CHAPTER 003

Withered Petals

Max’s Point of View

Business was better than ever. My rivals were all stooped or broke. My name was sufficient to shut rooms and blush men. But never was perfection to fill the hollow ache I had within.

I liked seeing the enemies fall one at a time, and I experienced the burden of fear before the attack. I wanted more than success. Revenge.

I had waited years for this. There were debts that were not paid, and I had learned to enjoy the procrastination. Mia had stormed into my office with her little arms crossed and her face stormy.

Nevertheless, the satisfaction was bland nowadays. I had been thinking of something. I lay back, pulled her onto my knees, and rubbed her matted hair."Daddy, you are never at home," she said. Her small voice broke as though she had been trying not to cry.

“I need someone who will stay. ”I was examining her with my hands in my pockets, and my face was unreadable. "You have the maids, honey," I said. “They are here all the time.

”She raised her head and stared at me with the eyes of her mother. Stubborn. Sharp. "No, it is not the same," she said. “The house needs a mummy.”

Her lines were sharper than the blade of a competitor. Mia was the one I would never refuse. She was what had not yet made me burn the world down. So should she desire a mother, I would give her one. Not out of love. Not out of need. But since my daughter requested it. I did not care for romance. I did not believe in softness.

I just needed a woman who would follow, be by my side when I needed it, and provide my daughter with the image of family that she desired. I had decided who that woman was going to be. Ana.

The broken wife of Chase Grayson. She was perfect for the role. Not that she was strong, but that she was weak.

A broken woman was more malleable. Easier to bend. And I would like to make her what I wanted. Now she stood in my presence.

Her clothes were rags, her hair was dishevelled, and her skin was pale in the evening light. She looked fragile. My daughter looked back once, her little brow drawn up in suspicion, and disappeared round the corner. Her eyes said it all—they were haunted, hollow, as though she had been dragged through fire. I liked it. Ryan was near and would have obeyed the word.

“Mia,” I said calmly, “go inside. ”Ryan grabbed her hand and walked away. She looked at me with horror and confusion, her lips parting as though she had something to say but did not know how. I turned back to Ana.

A maid came into the room, bowed her head, and clasped her hands. At last her voice, trembling and low, came.“ What is going on? Why am I here?” I allowed the silence to lengthen and watched her fidgeting under my eyes.

Then I replied, flat and sharp.“ Go wash up, Ana. You look dirty.” Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened a little, and then she pulled herself together, fire glittering behind her weariness. "Well," she said, "had I not been hauled here without any prior notice, perhaps I could have had time to take a bubble bath and do my makeup. "My mouth was tugged at by a smile.

She had spirit. Good. I would enjoy breaking it. I snapped my fingers. In two strides I crossed the distance between us. Carry her to the guest suite, I said. “Get her cleaned up. Properly.

”The lips of Ana were tight. Her teeth set, and she looked at me. I am not leaving until somebody tells me why I am here.

The defiance in her tone lit something dangerous inside me. Her eyes were opened, and she looked at me. My hand reached out and grabbed her by the throat. Not so hard as to break, but so as to remind her who was in charge. Her body went rigid. Her breathing was shallow, and fear and rage mingled in it. I bent forward and spoke in a low, monotonous voice. I hung the words between us, like stone.

“Rule one, Ana. I do not repeat myself.” It would make the game more gratifying. She did not look away. Her lips shook, her chest went up and down, yet her eyes looked into mine.

Yes, there was fragility in her. But there was fire too. Interesting. After a beat, I released her. She fell back, her hand going up to rub her throat, yet she continued to stare at me.

Even her fear did not stop pride flickering within her. Ana was touched by the maid, Ana. Ana stared back and forth between the maid and me. “This way, ma’am,” she whispered.

I would tear her ego, bit by bit. She seemed to be going to resist again for a moment. Something changed in her face. She sighed and gave herself to be led away. Her spine was stiff, and her head was raised, as though she was clinging to the last bit of dignity she possessed. I saw her ascending the stairs.

My lips smiled thinly. She believed that she could oppose me. She thought she could hold on. But soon she would learn.

All who came into my world were taught. Ana was mine now. I turned, and my hands went back to my pockets, and my mind was already working out the moves. I would cut obedience into her bones.

And at last she would be mine altogether. But a thought struck me, keen and quick. Yes. This was only the beginning. But an idea came to my mind, fast and sharp.

That fire in her eyes…Would it be more convenient to trample it, or would it scald me?