14. Chole
Aiden guided Maximilian down the long corridor toward the living room.
The farther they walked, the more the heavy silence of his father's room faded—
replaced by faint voices and clattering sounds.
Chloe was here.
Maximilian could already tell.
The girl could not stay quiet even in her sleep.
As they reached the living room, Aiden whispered,
"Prepare yourself. She's been waiting an hour. She's… unstable."
Maximilian raised an eyebrow.
"In what way?"
"Um… emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually—"
Before Aiden could finish, a voice exploded:
"MAXIIIIIIIII!"
A blur of pastel pink, bouncing curls, and oversized sweater launched like a missile—
And collided straight into Maximilian's chest.
"MAXIMILIAN BROOKS!! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME YOU'RE BACK?! DO YOU NOT LOVE ME ANYMORE?! DID YOU REPLACE ME?! DID—"
Maximilian, who terrified tycoons and presidents,
stood stiff as stone
while Chloe wrapped herself around his waist like a clingy koala.
Aiden sighed.
"She's been like this for an hour. Maybe two."
Maximilian looked down at the girl clinging to him.
Twenty-two.
Dramatic.
Emotional.
Loud.
A walking chaos.
But she was family.
The last bright piece of it.
Slowly, he placed his hand on top of her head and gently patted her.
"Chloe," he said softly.
"You're going to crush my ribs."
She gasped and immediately jumped back—
hands on her cheeks.
"Oh my gosh, are you in pain?! Did I hurt you?! Should I call an ambulance?! Should I—"
"Chloe," he said again.
She froze.
He looked into her eyes—gentle, reassuring.
"I'm fine."
Chloe's lips trembled, and she threw her arms around him again, this time slower, more fragile.
"You're lying… I can tell… you look sad."
Maximilian's chest tightened.
She always saw through him.
Always.
He wrapped one steady hand around her back, comforting her the way his father used to comfort him.
"I'm alright, Chloe. I promise."
Behind him, Aiden whispered,
"He's trying. So don't overwhelm him."
Chloe sniffled dramatically, wiping her face with the sleeves of her sweater.
"I'm not overwhelming… I'm expressive!"
"You're loud," Aiden corrected.
"You're both annoying," Maximilian said.
but there was warmth in his voice.
Chloe beamed.(*^^*)
Aiden folded his arms.
"You know, Max, the whole mansion heard her screaming your name."
Chloe smacked his arm.
"That's because he didn't respond! I was worried! What if he was kidnapped? What if he fainted? What if he joined a cult—"
"Chloe," Maximilian deadpanned.
"Why would I join a cult?"
She put her hands on her hips seriously.
"I don't know! Rich people join weird things all the time!"
Maximilian stared at her.
Aiden whispered,
"She's been watching documentaries."
Maximilian sighed.
Of course she had.
Chloe stepped close again, her eyes softening.
"Max… you know you can talk to us, right?
Whatever happened today… you don't have to hold it alone."
Aiden stood beside her, nodding supportively.
Uncle and Aunt watched quietly from the couch, letting the children have their moment.
Maximilian looked at all of them…
and for the first time since he left the hospital,
the ache inside him eased—not gone, but gentler.
He placed a hand on Chloe's cheek, the way his mother used to do to him.
"I know," he said quietly.
"And I'm grateful."
Chloe smiled through a tear, her voice soft:
"Good. Because no matter how scary you are to the world…
to us, you're just Max."
Aiden smirked.
"Yeah. Our emotionally constipated big brother."
Maximilian glared.
Chloe burst into laughter.
And for a brief, fragile moment—
the mansion felt warm again.
---