the kiss only to trail his lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin, marking her as his own. Y/N arched against him, her body responding to his touch, to his claim. Every nerve ending was on fire, her body aflame with desire. She had never felt like this before, so wanted, so desired. 

Her hands moved to his hair, her fingers tangling in his locks as she held him closer, begging for more. Max felt her surrender to him, her body responding to his every touch. He loved the way she felt in his arms, loved the way her body moved against his. His mind was hazy with desire, his skin on fire with need. 

His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, his fingers slipping under the fabric, pulling it up and off over her head. Y/N gasped as he pulled off her shirt, her skin bare now, sensitive to his touch. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, his hands roaming over her exposed flesh, his touch sending shivers down her spine. 

Her own hands were exploring his chest, her fingers tracing the hard planes of muscle, her nails scraping lightly over his skin. Max groaned at her touch, her nails on his skin making his head spin. He couldn’t get enough of her, he needed more. 

He pushed her back against the wall once more, his mouth finding her neck, his teeth scraping over her collarbone. His hands moved to the waistband of her pants, unbuttoning them, and pulling them down her legs. Y/N felt herself being stripped of every bit of clothing, Max’s hands and mouth leaving a trail of heat on her skin. She was bare before him, vulnerable and yet powerful in her desire for him. 

She pulled at his shirt now, needing to feel his skin against hers, needing to be as close to him as possible. Max pulled back just long enough to rip off his shirt, his chest now bare, his breathing heavy. He pulled her back against him, the skin-to-skin contact sending a jolt through his body. 

He picked her up effortlessly, carrying her towards the bed and laying her down gently. He looked at her there, lying beneath him, beautiful and perfect and completely his. Y/N looked up at him, the heat in his eyes stealing her breath. She had never felt so desired, so wanted, so needed. She reached for him, pulling him down on top of her, her hands roaming over his back, her legs wrapping around his waist. 

Max leaned down, his body covering hers, his mouth finding hers in a searing kiss. His hands were everywhere, his touch desperate, needy. He was on the verge of losing control, consumed by the fire that burned for her alone. 

He broke the kiss, his mouth trailing down her neck, her chest, his teeth nipping at her skin, marking her, claiming her. Y/N arched against him, her body moving in a rhythm all its own, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. She was lost in a sea of sensations, every touch sending waves of pleasure through her. 

She ran her hands over his back, her fingers tracing over the taut muscles, her nails scraping lightly, trying to urge him on. Max felt her nails on his skin, the sting of it only fueling the fire within him. He moved lower, his mouth finding her chest, his tongue flicking over her peaks, his teeth grazing her skin. He wanted to taste every inch of her, to make her his completely. 

Y/N felt herself coming undone beneath him, her body responding to his every touch, his every move. She was burning for him, her body on fire with desire. She wanted him, needed him, more than anything. 

"Max," she gasped, her voice rough and breathless. "Please. I need you. Now."

Max didn't need any more encouragement. He was past the point of no return, consumed by his need for her, his entire body on edge. He positioned himself at her entrance, his body thrumming with anticipation. 

He looked down at her, her eyes wild and desperate, her body begging for him. He wanted to savor this moment, to commit it to memory. But the need was too overpowering, the hunger too strong.Y/N looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, holding his gaze. She could see the fire in his eyes, the barely contained need burning within him. She wanted to say something, to express her own need, but she couldn’t find the words, couldn’t break the spell. 

Instead, she reached for him, her hands pulling him down to her, her body arching against his, silently begging for him to give her what they both so desperately needed. Max couldn't hold back any longer. The feel of her body against his, the fire in her eyes, it was all too much. 

He pushed into her slowly, her body welcoming him, her heat enveloping him. He groaned, her name a whisper on his lips, as he felt himself being pulled deeper, closer. 

He started to move, a slow, deep rhythm at first, trying to savor this moment, to make it last. But the feeling, the sheer intensity of it, was too much. He found himself moving faster, harder, deeper, consumed by the need to own her, to make her his, to love her. Max lost himself in her, his body moving with a primal rhythm, his thoughts consumed by desire, by need. He was lost in her, in the feel of her body, the taste of her skin, the sound of her cries. 

He wanted more, needed more. He needed all of her.

He moved even faster, harder, pulling her closer, deeper, trying to fuse them completely. The pleasure was building, hot and intense, driving them to pleasure. Y/N gasped as he moved, the pleasure building and building, so intense it was on the edge of pain. She held onto him, her nails digging into his skin, her body writhing beneath his.

She couldn’t form coherent thoughts, her mind consumed by the sensations, by the burning need. It was all too much, and yet not enough. She wanted more, needed more.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on, crying out his name, lost in the fire they had.

Max was beyond reason, beyond control. He could feel himself teetering on the edge, the pleasure building, burning him up from the inside out. 

He moved even faster, deeper, his body on autopilot, driven by the primal need to possess her, to claim her completely. 

His hand found her hip, his fingers digging in, holding her in place, holding her to him. "Mine," he growled, his voice rough and possessive. "You’re mine. All mine." Y/N felt the words down to her core, the possessive tone sending shivers through her body. She wanted to deny it, to rebel against the claim, but the feeling was too strong. She was his, in body, mind, and soul. 

She moved with him, her body responding to his every move, every touch. She could feel the pleasure building, intense and overwhelming. 

She reached for him, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. "God, Max," she gasped, her voice breathless, "I’m yours. All yours."

Max felt her words like a jolt of electricity. He loved hearing her say it, to hear her admit that she was his. It only fueled the fire within him. 

He moved even harder, deeper, the need to claim her completely overpowering him. He could feel himself losing control, teetering on the edge. 

He leaned down, his mouth finding her neck, his teeth scraping over her skin. "Say it again," he commanded, his voice rough and possessive. "Say you're mine."

Y/N gasped, the pleasure building to almost unbearable heights. The words came easily this time, the truth of them making her heartache. "I’m yours," she repeated, her voice hoarse and breathless. "I’m yours, all yours, Max. Only yours."

Max felt his body tense at her words, the fire within him burning hotter than ever. He was so close, so close to losing himself completely. 

He moved harder, faster, deeper, his body and mind completely consumed by pleasure, by need. 

He found her mouth, kissing her fiercely, claiming her in every way possible. "You’re mine," he growled against her lips, "Mine forever." Y/N felt the words wash over her, the possessiveness in them igniting a fire within her. She was lost, completely lost to the sensations, to the feelings he was evoking. 

She met his kisses with her own, her body moving with his, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. 

"Yes," she gasped, her voice breathless and strained, "Always. Always yours."

Max felt the pleasure building, the pressure within him mounting. It was too much. He was on the verge of losing control, losing himself completely to the fire within him. 

He moved with a frantic pace, his body driven by the need to claim her, to make her fully his. 

He looked down at her, his eyes locking with hers, holding her gaze as he teetered on the edge, the pleasure reaching its peak. "Y/N," he groaned, his voice rough and desperate, "Say my name." Y/N felt his body tensing, felt the need in his voice, the fire in his eyes. She was lost in the sensations, in the overwhelming pleasure. She looked up at him, her eyes holding his, her body responding to his every move. 

She reached up and cupped his face, her thumbs tracing over his skin. "Max," she breathed, her voice a mere whisper, "Max, I'm yours."

Max felt her say his name, the sound of it like a spark igniting the fire within him. The need, the desire, the love he felt for her was overwhelming, all-consuming. 

He was on the edge now, so close to losing himself completely. 

He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming in harsh gasps. "Damn it, Y/N," he whispered, his voice strained, "I love you, I love you so much it hurts."

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her heart swelling in her chest. She'd never heard him say those words before, and hearing them now, in this moment, it was overwhelming. 

She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, her breath catching in her throat. "Max," she said, her voice a broken whisper. "I love you too."

Those words, those three little words, they were all it took. 

Max felt everything in him explode. The pleasure, the need, the love, it all boiled over, consuming him completely.

He let out a guttural moan, his body trembling as he found his release, his mind completely blank, his senses overwhelmed. 

He held onto her, his body collapsing on top of hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "God, Y/N," he managed to say, his voice rough and hoarse, "I love you so damn much." 

Y/N felt him shudder against her, the pleasure in his voice sending a thrill through her. She held onto him tightly, her arms around his shoulders, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her release. 

She held him close, her body cradling his, her hands gently running through his hair. "I love you," she murmured, her voice soft and filled with emotion, "So, so much." 

Max buried his face in her neck, his breaths still coming in ragged gasps. He felt raw, vulnerable, and exposed. But he didn't care. 

He'd just told her he loved her, something he'd never said to anyone before. He'd just given himself to her completely, body, mind, and soul. And it felt right. It felt good. 

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers, his expression soft and filled with tenderness. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "Promise me something."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes locking with his. She could see the vulnerability in his gaze, the soft tenderness in his expression. 

She ran her fingers gently over his cheek, an unspoken promise in her touch. "Anything," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Max felt his heart clench at her response, her words filling him with a mix of hope and fear. He knew what he was about to ask was a lot, a huge risk. But he had to take the chance.

He leaned his forehead against hers, their noses almost touching. "Promise me you'll stay with me," he said, his voice rough and hoarse, "No matter what." Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words. She could hear the fear in his voice, the desperate need for reassurance. 

She lifted her hand, her fingers tracing over his jawline, a silent promise in the touch. "I promise," she said, her voice so soft it was barely a whisper. "I'll stay, no matter what. Always." Max felt a wave of relief and gratitude wash over him at her words. Her promise, her reassurance, it was exactly what he needed to hear. 

He pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her, his body molding to hers. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply, the scent of her like a balm to his soul. 

He had put his heart on the line, had bared his soul to her, and she had not run away. She had stood her ground and had made him a promise. It was more than he ever dared to hope for. Y/N held him back just as tightly, her arms around his waist, her body fitting against his like a puzzle piece. 

She could feel the strength in him, the vulnerability. She could see the walls he had worked so hard to build starting to crumble, because of her. Because he loved her.

She ran her fingers through his hair gently, whispering, "I'm not going anywhere, Max. You're stuck with me now." Max chuckled softly against her, the sound a mixture of relief and amusement.

"Oh, I'm stuck with you, am I?" he asked, lifting his head to look down at her, a smirk playing on his lips. 

He tightened his arms around her, pressing her even closer, his tone teasing. "I guess there's no getting rid of you then, hm?" Y/N laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with humor. "Nope, sorry. You're stuck with me forever," she quipped, feigning an apologetic tone.

She reached up and ruffled his hair, a wicked gleam in her eye. "You should've thought about that before you fell in love with me," she teased, a smirk curving her lips. Max huffed out a laugh at her retort, his eyes narrowing in mock irritation. "Oh, and that's on me, is it?" he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

He pinched her side gently, his fingers drumming against her hip. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he said, his tone affectionate. Y/N yelped at the pinch, her body jerking against his. She tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he held her fast, his grip firm but gentle.

She looked up at him, her expression a mix of mock indignation and playful defiance. "Me, a pain in the ass?" she asked, her words flavored with a hint of laughter, "Oh, please. You love it." 

Max chuckled again, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. He pulled her even closer, his body pressing against hers.

"Maybe I do," he admitted, his voice low and rough. "Maybe I love it just as much as I love you."

He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, his lips brushing against her skin, his words muffled against her skin. "God, you drive me crazy, you know that?" 

Y/N shivered as he nuzzled her neck, her breath hitching at the feel of his lips against her skin. 

She tipped her head back, offering him better access, her hands roaming over his back, tracing lazy patterns on his skin. "I don't know," she said, her voice teasing, "Am I supposed to be sorry about that?"

Max nipped at her neck, his teeth grazing over her skin, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to send a shiver down her spine. 

"No," he said, his voice a low growl, "You're not sorry about it, are you?"

He pulled away slightly, looking down at her, his eyes smoldering with heat. "You love driving me crazy," he said, his tone rough and raw. Y/N's breath caught in her throat at the look in his eyes, the desire, the heat, it was almost too much to bear.

She felt her own body responding to his, her heart rate quickening, her skin heating up. 

"Maybe a little bit," she admitted slowly, a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. "But can you blame me? You make it so damn easy." Max's eyes darkened at her words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He tightened his arms around her, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips. 

"You're playing with fire, darling," he warned, his voice a low rumble. "Careful, or I might just lose control again." Y/N met his gaze, her expression one of feigned innocence. "Who, me?" she asked, her voice dripping with sweetness. 

She pressed a hand against his chest, her fingers splayed out over his thudding heart. "But I like seeing you lose control," she confessed, her voice a sultry whisper. "It's incredibly hot." Max's eyes nearly rolled back into his head at her admission, her words like fuel to the fire already burning within him. He leaned forward, his mouth by her ear, his breath hot against her skin. 

"You're a damn tease," he growled, "And you know it." Y/N chuckled, her breath hitching at the feel of his breath on her skin. "Guilty as charged," she admitted, her tone unapologetic. 

She shifted against him, her body moving in an unmistakably provocative way. "But you love it," she added, her voice dripping with sultriness.

Max growled again, his hands tightening on her hips, his body responding to her movements. He was losing control again, he could feel it. 

He could feel the fire within him burning hotter and hotter, the need for her overwhelming. He fought to hold on, to keep his control, but he was losing the battle fast.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he warned, his voice rough and strained. "I'm not going to be gentle."

Max's eyes darkened, and his breath caught in his throat. Her touch, her words, they were pushing him towards the edge. 

Y/N relished the tone of his voice, the low rumble that sent a shiver of desire down her spine. Her hands roamed over his body, her touch light but intentional, designed to fuel the blaze within him. "Who said I wanted you to be gentle?" she asked, her fingers tracing a path down his chest. He could feel his control slipping away, the fire within him burning white-hot. He leaned down, his voice a husky whisper against her ear, "Be careful what you ask for."

Y/N shivered at the heat in his voice, his words sending a thrill through her body. 

She pressed herself closer to him, her breath coming in short gasps. "I don't want to be careful," she breathed, her hands wandering further down, brushing over the front of his trousers. 

"I want you, Max, all of you." Max's breath hitched at her words, at the feel of her hand on him. His body was taut, his muscles coiled and tense, ready to snap.

He let out a guttural moan, his hands gripping her hips so tightly it was almost painful.

"You're driving me insane," he ground out, his voice rough and desperate. "You're going to be the death of me, I swear."

Y/N loved seeing him like this, desperate and unhinged, all because of her. 

She pressed her body against his, her hands exploring the planes of his chest. "Maybe that's kind of the point," she teased, her voice low and sultry. 

"Maybe I want to drive you insane. Maybe I want you to lose control." Max knew he was losing control, but he couldn't find it in him to care. 

He took his time exploring her body, his touch gentle and reverent. He paid attention to every little gasp and moan that escaped her lips, memorizing what she liked, what made her body arch and shudder beneath him. 

He wanted to imprint this moment in his memory, to commit her every reaction, every sound, to memory. 

"You're so damn beautiful," he whispered, his voice hoarse and rough. Y/N was lost in a haze of pleasure, her body responding to every touch, every caress. 

She'd never experienced anything like this before, this maddening mix of tenderness and raw desire, this feeling of being worshiped and adored. 

She ran her hands over his back, digging her fingers into his flesh, her voice a ragged whisper. "Max please " Max wanted time to stop leaving them in this moment forever but he was a rational man and he knew his with y/n was limited so he would give her anything he wanted. Max pressed his forehead against hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"What do you want, darling?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, his eyes holding hers. 

"Anything. I'll give you anything you want."

Y/N felt a wave of tenderness wash over her at his words, at the look in his eyes. 

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, her thumb tracing over his cheek. "I want you," she whispered, her voice soft but firm. 

"Just you. I want all of you." 

Max's eyes darkened at her words, his heart swelling in his chest. 

He turned his head, his lips brushing over the palm of her hand. "You have me, darling," he said, his voice low and rough. 

"You have all of me. I'm yours, completely yours."

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her heart fluttering in her chest. 

She pulled him down for a kiss, her lips moving hungrily against his. 

"You're mine," she breathed, her voice filled with a possessive edge, "And I'm not letting you go, Max. I'm never letting you go." Max returned her kiss with equal fervor, his body pressing hers into the mattress. 

He broke away from her mouth, his teeth grazing over her neck. 

"You're not getting rid of me, darling," he growled, his voice a raw, possessive rumble.  "I'm yours. For as long as you'll have me." Max says looking down at her. 

Y/n smiled sweetly up at cradling the side of his face “of course I’ll have you max. I’ll always have you” she says softly before kissing him. 

The next morning, Max found himself slumped in the old, creaky chair by the window, sunlight streaming in and casting warm patches across the worn wooden floor. On the table beside him lay the gun he had been meticulously cleaning, now untouched and gathering dust, as if it mirrored the chaos in his mind. He stared blankly at the intricate details of the firearm the way the light glinted off its polished metal, the grooves of the handle that felt oddly familiar in his grip but his thoughts were far from the present moment. 

The sharp scent of gunpowder lingered in the air as Max stood in the dimly lit warehouse, his eyes locked on the lifeless body of the man on the floor. Blood pooled around him, staining the concrete beneath. Max’s pulse barely quickened. He’d done this before. It had become second nature clean, efficient, unemotional.

Behind him, his father, Jos, stood with his arms crossed, watching the scene with a calm, detached gaze. It was as if this was nothing more than a business transaction. A simple job.

Max wiped the blood from his hands, his heart heavy but his face blank. He was eighteen, and already he’d seen more violence than most men saw in a lifetime. Jos had taught him well and had made sure his son knew the price of loyalty and the consequences of betrayal.

“Clean it up, Max,” Jos said, his voice low but commanding. “We don’t leave a mess.”

Max didn’t reply. There was no need for words. He moved to the side, motioning to the men who had been waiting for this moment. They began to drag the body out of sight, and Max turned his focus back to his father.

Jos approached, his gaze sharp and assessing. “You did good. You’re ready.”

Max swallowed the bitterness that rose in his throat. “Ready for what, exactly?”

Jo’s lips curved into a thin smile. “Ready to take on bigger jobs. You’ve proven yourself in the field. You understand the power we hold, the loyalty that binds us.” He looked Max over with a keen eye. “Now, it’s time you start carrying out the work that will solidify our family’s hold over this city.”

Max’s stomach tightened. He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going, but he wasn’t in a position to question it. Not then.

Jos stepped closer, his voice lowering. “This isn’t just about muscle, son. It’s about strategy. You’ll be making decisions. Learning how to control men, how to make deals, how to enforce our will. This city belongs to us, and I expect you to protect it.”

Max nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He knew that this was more than just killing. This was about taking power, holding onto it with an iron fist, and doing whatever it took to keep the family at the top. He had been raised to believe that this was his destiny.

A few months later, Max was in the backseat of a sleek black car, his knuckles white from gripping the leather seat. His father’s business was expanding, and that meant more jobs—jobs that Max didn’t feel comfortable doing but never once questioned. His father had trained him to be ruthless, and he would be.

They had just finished a deal with a rival faction, and things had gone south. One of the men involved had tried to double-cross Jos. Now, they were on their way to deal with him, to make sure he never did it again.

Max didn’t speak much during the ride. He stared out of the window, his mind going over the plan. Jos had made it clear. The traitor had to pay the price. There was no room for weakness.

When the car stopped in front of an old warehouse, Max’s body tensed. This wasn’t just a simple hit. The man they were after had family—his wife, his kids. Max had never been asked to kill an innocent person before, but he knew the game well enough to know that in the world they lived in, anyone could be collateral damage.

Jos stepped out first, followed by Max and his men. They moved swiftly, heading toward the building. Max’s heart raced as they approached the door, knowing what would come next.

Inside, the man was waiting. He was on his knees, hands bound, his face pale with fear. His wife and children were behind him, terrified, clinging to each other. Jos gave a casual glance over his shoulder to Max, his voice calm but chilling.

“Make sure the wife and kids know their place. Don’t let them forget why this happened.”

Max stood frozen, watching the scene unfold. It wasn’t just the man’s life at stake now. His whole family was caught in the crossfire.

But Jos didn’t hesitate. He ordered the man to be executed in front of his family, making sure the wife and children witnessed it. Max’s stomach churned as he tried to keep his focus, trying to remind himself that this was the life they lived, that this was what he was trained for. Yet something inside him twisted, recoiling at the sight of the child’s tear-filled eyes.

Afterward, as they walked back to the car, Jos didn’t say a word about the mess they’d left behind, the people who would now be marked for life. But Max could see the pride in his father’s eyes. He had done his job. He had proven himself. But in the silence that followed, Max couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that what he’d just done was a step too far.

Max sat alone in his father’s office one evening, the weight of the past few weeks pressing down on him. He was twenty-two at the time, more deeply enmeshed in the family business than ever before. But it was starting to feel like a prison, and he was beginning to realize he had no way out.

Jos entered the room, his demeanor calm but cold. He had a job for Max a big one. But this time, it wasn’t about taking out a rival. This time, it was personal.

“There’s a traitor within our ranks,” Jos said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. “I need you to take care of him.”

Max looked up, his gaze steady. He had seen this before. He had been the one to carry out such orders countless times. But this time, it felt different. His hand clenched into a fist under the table.

“Who is it?” Max asked, his voice even.

Jos leaned forward, his eyes hard. “Yusuf.”

Max froze. The name hit him like a punch to the gut. Yusuf had always been a thorn in the side of the family, but Jos had never considered him a threat not until now.

“What’s he done?” Max asked, his voice tight.

Jos didn’t answer directly. Instead, he dropped a folder onto the desk. Inside, Max found surveillance photos of Yusuf meeting with rival factions, scheming behind his back.

“He’s trying to take control of the business. He’s planning a coup,” Jos said, his tone cold. “And I won’t let it happen. You will take care of it, Max. I’m counting on you.”

Max stared at the photos for a long moment, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He knew what this meant. If he killed Marco, there would be no turning back. He would be fully entrenched in his father’s empire, forever.

But it wasn’t just about loyalty anymore. It was about control about power. Max knew he had a choice, but at that moment, he wasn’t sure he was ready to make it.

Jos watched him closely, waiting for a response. But Max didn’t speak. His mind was already racing, wondering if he could ever truly break free from the chains his father had wrapped around him.

Max had been raised with expectations. His father, Jos, had made sure Max understood early on that loyalty to the family came first. There was no room for weakness, no room for doubt. When Max was barely eighteen, he had been sent on his first assignment”more like an initiation.

He still remembered the cold, sterile office of the warehouse, the pungent scent of cigar smoke hanging thick in the air as Jos spoke in that firm, commanding voice.

“You will do what is necessary, Max,” Jos had said. “There is no going back from this life. Remember that.”

Max’s first job was simple: eliminate a rival. No questions asked. No hesitation.

It was a clean job. A quiet job. He did what was required and moved on. There were no emotions, no second thoughts”only the task at hand. But that night, when he saw life leave the man’s eyes, something inside him shifted. Something that told him this was the path he had to follow, whether he wanted to or not.

He’d buried that feeling deep, knowing that he couldn’t afford to feel it. Not in his world. 

“Max?” Y/N’s voice snapped him back to the present, her soft, hesitant tone pulling him out of his thoughts.

He turned to face her, blinking in surprise. “What is it?”

She studied him carefully, her expression softening. “I don’t know why you keep doing this for me… But I think I get it now.”

Max frowned slightly. “Get what?”

“Why do you keep pushing everyone away,” Y/N said, her eyes locking onto him. “Why don't you let people get too close.”

Max’s breath caught in his throat. It was like she could see right through him. He wanted to deny it, to brush her words off, but instead, he found himself standing there, looking at her as if she were the only thing that made sense anymore.

“I don’t know how to be anything else,” he admitted quietly, the walls in his chest cracking just enough to let a little vulnerability slip through.

Y/N stepped closer, her voice gentle. “You don’t have to be that person anymore. You don’t have to push people away. Not with me.”

Max’s eyes flickered to hers, and for the first time in a long time, he felt the pull of something warm. Something genuine.

He wasn’t sure if he was ready to let go of everything he’d known, but with Y/N standing theres someone who wasn’t afraid of his darkness he felt like maybe, just maybe, he could try.

A few months ago, Max had been faced with the ultimate test of loyalty. His father had tasked him with making a choice: protect the family’s interests or eliminate anyone who stood in their way. There was no room for both.

But something had happened. Something Max couldn’t explain. When he thought about Y/N the way she looked at him, the way she made him feel like he wasn’t just his father’s son Max realized that he didn’t want to keep living a life based on violence and betrayal.

The night he decided to leave, he didn’t say goodbye to anyone. He just left, taking only what he needed. He couldn’t tell Y/N why he was doing it not yet but he knew one thing: He was done with the mafia. For her. For himself.

Max sat beside Y/N, the flickering fire casting long shadows across the room. They had spent the day in silence, both lost in their thoughts, yet more connected than ever. After weeks of running, of living in constant fear, tonight felt different. It felt like they were finding a new rhythm, a new normal.

Max glanced over at Y/N, who was staring into the fire, her expression contemplative. Her presence, once just a source of distraction, had begun to feel like something more”like peace.

He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing hers. It was a simple gesture, but it held more weight than words ever could.

Y/N turned to him, her heart beating a little faster. She’d been thinking about the same thing the way their bond had been growing. It hadn’t been instant, but every moment they shared felt like a small piece of a puzzle clicking into place.

Max took a deep breath, his voice quieter than usual. “I never thought I’d get out. Not really. I was born into this life, Y/N. Raised to take it all in stride. To be the boss. My father made sure of that.”

Y/N didn’t respond right away. She just listened, her heart heavy with empathy for the man sitting next to her. She had seen the coldness in his eyes when they first met, but now she understood it. It wasn’t who he was it was who he had been forced to be.

“I remember the first time my father sent me out on a job,” Max continued, his voice a little distant as the memory surfaced. “I was eighteen. I didn’t even know how to feel about it hell, I didn’t even know how to kill someone until he told me exactly how to do it.”

Y/N’s hand tightened around his, but she didn’t speak. She just let him continue, knowing that this was something he had kept buried for far too long.

“I did it,” he said softly, his voice full of a haunting finality. “Without question. I wasn’t a kid anymore. But I was still I don’t know… broken inside. I couldn’t feel what I was supposed to. Like, I knew what I had to do, but it didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel like me.”

Max paused the weight of his words hanging between them. He turned to face Y/N, his eyes filled with something unspoken.

“Until I met you.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his words. “Me?”

Max nodded slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You changed everything, Y/N. I didn’t know it then, but when I pulled you out of that alley… you made me feel something real again.”

Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest. Her breath caught as she realized the magnitude of what Max was saying. The man who had been hardened by years of violence, who had lived a life of solitude and coldness, was opening up to her. He wasn’t just speaking to her as the man who saved her that night”he was speaking as someone who had truly started to care.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Max continued, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know how to be this person I feel like I’m becoming when I’m with you. I’ve been a monster for so long that I’m not sure how to be anything else. But when I’m with you I don’t feel like that anymore.”

Y/N could feel the vulnerability in his words, and her heart ached for him. She could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between the man he had been and the man he wanted to be.

“I don’t need you to be perfect, Max,” she said softly, her voice steady and warm. “I just need you to be you. That’s all I ever wanted. Because…”

She stopped herself, the words catching in her throat. Her heart was pounding now, and she knew this was a moment they couldn’t go back from. She had to be honest, even if it terrified her.

“Because I love you and you're my best friend,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible.

Max froze, his entire body still as her words washed over him. It was like time had slowed down, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t sure what to say whether to admit the same feelings he had buried deep inside or to keep pushing them down, afraid of what it would mean.

But then Y/N squeezed his hand, her fingers trembling slightly, and he realized she was just as afraid as he was.

“I love you, too,” he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. “I think I have been for a while now. But I don’t know what this means for us, Y/N. I don’t know if we can escape the world I came from. And I don’t know if I can protect you from it.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, her thumb gently rubbing the back of his hand. “Max,” she said, her voice filled with quiet resolve, “maybe we can’t escape everything. Maybe our pasts will always follow us. But we can choose what we do next. We can choose what we make of this.”

Max let out a deep breath, feeling a weight he didn’t know he was carrying to start to lift. He looked at her, truly looked at her for the first time, seeing her not as someone he needed to protect, but as someone he wanted to protect. Someone who had brought light into his darkness.

For the first time in years, Max felt like he could finally choose something for himself. Something good.

He leaned in slowly, his hand gently cupping her face. “Then let’s choose this. Together.”

And in that moment, as their lips met for the third time, everything else faded away—the past, the danger, the uncertainty. There were only them.

But even as they shared this moment, the danger was still very much alive. Marco’s men had been closing in on them for weeks, and though they had been successful in evading capture, Max knew it was only a matter of time before they would have to face the consequences of their choices.

As they pulled apart, Max’s mind went back to the life he had left behind. Marco wasn’t someone who would let his son’s disappearance go unanswered. And his father’s wrath was never far behind.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” Max vowed, his voice low and fierce. “No matter what happens, I’ll protect you.”

Y/N met his gaze, her expression determined. “I trust you, Max. And I’ll fight with you. I don’t want to run anymore.”

The resolve in her voice made Max’s heart race. They were no longer just running from the past. They were ready to face whatever came next together.

And in that moment, they knew the fight was far from over. But at least they had each other. And that gave them more strength than they had ever known.

Max held her close, feeling her heart beating against his chest. He knew they had very little time before Marco’s men found them. But in that moment, all he could feel was her. The softness of her skin against his, the warmth of her breath on his neck.

He ran his fingers through her hair, his voice low. "There's something I have to tell you, darling."

“I know who you are Max,” Y/n says before Max can say anything else. Max is caught off guard by her words, his hand stilling in her hair. He looks down at her, his eyes dark and intense. 

"You knew?" he says, his voice a low rumble. 

He was not sure what he was expecting from her, but this wasn’t it. He'd been so careful to keep his true identity from her, to shield her from the darkness of his world. Y/N nods, her expression solemn but firm. 

She reaches up, placing her hand on his chest. She can feel his heart beating fast beneath her fingertips. 

“I’ve known for a while,” she admits softly. “I saw some things. Heard some things. I put it together.” 

Max just stares at her for a moment, processing her words. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised. She was smart and observant. Of course, she would figure it out eventually. He lets out a breath, his jaw clenching. "Why didn’t you say anything?" 

His voice is rough with emotion, a mixture of vulnerability and defensiveness. He had spent so much time and energy trying to keep this part of himself hidden from her. Now it seemed pointless. 

Y/N steps closer, her hand sliding up to press against his cheek. She looks at him with a mixture of understanding and concern. 

“I didn’t want you to think I was judging you,” she says, her voice gentle. “I know I know what you’ve been through. What you’ve done. But I also know that you’re more than your past, Max.” Her words hit him hard, like a punch to the gut. He had expected judgment, fear, and disappointment. But all he saw in her eyes was acceptance, understanding, love. 

His shoulders sag with a mixture of relief and confusion. How could she see the monster in him and still look at him like he was someone worth saving?

He pulls her towards him, wrapping his arms around her tightly, burying his face in her hair. He doesn’t know how to process the range of emotions running through him. 

“You should hate me,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with raw emotion. “You should be afraid.”

Y/N wraps her arms around him in return, holding him just as fiercely. She buries her face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him. 

“I don’t hate you, Max,” she says quietly, her voice quivering slightly. “I love you. okay Max I love you and I don’t know how much longer we have together but as long as I’m with you I’ll keep reminding you that.” Max’s heart clenches at her words, his grip on her tightening. He hadn’t dared hope that she would say that. Not after everything he had done, everything he had been. 

He pulls back slightly so he can look into her eyes. They’re glossy with unshed tears, but her gaze is unflinching, her determination clear. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, his voice rough. “You’re too good for me, too pure. I’ll just end up hurting you, or I’ll…” 

He trails off, unable to continue. It was the same fear that had been eating at him since the moment he realized he cared for her. The fear that he would destroy her, tainted her with his darkness. Y/N cups his face in her hands, making him look at her. Her eyes search his, her expression resolute. 

“You don’t get to decide who’s good enough for me,” she tells him firmly. “And I don’t care if you think you’ll hurt me. I can handle it. I’m choosing to be with you.” 

Max leans his head down, resting his forehead against hers. Her words make something deep within him ache. He was used to people leaving him, abandoning him. And yet here she was, throwing herself into the fire for him. 

“You’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met,” he mutters, unable to hide the hint of affection in his voice.

Y/N laughs softly, the sound a sweet melody to his ears. “You love it,” she says, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

Max snorts, his lips curving up in a wry grin. And despite the danger lurking on the edges of their happiness, he knows she’s right. He does love it. He loves her.

He pulls her closer, his arms encircling her waist as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. For a moment, they just stand there, holding each other. And in that moment, all the worries, all the dangers seem to melt away. 

Until the sound of footsteps outside the room shattered the fragile peace they had created.

Marco had never liked Max. Marco hated Max’s very existence. The tension between them had been palpable for years, even when Max had been under his father’s roof. Jos had always been the better leader, the more controlled, more calculating of the two. But Marco was ruthless in ways Jos never was.

When Max had left, disappearing into the night without a word, it was Marco’s fury that had been unleashed first. Jos, while angry, had been more patient, biding his time. But Marco? He wanted revenge.

Marco’s first move was to send out his men to track Max’s movements. He had no intention of letting Jos’ son walk away unpunished. Max’s defection had shaken the power dynamic in the family. Marco needed to reassert his dominance, to remind everyone that he was still in charge.

Max had been careful, covering his tracks and using everything he had learned in the mafia world to stay hidden. But Marco’s resources were vast, and his men were killed.

After days of searching, one of Marco’s men finally got a lead. A rumor, a whisper, a sighting. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to set the machine in motion.

Marco got the report late in the afternoon. He read through it slowly, his expression darkening with each word. But when he got to the end, he smiled a cruel, cold smile. 

He knew right where to find Max, and once he had him, there would be hell to pay. That night, a group of Marco’s men were sent to the location where Max and Y/N were staying. They moved with military precision, their footsteps silent, their weapons loaded and ready.

Max was vigilant, his ears straining for any sound that didn’t belong. This was the sort of situation he had been preparing for, and he wasn't going to let his guard down now. Max heard the first sound, a soft scuffle of shoes against gravel. He tensed, his eyes darting to the door. Y/N, dozing on the bed, noticed his sudden tension and sat up.

“What is it?” she whispered, her voice betraying her fear. 

Max didn’t answer. He was listening intently, trying to gauge how many men were outside. He could hear at least three, possibly more. They were circling the building, searching for a point of entry.

Max glanced around the room, his mind racing. They had to get moving, and quickly. His gaze fell on the window, and he silently cursed. It was small, barely big enough for him to fit through. But it would have to do.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice urgent. “Get up. We need to go, now.”

She didn’t question him, knowing now was not the time. She stood, quickly pulling on her shoes. Max moved to the window, quietly pushing it open.

Just then, there was a loud bang on the front door. Marco’s men had found the entrance. Max’s body tensed even further, his jaw clenching. They had seconds if that. Max turned to Y/N and held out his hand. “You first,” he said, his voice a low growl. Y/N didn’t hesitate, she climbed onto the windowsill and squeezed out through the opening.

Max followed, grunting as he had to force his broad shoulders through the narrow space. He dropped to the ground next to Y/N, his eyes on the door. It shook again as someone slammed against it from the other side.

“Stay close to me,” Max muttered, gripping Y/N’s arm. He started to move, keeping to the shadows. They had to reach the woods and the car before Marco’s men could catch them. They had just reached the tree line when the first shots rang out. Max pushed Y/N behind a tree for cover, his body shielding hers. He could hear Marco’s men shouting, their footsteps loud and aggressive.

Max and Y/N moved cautiously through the woods, their steps light but deliberate. They’d been on edge for days, the tension between them rising with every passing hour. Max kept glancing over his shoulder, scanning the tree line.

“This isn’t good,” Max muttered, his voice low. “We’re too exposed out here.”

Y/N stayed close, her hand gripping the strap of her bag. She could feel her heartbeat quicken, the air thick with anxiety.

Suddenly, the faint sound of a twig snapping echoed in the distance, cutting through the quiet night. Max stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing. He held up a hand to signal for Y/N to stay silent.

He motioned for her to stay behind a tree while he moved forward, moving like a shadow through the underbrush. His every sense was on high alert now, instincts kicking in. The danger was close, much closer than they had realized.

And then, he saw them.

A group of men, dressed in dark clothing, moved stealthily through the forest. They were too far to be a threat yet, but Max knew it was only a matter of time before they got closer.

Max took a step back, retreating slowly to where Y/N waited. His mind was racing. Marco’s men were on their tail.

“They’re here,” Max said, his voice tight. “We need to move. Now.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “How many of them?”

“At least five,” Max replied, his voice steady despite the rising tension. “Maybe more. They’ve got us pinned down.”

Marco wasn’t just looking for Max. He was searching for something more. He had learned about Y/N the woman who had been with Max, the one who had caused the shift in him. Marco had heard whispers about her, and he didn’t like what he’d heard.

In his mind, she was a weakness. A liability.

“Find her,” Marco had commanded his men, “and bring her to me. I’ll deal with Max myself. But if she’s as important to him as I think, she’ll be the key to getting him back.”

Marco’s obsession with control meant he couldn’t afford any loose ends, especially not someone who could pull Max away from the life he was supposed to lead.

Max and Y/N moved through the trees, their bodies close, keeping low. The fear was palpable now, but they couldn’t afford to let it consume them. They had to outsmart Marco’s men and get to safety before they were cornered.

Max knew the woods like the back of his hand, but this time, it wasn’t just about survival. This was about protecting Y/N, and that was a different kind of pressure.

They made their way toward a hidden path, hoping to use it as an escape route. But just as they thought they were in the clear, a voice rang out from behind them.

“Max! I know you’re out there.” It was Marco’s voice, smooth and menacing.

Max froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t let Marco get to them. Not now, not ever.

He turned to Y/N, his face grim. “Run. I’ll hold them off.”

Y/N grabbed his arm, her grip firm. “We run together, Max. I’m not leaving you.”

Max met her eyes, seeing the fear and determination in her gaze. He knew she wouldn’t back down, but they didn’t have much time.

“We’ll fight our way out,” he said, his voice steady. “Together.”

Sure, let’s continue the scene with Max and Y/N facing Marco’s men. The tension is high as they are cornered, but their bond is stronger than ever. This moment will test their trust in each other and their survival instincts.

Max’s heart raced as the voice of Marco rang out through the woods, sending a chill down his spine. The men were closing in on them, and the space around them seemed to shrink with every passing second.

“Max!” Marco’s voice echoed again, closer this time. “I know you’re out there. You can’t hide forever!”

Y/N’s grip on Max tightened as she tried to keep her breathing steady. The woods, once a place of refuge, now felt like a trap. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the fear threatening to overtake her, but Max’s steady presence beside her kept her grounded.

“Stay close,” Max murmured, his voice low but firm.

They moved quickly through the trees, but the sound of crunching leaves underfoot told them they weren’t going unnoticed. The pursuit was relentless.

Max knew they didn’t have much time. He had to think fast if they tried to run, they’d be easy targets. But if they could hold their ground for a moment, maybe, just maybe, they could make it out alive.

He looked around, searching for a way out. His eyes landed on an old cabin in the distance. The roof was partially caved in, but it was close enough that they could take refuge there at least for a little while.

“Over there,” Max said, his eyes locking with Y/N’s. “We can make it to that cabin. Stay low. Stick to the shadows.”

Y/N nodded, her face set with determination. She had come this far with Max, and there was no way she was backing down now. Together, they could get through this.

As they darted toward the cabin, a rustling sound broke through the air then the unmistakable sound of footsteps closing in. They were almost there, just a few more yards.

Max’s pulse quickened. He could hear the men behind them, their voices now loud and clear as they gave chase. Marco’s men were skilled, and they weren’t going to stop until they had Max and Y/N in their grasp.

“Don’t stop!” Max urged, his hand gripping Y/N’s as they pushed forward, the cabin getting closer by the second.

But just as they reached the door of the cabin, a sharp voice called out from the trees.

“There they are! Don’t let them get away!”

Max spun around just in time to see two of Marco’s men burst from the trees, guns drawn, closing in on them.

“Shit,” Max muttered under his breath. He didn’t have a choice anymore”he had to make a stand.

He grabbed Y/N’s arm and pulled her behind the cover of the cabin, forcing her to crouch low. He motioned for her to stay still as he pulled out his gun, the weight of it familiar in his hand. His heart pounded in his chest, but he knew what he had to do. Protect her. No matter the cost.

Max peeked around the corner, trying to get a better look at their attackers. He could see two men approaching, their eyes scanning the area. They hadn’t seen them yet, but they were getting closer.

Y/N’s breath was shaky, but she stayed silent, her eyes wide with fear as she watched Max prepare. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he was trying to anticipate their next move.

Max squeezed her hand once, reassuring her without words. They had to make this count.

Then, before he could react, the men rounded the corner of the cabin, their guns raised.

Max fired first.

The loud crack of the gunshot echoed through the woods, and one of the men staggered back, clutching his shoulder. The second man didn’t hesitate, immediately returning fire.

Max dove behind the cabin’s decaying wall, pulling Y/N with him. The bullets whizzed by, but they were safe for now, at least behind the cover.

“Stay down,” Max hissed through clenched teeth. His mind raced, looking for a way out. He couldn’t keep fighting here it was a losing battle.

Y/N’s eyes flicked to the gun in Max’s hand, and she nodded. “What’s the plan?”

Max’s gaze shifted toward the trees behind them, calculating his next move. “We’re going to make a run for it. On my mark.”

But before he could finish, he heard the unmistakable sound of boots crunching the leaves behind them. Max’s pulse surged in his chest. He wasn’t sure how many men Marco had sent, but he knew they couldn’t stay here much longer.

He turned to Y/N, his voice quiet but urgent. “We move in three, two”

The words were cut off by a voice—cold and commanding—that sliced through the night.

“You think you can run from me, Max?”

Max’s blood ran cold as Marco stepped into view from the tree line, his dark eyes fixed on them. His expression was calm, almost amused, as though he were merely observing a game he had already won.

Marco was a man who controlled everything he touched, and he would not allow his blood to slip through his fingers.

Max didn’t flinch. “Marco.”

The tension between them was palpable, thick as the air around them. Max stood his ground, his gun raised, but Marco made no move to draw his weapon. His men, however, were ready, guns trained on Max and Y/N.

“You’re making a mistake, Max,” Marco said, his tone almost pitiful. “You can’t escape who you are. You’re mine, boy. Your father’s not here to protect you, and now you’re mine to deal with.”

Max’s grip tightened on his gun, but Y/N moved to stand beside him, her body rigid with fear, yet unwavering. She was ready. “No,” she said, her voice strong. “He’s not yours, Marco. He’s his person now. You don’t control him anymore.”

Marco’s eyes flickered toward her, a dark glint of amusement crossing his face. “And you do you think you’re going to change that? A woman? How sweet. But you’re just as much of a liability as he is.”

Max stepped in front of her, his face hard. “You’ll never touch her, Marco.”

Marco’s smirk faded, his eyes narrowing. “You believe that? You think I won’t do whatever it takes to bring you back? To make you remember who you are?”

Max’s jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his gun. But he didn’t lower it. Not yet.

He knew what Marco wanted—to break him, to remind him of the life he had walked away from. But Max wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not now. Not when Y/N was by his side.

“You can try, Marco,” Max said, his voice low and steady. “But we’re not going back.”

Marco’s eyes glinted with something darker, more dangerous, as his lips curled into a sinister smile. He had Max exactly where he wanted him: cornered, with nowhere to run. But the fire in Max’s eyes told Marco that this time, things were different.

“You think you’re untouchable?” Marco sneered, slowly circling Max and Y/N like a predator sizing up its prey. His men stood at the ready, watching for any sign of movement. “You’re still my blood. You’re still bound by everything Father taught you. Taught me. Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten where you came from.”

Max held his ground, his gun still aimed at Marco. His pulse thundered in his ears, but his mind was clear. The old Max might have hesitated, might have been tempted by the power Marco offered, but that man was gone. The past was in the past. The present was all that mattered now.

“What do you mean by blood?” Max asked as far as he knew he was Jos’ only son but he also wouldn’t have put it past his father to have affairs with other women before or after he was born. 

“The old man never told you?” Marco says cockily with a chuckle, taking the barrel of the gun and tapping the side of his head with it before pointing it back at the two of them. 

Max’s expression hardened, his mind racing. “What are you talking about, Marco?” he demanded, his voice tight.

Marco’s grin only widened, a mocking glint in his eyes. “Poor little Max, the golden child, left in the dark.” He tapped the side of his head again with the gun, clearly enjoying himself. “Old man Jos never told you he had… extracurriculars?”

Max’s stomach twisted as realization began to creep in. “What are you saying?”

Marco chuckled, lowering the gun slightly as he leaned in closer. “I’m saying, dear brother,” he spat the word with bitterness, “that I’m as much a part of his legacy as you are. The only difference? I was the one left to fend for myself while you got the title, the protection, the kingdom handed to you.”

Max’s jaw clenched, anger flashing across his face. “You think I wanted any of that?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d rather be in your cozy little bookstore, playing at a normal life,” Marco sneered, “but blood is blood, Max. And whether you like it or not, I’m here to claim my piece.”

Max held Marco’s gaze, searching for any sign that this was some sick joke. But the anger in Marco’s eyes was real, years of resentment boiling to the surface.

“You think you’re entitled to something just because of blood?” Max shot back, his voice cold. “Jos barely treated me like a son. Whatever you think he gave me, it was a curse.”

Marco laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “Oh, you poor thing. Life in the big house, daddy’s golden boy, all while I grew up in the shadows. Do you know what that does to a person? Watching someone else live the life that should’ve been yours?”

“Nothing about this life was a gift,” Max replied, his voice low and dangerous. “And if you think Jos would have done any better by you, then you didn’t know him at all.”

Marco’s expression darkened, his grip tightening on the gun. “Maybe not. But I know one thing: you don’t deserve to walk away from all this. To pretend you can just leave and play house with your little bookstore.” He spat on the ground. “I clawed my way here, Max. Everything I have, I earned. And I’m not leaving empty-handed.”

Max took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. “So what’s the plan, Marco? You think you can just waltz in, wave a gun around, and take whatever you think I owe you?”

“Oh, I think I can do a lot more than that.” Marco smirked, stepping closer. “You may have walked away from Jos’ empire, but that leaves it wide open for someone else to take over. Maybe I’m not here for revenge, Max. Maybe I’m here to make you an offer.”

Max raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. “An offer?”

Marco’s grin was almost feral. “You and me. We take what’s left of the empire, rebuild it, make it ours. All that power, that legacy—it’s in our blood, Max. Think about it.”

For a moment, the weight of Marco’s words hung between them. The idea was tempting in a dark, twisted way—a chance to take control of the very thing that had once controlled him. But Max shook his head, breaking the spell.

“I left that life for a reason,” he said firmly. “I’m not going back, and I sure as hell won’t do it with you.”

Marco’s smile faded, replaced by a look of cold fury. “Then you’re a fool, Max. And if you won’t help me, you’ll wish you had. Because one way or another, I’m taking what’s mine.”

Y/N stood at Max’s side, her hand clenched into a fist. She was terrified, but her trust in Max was unwavering. She had seen the darkness that Max had been through, and she had witnessed the fight inside him to rise above it. This wasn’t the man Marco thought he could control anymore. This was a different Max—a man who had chosen his own path.

Marco’s gaze flickered to her, the hatred clear in his eyes. He knew that Y/N was the root of the problem. She had changed everything for Max—his priorities, his mindset, his resolve. Marco would never allow that.

“You think you’re going to protect her?” Marco laughed coldly. “You think you’re going to keep her safe from me? From us?”

Max took a step forward, narrowing the distance between himself and his uncle. His jaw clenched. “I won’t let you touch her, Marco. Not now. Not ever.”

Marco’s smirk faltered for just a moment, his eyes scanning Max’s face. Then his gaze snapped to the men around them. He nodded once, and they started to advance, inching closer to where Max and Y/N stood.

Max’s mind worked at lightning speed. He wasn’t about to let them get close. He had to get Y/N out of here. He had to protect her.

Without warning, Max fired another shot, taking down one of Marco’s men who had started to raise his weapon. The shot echoed through the night, a violent reminder of the stakes at hand.

“Move!” Max shouted at Y/N, grabbing her arm. They couldn’t stay here. Not now.

She didn’t need any further encouragement. She followed him, her legs pumping as they sprinted toward the trees. Marco’s men were still firing, but Max kept them off-balance, shooting at the trees to force them back.

“Keep running!” Max barked.

They ran as fast as they could, the sound of gunshots ringing in the air around them. Y/N’s breath came out in sharp, panicked gasps, but she stayed close to Max, her trust in him more solid than ever.

Max could feel the weight of every step, the knowledge that they were being hunted pushing him forward. He couldn’t let Marco win. Not now.

As they ran, Max’s thoughts briefly flickered back to the life he had once known—the life his father, Jos, had dragged him into.

The world of the mafia wasn’t a world Max had chosen. He had been born into it, groomed for it, shaped by it. But it was never what he wanted.

Jos had always pushed Max harder than anyone else, forcing him to take on dangerous assignments. There had been jobs that Max had carried out without question—jobs he didn’t want to think about now. There had been a hit in the dead of night on a rival gang leader. Max had pulled the trigger himself, following his father’s orders without a second thought.

Then there had been the night he’d been forced to take care of a traitor—a man who had once been loyal to his family but had turned on them. Max had done what he was told, even when it meant silencing a man who had once been a friend. He had never questioned Jos. He had believed in his father’s vision for the family until the day he realized it wasn’t a vision. It was a prison.

But then came Y/N.

She had been the catalyst. The thing that had shifted everything for Max. The moment he’d saved her, it was as if a new path had opened before him a path that wasn’t dictated by bloodlines or mafia codes. A path that was free of Marco’s influence. A path that was his own.

The small house that Max had found was tucked away on the outskirts of town, hidden by the dense trees. They reached it just as the sound of the vehicles grew louder, the engines rumbling through the night like a looming storm. Max quickly led Y/N inside, locking the door behind them with practiced ease.

He glanced out of the window, his fingers brushing over the gun in his jacket. He knew they didn’t have much time. He had learned to read the patterns of Marco’s men—how they moved, how they searched—but this time, it felt different. The air was thicker, the pressure mounting with every passing minute.

Y/N sat down on the rickety old couch, trying to calm her nerves, but the weight of the situation was wearing on her. She looked over at Max, who was pacing in front of the window, his eyes focused on the road that led into the woods.

“Max…” she said softly, her voice breaking through the silence. “I know you’re scared. I can see it. But you don’t have to do this alone.”

Max froze, his back stiffening. He didn’t turn around immediately, but after a long moment, he finally faced her, his expression unreadable. His gaze softened slightly, though the tension was still palpable.

“You don’t get it, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I’ve spent my whole life doing things I can’t take back. I’ve hurt people, ruined lives—all for my family, for the empire. But none of that matters now. All that matters is you.”

He took a step closer, his eyes searching hers for understanding. “If anything happens to you, I won’t be able to live with myself. I don’t care about anything else anymore. I just want you safe. Away from this mess.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she stood up, closing the distance between them. She could see the inner turmoil in his eyes—the battle he was fighting between the man he had been and the man he wanted to be. She reached out, touching his cheek gently.

“You don’t have to carry this burden alone,” she whispered, her thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped down his face. “I’m here, Max. I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Max allowed himself to lean into her touch. His shoulders sagged, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He had spent so long running from his past, trying to protect her from it, that he hadn’t stopped to let her in. But now, in this moment, with Marco’s men closing in, he realized something.

He couldn’t keep fighting this battle alone. Not anymore.

The moonlight filtered through the cracks in the dense woods as Max and Y/N made their way through the forest, their footsteps muffled by the thick blanket of fallen leaves. Max’s eyes darted back and forth, scanning the area, his senses heightened. He could hear the distant hum of engines and the faint crackle of radio chatter. Marco’s men were closing in, and they had to keep moving.

Y/N stayed close to him, her breath shallow as she clutched onto Max’s jacket, her face pale but resolute. She could feel the tension radiating off of him. She’d never seen him like this before—so focused, so fierce. He wasn’t just trying to protect her; he was fighting a battle within himself. She could sense the weight of his past pushing against the choices he was trying to make for their future.

“Max we can’t keep running like this,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. “We need a plan. We can’t outrun them forever.”

Max didn’t answer right away, his jaw clenched as he led her further into the woods, pushing through the underbrush with urgency. He knew she was right. But how could he make a plan when everything felt like it was slipping through his fingers? Marco and his men weren’t just after him anymore. They were after both of them. And the only thing standing between Y/N and them was Max’s desperation to keep her safe.

“We’ll figure it out,” Max finally muttered, his voice strained. “Just trust me, okay?”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination. She had always known Max had a dark past, but seeing him like this”so different from the man she first met”tugged at her heart. She wanted to believe they could escape this life, but the more she saw of Max’s world, the more she realized how deeply entrenched he was.

“Max, please,” she urged, her grip tightening on his arm. “We need to talk. You’re not just running from them. You’re running from yourself.”

Max’s heart clenched at her words, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he motioned for her to follow him down a narrow path that led to a small clearing ahead. He could see the glimmer of headlights cutting through the darkness—Marco’s men were getting closer. He needed to get them to the safe house he had prepared, and he needed to get there fast.

Suddenly, the sound of tires screeching to a halt outside somewhere in the woods jerked Max out of his thoughts. His eyes went wide, and in one fluid motion, he reached for his gun, his heart racing. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she stepped back, realizing the time had come.

Max turned to face her, his face hardening. “Stay behind me,” he ordered, his voice steely. “No matter what happens, don’t move.”

Y/N nodded, her hands trembling as she pressed herself against the wall. She could hear the sounds of footsteps outside, the distinct thud of boots crunching on gravel.

The door burst open without warning, and in stepped Marco, flanked by several of his men. His face was cold, calculating, as he looked around the small cabin.

“Well, well… Max,” Marco’s voice dripped with disdain. “I was hoping we could do this the easy way. But it looks like we’re doing it the hard way, after all.”

Max didn’t flinch. He stood his ground, his eyes never leaving Marco’s. The gun in his hand was steady, though the tension in his body was anything but.

“This ends tonight, Marco,” Max said, his voice low, but his words cutting through the air like a blade. “You’re not going to take her from me. I won’t let you.”

Marco chuckled, a mocking sound that echoed in the cabin. “You really think you can stop me? You’ve been running from your past, Max. You can’t outrun the family. You can’t outrun me.”

Max’s jaw clenched, his hand tightening around the gun. “I don’t care about the family anymore. I don’t care about the empire. I care about her. And if you think for one second that I’ll let you destroy that… you’re wrong.”

Max’s heart pounded as he faced off against Marco, his father’s enforcer and the one man who had haunted him for years. Marco’s cold smirk was gone, replaced by a steely determination that Max knew all too well. For Marco, this was a matter of principle, a ruthless reminder that no one—especially not Jos’ son—could turn his back on the family.

“You’ve always thought you were better than this life,” Marco sneered, circling Max like a predator sizing up its prey. “But you’re a fool if you think you can escape it. It’s in your blood, Max. It always will be.”

Max held his ground, his body tense. “I’m nothing like you, Marco. Nothing like my father.”

Marco’s gaze darkened, his voice dripping with contempt. “Then why are you still here, trying to protect her?” He nodded toward Y/N, who was still hidden in the shadows, her eyes wide as she watched the scene unfold. “If you cared about her, you’d know you’re putting her life on the line.”

Max’s grip tightened on his gun, his jaw clenching. “I am protecting her. I’m protecting her from people like you.”

Marco laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. “You can’t protect her from this world, Max. You were born into it, and now, so is she. You’ve made her a part of this, and there’s no escaping it.”

With a slight nod, Marco signaled his men to close in, their weapons raised. Max’s pulse raced, but he refused to back down. He had to think fast, act faster. The exit was blocked, and the only way out was through Marco and his men.

“Stay back, Y/N!” Max called over his shoulder. He didn’t dare take his eyes off Marco, but he could feel Y/N’s gaze on him, her fear mixed with determination.

But Y/N didn’t listen. She stepped out from behind the crates, her eyes flashing with defiance. “I’m not leaving you, Max.”

“Y/N—” Max started, but it was too late.

Marco raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Look at this—loyalty. Almost touching, isn’t it?”

Max’s patience snapped. He lunged forward, his fists colliding with Marco’s chest as they grappled. Marco’s men sprang into action, but Y/N, summoning every ounce of courage, threw herself into the fray, grabbing a fallen pipe from the floor and swinging it at one of Marco’s henchmen. The man staggered back, momentarily stunned, giving Max a moment to break free of Marco’s grip.

“Run!” Max shouted to Y/N, but she stayed put, her eyes blazing with determination. Together, they fought, their movements almost in sync as they faced down Marco and his men. Max knew they couldn’t hold out forever, but they had to try.

Marco, recovering quickly, let out a snarl. “You’re just delaying the inevitable, Max. We’ll hunt you down. Both of you.”

Max ignored him, his focus razor-sharp as he dodged another attack. They moved toward the exit, inch by inch, fighting off anyone who got in their way. But then, just as they neared the door, Marco raised his gun, aiming it directly at Y/N.

Max’s heart stopped. In that split second, everything slowed down.

“No!” he shouted, throwing himself in front of Y/N just as the gun went off. The shot echoed through the room, and pain seared through his shoulder. But he didn’t stop—he couldn’t. He pushed Y/N toward the door, his vision blurring as he fought to stay conscious.

“Go, Y/N!” he gasped, his voice hoarse with pain. “Get to the car!”

Y/N hesitated, her face pale with fear, but she nodded, her eyes filled with tears. She sprinted toward the car, her heart pounding as she heard the sounds of the struggle behind her.

Max stumbled after her, his hand pressed to his bleeding shoulder, but he refused to fall. He refused to let Marco win. With a final burst of strength, he reached the car and collapsed into the driver’s seat, slamming the door just as Y/N hit the gas.

They sped away, leaving Marco and his men in the dust, but the weight of what had just happened hung heavy between them.

As they drove through the night, Max leaned back, trying to catch his breath. The pain in his shoulder was agonizing, but he forced himself to focus, to stay conscious. Y/N’s hands gripped the steering wheel, her face a mixture of fear and worry as she glanced over at him.

“You’re hurt,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Max forced a faint smile. “I’ll live.”

But the truth was, he didn’t know how much longer they could keep running. They were in deeper than he’d ever anticipated, and Marco wouldn’t stop until he had them both.

“Max…” Y/N’s voice was barely a whisper. “Why did you do it? Why did you risk everything for me?”

Max met her gaze, his expression softening despite the pain. “Because you’re worth it. Because… because for the first time in my life, I have something real. Something worth fighting for.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but she smiled, reaching over to take his hand. They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their situation sinking in.

Finally, Max spoke, his voice filled with determination. “We’re going to get through this, Y/N. I don’t know how, but we will.”

Back at the hideout, Marco paced furiously, his face twisted with rage. His men were scattered, licking their wounds, but the real wound was to his pride. Max had defied him—and worse, he had escaped.

Jos’ voice echoed in Marco’s head, a reminder of the family’s iron rule: No one leaves. No one defies us.

But Marco was not one to give up easily. He knew Max would be on the run, hiding in the shadows. And he knew exactly where to look.

“Spread out,” he ordered his men, his voice cold and unwavering. “Find them. And bring them back alive. I want Max to see what happens to those who betray the family.”

Marco’s men nodded, their faces grim as they set off into the night. They knew the consequences of failure all too well.

As dawn broke, Max and Y/N pulled into a small, run-down motel on the edge of town. Y/N helped Max inside, guiding him to a bed where he could rest. She quickly set to work cleaning his wound, her hands gentle but determined.

As she worked, Max studied her face, his heart aching with a mixture of love and guilt. He had dragged her into a world of danger, into a life she didn’t deserve. But he also knew he couldn’t let her go.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry… for everything.”

Y/N looked up, her eyes fierce. “Don’t you dare apologize, Max. You saved me. You’ve protected me. And I chose to be here with you.”

Max’s heart swelled, and he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “We’re going to have to disappear. Go somewhere Marco and my father can’t find us.”

Y/N nodded, her expression resolute. “Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll leave all of this behind.”

For the first time, a glimmer of hope sparked between them. They had a long road ahead, but together, they had a chance.

As Max lay back, drifting into a restless sleep, he thought about the life he was leaving behind—the family, the power, the legacy. It was a life he had never wanted, a world he was finally breaking free from.

But he knew that as long as Jos and Marco were out there, they would never stop coming for him and Y/N. They would always be looking over their shoulders, always running. Unless Max found a way to end it once and for all.

When he awoke, Max knew what he had to do. It was risky, and it might cost him everything. But he would do it, for Y/N, for their future.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with a new resolve. “It’s time to end this.”

She looked at him, understanding in her eyes. “What are we going to do?”

Max took her hand, a spark of determination in his gaze. “We’re going to take down Marco. And then we’re going to be free.”

Max and Y/N knew they couldn’t do this alone. Marco was cunning, ruthless, and had a network of men at his disposal. But Max also knew that not everyone in his father’s organization was loyal to Marco. Some were just like him, caught in a world they never wanted to be a part of, bound by fear rather than loyalty.

Max glanced over at Y/N, who was leaning over a map, marking down possible locations where they could corner Marco and his men. The determination in her eyes was unmistakable. She wasn’t just in this to survive; she was ready to fight back.

“I know someone who might be able to help us,” Max said, breaking the silence.

Y/N looked up, curiosity in her eyes. “Who?”

“An old friend of mine, Victor. He was part of the family but left years ago. He managed to disappear and stay under the radar. If anyone knows how to avoid Marco’s reach—and take him down—it’s him.”

Y/N nodded, hope sparking in her expression. “Do you think he’ll help us?”

Max hesitated, memories of Victor flashing through his mind. They’d gone through a lot together, but things had soured when Victor left, realizing he couldn’t stomach the violence or the lack of control over his own life. Max had respected him for it, but he’d stayed behind, tied by his loyalty to his father.

“He’ll help us,” Max said finally. “If he knows what’s at stake, he’ll come through.”

A few days later, Max and Y/N arrived at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. It was one of the few places Victor trusted for clandestine meetings, and Max hoped his old friend still frequented it.

The place was dark and eerily quiet, the air thick with dust and the faint scent of oil. Max’s nerves were on edge as they waited, his hand instinctively hovering near his weapon.

After what felt like an eternity, they heard footsteps approaching. A tall figure emerged from the shadows, his face partially hidden beneath the brim of a worn baseball cap. As he stepped into the light, Max recognized him immediately—Victor, looking older but just as intense as he remembered.

“Max,” Victor greeted him, his tone cautious. His gaze shifted to Y/N, and he raised an eyebrow. “And you must be the reason Marco has been tearing the city apart looking for him.”

Y/N managed a faint smile. “I guess you could say that.”

Victor let out a dry chuckle, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. “You’ve stirred up a lot of trouble, Max. Marco’s men are everywhere. And Jos—well, he’s none too pleased with his son running around with a civilian.”

Max’s expression hardened. “I don’t care what he thinks. I’m done with all of it. We’re here because we need to end this.”

Victor studied him, his expression unreadable. “You’re asking for a death wish, Max. Going after Marco—going after your father, no less—that’s no small feat.”

“I know,” Max said, his voice steady. “But I can’t keep running, Victor. They won’t stop coming after us unless we make it impossible for them to do so.”

Victor’s gaze softened slightly, and he nodded. “All right. If you’re sure about this, I’ll help. But you need a solid plan, one that’ll keep you two alive.”

Y/N stepped forward, determination in her eyes. “We’re ready to fight. Just tell us what we need to do.”

With Victor’s help, Max and Y/N began to formulate a plan. They would lure Marco into a trap, using a location that could be easily controlled. The plan was risky, but it was their best chance of catching him off-guard.

Victor explained that there was an old factory on the outskirts of the city”one that had been abandoned for years and was seldom monitored. It was isolated enough that Marco wouldn’t suspect an ambush, but contained enough that they could limit his escape routes.

They would spread false information, leading Marco to believe that Max and Y/N were hiding out there, vulnerable and unprotected. When Marco showed up with his men, they’d be ready for him.

Max was acutely aware of the danger they were putting themselves in, but he was resolute. He looked over at Y/N, who nodded, her expression fierce. She was just as committed to this as he was.

Victor took out a map, marking down escape routes, vantage points, and ambush spots. “This is going to take perfect timing. If Marco suspects anything, he’s going to lose it. He's like a rabid dog with a bone you have to make it believable. 

“Oh it’ll be believable alright” Max says and the two exchange an handshake. 

As night fell, Max, Y/N, and Victor moved into the abandoned factory. The air was thick with dust, and the metal beams overhead groaned with age. Victor led them to the second floor, a vantage point that would give them a clear view of the ground level where Marco’s men would likely enter. They positioned themselves near the shadows, hidden but ready.

Max and Y/N exchanged a tense look. This wasn’t just about surviving the night; it was about putting an end to Marco’s threat for good. But they both knew that once the trap was set, there would be no turning back.

Victor knelt beside them, going over the plan one last time. “I’ll handle the detonators for the traps we set by the entrances. It should keep most of his men occupied, but Marco will be harder to take down. He’ll be looking for you, Max.”

Max nodded. “We just need to make sure he doesn’t walk out of here. This ends tonight.”

Y/N placed a hand on Max’s arm, her eyes soft but determined. “We’re ready. Whatever happens, we do this together.”

Max gave her a small smile, his gaze steady. “Together.”

It didn’t take long for the sound of approaching vehicles to echo through the empty factory. Max felt a chill run down his spine as he saw the headlights piercing through the darkness outside. Marco had brought more men than they’d anticipated, but it was too late to change the plan. He and Y/N exchanged a tense look as they heard the doors slam and the muffled voices of Marco’s men.

Victor caught Max’s eye and nodded, signaling that he was ready. He held the detonator for the traps they had rigged by the entrances, ready to trigger them as soon as Marco’s men entered.

From their vantage point, Max and Y/N watched as Marco strode in, his expression steely and focused. He was flanked by several armed men, their gazes scanning the factory’s dim interior.

“Spread out,” Marco ordered, his voice cold. “They’re here somewhere. I want them alive.”

Max held his breath as Victor pressed the first detonator. A loud explosion rocked the factory, and smoke filled the air. Marco’s men were thrown off balance, some of them stumbling backward as the entrance filled with dust and debris.

Using the distraction, Max and Y/N moved silently down a side staircase, making their way closer to the ground level where Marco was recovering from the blast.

Marco’s voice cut through the chaos. “You think you can take me down, Max?” he shouted, his tone mocking. “You’re just as foolish as your mother. You’re weak.”

Max clenched his jaw, the mention of his mother igniting a fury he’d kept buried. He stepped out from the shadows, his gaze locked on Marco.

“No, Marco,” Max said, his voice steady. “I’m nothing like you. And I’m ending this.”

Marco laughed, a cold, twisted sound. “Go ahead, Max. Let’s see if you have what it takes.”

Marco raised his gun, but before he could fire, Y/N moved in from the side, aiming and pulling the trigger. The shot hit one of Marco’s men square in the chest, sending him sprawling. Max took advantage of the moment, lunging forward and tackling Marco to the ground.

They grappled fiercely, years of anger and resentment pouring out in each punch. Marco fought back with a strength that took Max by surprise, but Max’s resolve was unbreakable. He was fighting not only for himself, but for Y/N and the life he wanted to build with her.

Victor took down another one of Marco’s men, shouting to Max and Y/N to fall back as more reinforcements arrived. But Max refused to let go of Marco, his hands clenched tightly around his collar.

Marco’s gaze held a glint of something unsettling”a confidence that sent a chill through Max. “You really think you can escape your father’s shadow? That you can just walk away from this life?”

Max’s grip tightened. “Watch me.”

Just as Marco started to pull away, Victor tossed Max a knife, and with one swift motion, Max drove it into Marco’s side. Marco’s eyes widened in shock, the fight draining from him as he fell back against the floor, his breathing ragged.

“You could have been great, Max,” he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. “You were always meant for this.”

Max knelt beside him, his expression hardened. “I’ll be great, Marco. Just not in the way you or father wanted.”

Marco’s gaze dimmed as he breathed his last, his reign of terror finally ending. Victor, catching his breath, nodded to Max and Y/N, signaling that it was time to go before any more of Jos’s men arrived.

As they ran through the factory, the weight of what they had just done hit them. They had defeated Marco, but Max knew that his father would come looking for them eventually. This fight wasn’t over”not entirely. But for the first time, he felt hope.

Max and Y/N drove through the night, the reality of their escape sinking in as the city faded in their rearview mirror. They didn’t know what the future held or where they would go, but they knew they were finally free.

As dawn broke over the horizon, Y/N reached for Max’s hand, her fingers lacing through his. “We did it,” she whispered, her voice filled with disbelief and relief.

Max squeezed her hand, a faint smile crossing his face. “Yeah, we did.”

With Marco gone, they had a chance”a real chance”to live the life they wanted. And though Jos’ shadow still loomed, Max was prepared to face whatever came next, as long as he had Y/N by his side.

For now, they would drive until they reached a place where no one knew their names, where they could start fresh. Together, they would forge a new path, one free from the violence and darkness of Max’s past.

The road stretched out before them, endless and full of possibility. And for the first time, Max felt at peace, knowing that he had finally broken free.

Max and Y/N eventually found themselves in a quiet coastal town, a place with winding streets and charming old buildings nestled near the sea. It was far enough from the city and all the memories that came with it. They rented a small, modest apartment overlooking the water, where they hoped they could finally start fresh.

The first few weeks were quiet, filled with long walks on the beach, lazy mornings over coffee, and late nights spent talking about dreams and regrets. It was a life Max had never thought possible, a life he didn’t know he could have. For once, they felt safe, wrapped in the peace of anonymity.

But the shadows of Max’s past weren’t so easily left behind. The tension, the feeling of being watched”it crept back slowly, chipping away at the calm they’d built.

One night, as they were walking back from a small restaurant by the shore, Max noticed a familiar black car parked just down the street. His stomach knotted. He hadn’t seen that car in years, but he knew it”one of his father’s old vehicles.

Y/N noticed his change in demeanor. “Max? Is everything okay?”

Max clenched his jaw, trying to keep his voice steady. “Let’s get back to the apartment.”

They made it back to the apartment, locking every door and window. Max peered outside, watching the car until it finally disappeared down the road. Y/N was by his side, her hand resting on his shoulder, grounding him in the present.

“Do you think it’s your father?” Y/N asked quietly.

Max exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. But if he’s found us here, we’re not safe.”

Just then, his phone buzzed. It was a number he didn’t recognize, but something told him to answer. He took a deep breath, lifting the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

A familiar voice spoke, low and menacing. “Max. You didn’t really think you could run forever, did you?”

It was Jos.

Max felt a chill run through him. His father’s voice was calm, calculating, as if this were just another business call.

“What do you want?” Max asked, his voice tense.

Jos chuckled softly. “What I’ve always wanted, son. I want you to come back. I’ll forget your disloyalty, if you return now. But this woman”she’s distracting you. She’s a weakness.”

Max’s grip on the phone tightened. “I’m not coming back, and Y/N is none of your concern.”

Jos sighed, his tone turning cold. “You’re making a mistake, Max. You’re my blood. And blood never betrays family. But if you insist on keeping her, you know what happens to liabilities.”

With that, the line went dead.

Max lowered the phone, his heart pounding. He looked at Y/N, who watched him anxiously. “It was my father. he knows we’re here. And he’s not going to stop.”

Max and Y/N knew they had to leave the town immediately. But this time, they couldn’t just run blindly. They needed a plan, something that would allow them to disappear for good. Max realized they would need help to outsmart his father”a network, a way to stay hidden and off the grid.

That night, they packed their bags, taking only the essentials. Max reached out to Victor, sending him a coded message asking for help. They arranged to meet in a secluded spot, a few miles away, where Victor would bring supplies and information.

Before they left, Y/N placed a hand on Max’s arm, her voice soft but strong. “No matter what happens, I’m with you. We’ll get through this.”

Max pulled her into an embrace, his voice steady but filled with determination. “I’ll keep you safe. No matter what.”

They drove through the night, finally arriving at a remote gas station where Victor was waiting. He stood near his car, a heavy duffel bag by his feet, watching the road with caution.

Max and Y/N got out of the car, approaching him. Victor gave them a nod. “Looks like you two could use some supplies”and a new plan.”

Max ran a hand through his hair, exhausted but grateful. “You have no idea. My father he’s found us. He’s not going to let us go so easily.”

Victor handed Max the duffel bag, filled with burner phones, fake IDs, cash, and a list of contacts who could help them along the way. “This should buy you some time. But you need to move fast.”

Y/N thanked Victor, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. “You’re risking a lot to help us. We won’t forget this.”

Victor gave her a small smile. “Max was there for me when I needed it. Just consider this payback.”

Before they left, Victor placed a hand on Max’s shoulder. “One more thing ”you need to think about how far you’re willing to go. Jos isn’t going to stop. You might have to consider taking him out.”

Max’s expression darkened. He had known, deep down, that his father would never let him go. But hearing it out loud made it real.

“I understand,” he said quietly. “Thank you, Victor.”

Victor nodded, watching as Max and Y/N got back into their car, their new identities hidden in the duffel bag. As they drove off, Max couldn’t shake Victor’s words. The idea of facing his father felt impossible, but he knew that eventually, they’d have no other choice.

For weeks, Max and Y/N kept moving, using new names in each town, keeping to small motels and out-of-the-way diners. They became adept at disappearing, slipping into the background of each new place. But as careful as they were, Jos’ men kept finding them, each encounter a reminder that they were never truly safe.

Finally, they received a message from Victor. “He’s coming for you himself, Max. It’s time to end this.”

Max looked at Y/N, his heart heavy but resolved. “It’s him or us. I can’t keep running from him. We’ll make our stand here.”

Y/N placed her hand over his, her eyes fierce. “Then let’s end this together.”

In a darkened alleyway that night, Max and Y/N waited. They heard the footsteps, the unmistakable sound of Jos’ voice. This was the final confrontation the moment when Max would either free himself or be bound to his past forever.

As Jos appeared, flanked by his men, Max stepped forward, his gaze unwavering. “It’s over, Dad. You can’t control me anymore.”

Jos’ expression was a mix of anger and something almost like disappointment. “You were always my successor, Max. But you betrayed me. And for what? A woman?”

Max shook his head. “For freedom. For love. For a life that you never gave me.”

In a swift movement, the fight began. Max and Y/N fought with everything they had, each strike a testament to their will to survive. And as dawn broke, they stood victorious, finally free from Jos’ grip.

In the end, Max and Y/N left the city, driving toward a new horizon. They had endured more than most could imagine, but they had come out of it stronger, bound by trust and love.

As they drove into the distance, Y/N leaned over, resting her head on Max’s shoulder. “It’s finally over.”

Max took her hand, a quiet smile crossing his face. “Yeah. We’re finally free.”

They didn’t know what the future held, but they knew one thing: they would face it together, no longer haunted by the past.

One year later 

In a small, sunny coastal town far from the chaos of their past, Max and Y/N settled into a new life together. They’d both embraced the quiet simplicity of it—the kind of life neither of them thought they’d ever have.

Max and Y/N married in a small, private ceremony, just a handful of close friends gathered to celebrate. There were no grand gestures, no lavish displays”just the two of them, standing hand in hand, promising to share a life of peace and devotion. For Max, it was the ultimate vow of freedom, a declaration that he was no longer bound by his family’s legacy.

Over time, they built their own family. They had two children, a boy and a girl, who became the center of their world. Max was a devoted father, often surprising Y/N with how patient and tender he was with their children. Watching him with them, she knew he’d truly left his past behind, pouring his energy into being the father he’d never had.

To make a living, Max chose a career that allowed him to use his skills for good. He became a mechanic, running a small garage where he fixed cars and occasionally helped neighbors with any odd jobs. He found he enjoyed the work”it was honest, straightforward, and gave him a sense of satisfaction he’d never known before.

Max had always been good with his hands, and he took pride in running his business ethically, treating each customer with respect. In a way, his garage became a place where people came not only to fix their cars but to catch up with him and Y/N, who would often stop by with their kids. Their life was simple, grounded, and filled with small joys.

There were still moments when the shadows of their past would resurface”an unexpected noise, a stranger’s lingering look. But Max and Y/N had learned to hold each other close during those times, grounding each other with gentle reminders of the life they’d built.

Their children grew up knowing nothing of the dangers their parents had faced. Max and Y/N wanted it that way; they wanted their kids to live without fear, surrounded by love and stability. They spent weekends by the shore, watching their children play in the sand, building castles and laughing freely.

In the quiet of those moments, Max would look at Y/N and feel a deep gratitude for the life they’d created together. It was a life free from the violence and tension that had once defined him, and he knew he had her to thank for giving him the courage to embrace it.

As the years passed, Max and Y/N continued to build their lives in the small town, becoming a beloved part of the community. They hosted neighborhood gatherings, watched their children grow, and celebrated every milestone, no matter how small.

For Max, this life wasn’t just a new beginning”it was redemption. He’d found a purpose beyond survival, a love that had healed his old wounds. And in the warmth of his family, he had finally found peace.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Being a Bad Dad (Pedro, Eugene, and Darla Edition)

By the way in this AU Mary is still his twin, but let’s say he knows the Vázquez for whatever reason. Also, in case it wasn’t obvious all of the Marvels besides Billy look like kids. Like actual kids. 10 to 14 depending on how old they are actually. Anyways, this is just a little short add-on to the original post. Nothing more. Also this has a little bit of Mexican Billy, courtesy of someone’s headcanon I saw and a post of Jason Todd babysitting the other Batkids.

*The League is throwing a party and Billy brings Darla and Eugene along. Marvel is talking to Batman while Darla is running around with Impulse. Also Eugene is talking tech with Tim!Robin*

Marvel: “And so yeah—” *looks to a table before doing a double take* “One sec.” *Looks around for Darla*

Darla: *stopped at the snack table for some juice*

Marvel: *Does that thing my mom does to get my attention: snaps fingers and beckons with her pointer with an expression that leaves me wondering if I’m going to get my ass beat*

Darla: *pauses mid juice sip and zips over*

Marvel: *leans down to whisper in her ear* “Toma esa cosa de la mesa.” *points el adorno on the snack table*

Darla: “Wha?” *looks over to the table* “The centerpiece? You can’t take that—”

Marvel: “Cállate!” *takes two fingers and pinches her mouth close* “No me importa. Tú lo vas a tomar. Vete.” *tries to shoo her away and takes his fingers off her mouth.*

Darla: “But that’s wrong!”

Marvel: “Vete.” *says while gritting teeth* “O corto el pelo de todas tus Barbies.”

Darla: *scandalized gasp*

Marvel: “Ah, y dáselo a tu hermano cuando termines. Gracias.” *shooes her off again*

Darla: *has distraught expression as she zips over and grabs it and runs off to Eugene to hand it to him with a guilty look before running back over to run around with Impulse again*

Eugene: *promptly throws it over his shoulder into his pocket dimension*

Robin!Tim: “Was that one of the centerpieces?”

Eugene: “Yeah?”

Robin!Tim: “Did you guys just steal it?”

Eugene: “Also yes.” *nods head*

Robin!Tim: “Why…? Also where did it go?” *rounds Eugene to look for it*

Eugene: “I threw it in my pocket dimension.”

Robin!Tim: “How does that work?”

*The two then forget about that whole thing and then start talking about magic, then go back to tech, then start talking about combining magic and tech*

*Back with Bruce and Billy…*

Batman: “Why did you just go send that child to go steal one of my centerpieces that I paid for with my money in my own Watchtower?”

Marvel: “You understood that- actually wait. You’re Batman. Of course you understood that.”

Batman: “Hn.” (Batman language for: Just tell me already)

Marvel: “Alright, alright.” *claps hand on Bruce’s shoulder* “Look, we needed it more than you ever will, okay?” (They really don’t)

Batman: “Elaborate on that.”

Marvel: “See, I can’t. So instead I’m just gonna go raid the snack table.” *juts a thumb towards the snack table* “See ya, Bats!” *waves and walks off to the snack table*

Batman: *Bat-glares at him as he leaves*

or

*The Justice League are fighting a super strong villain. Currently, Flash and Billy are hiding behind a rock while the villain’s goons are shooting at them. Billy also forgot to mention to Flash that he brought along Pedro*

Flash: “Okay, so here’s the plan- Dude, why is that little kid here?” *points to Pedro*

Marvel: “Huh, you mean him?” *also points to Pedro*

Flash: “Who else, man?” *gives Billy a look* “Bud, in case you can’t tell, this place is super dangerous. Like, Supes got knocked out for a moment type of dangerous! So why’s he still here? You should’ve sent him away!”

Marvel: “What? Pshhhh… He’ll be fine, Flash. Trust me.” *pats Pedro’s head* “Anyways, buddy, say hi to Flash.”

Pedro: *gives a little wave*

Marvel: *stage whispers this to Flash* “He’s a little shy. Me and the others are trying to get him to interact with people more.”

Flash: *notes how Marvel is a little too carefree about this. He later forgets about that when Pedro actually helps quite a bit in the fight. He also notes how this is one of the only instances he’s seen of Marvel acting positively towards his “kids”*

Translations:

Toma esa cosa de la mesa = Take that thing from the table

el adorno = The ornament/the decoration/in this case the centerpiece

Cállate = Be quiet

Vete = Go away/Go

O corto el pelo de todas tus Barbies = Or I cut the hair of all your Barbies

Ah, y dáselo a tu hermano cuando termines. Gracias = Oh, and give it to your brother when you’re done. Thanks.