51. Circe
MAXIMILIAN — THE CALL HE DIDN'T WANT
Peace lasted exactly six minutes after Chloe and Aiden left.
Just when Maximilian leaned back to finally breathe, his phone lit up on the desk with a name that instantly drained whatever calm he had regained:
CIRCE CALLING…
Maximilian stared at the screen like it insulted him personally.
Circe.
Daughter of President David — one of the minor sponsored groups under his empire.
A woman who treated the world like her personal vanity mirror.
And treated him…
like a prize she was entitled to.
He answered the call only out of old loyalty — because she was David's daughter, and David had been Jonathan Brooks' close friend.
Her voice came through immediately, dripping with syrupy sweetness and forced femininity.
"Maxiiimilian~"
She practically purred his name.
His jaw tightened.
"Circe."
"Oh my, you sound so cold! I haven't even told you the good news yet."
Max leaned back, expression dead.
"Then say it."
"I'm coming back from Paris tomorrow morning!" she announced dramatically.
"As in— landing at 10:40 AM. Isn't that exciting?"
He already sensed where this was going.
Circe never called without a motive.
She continued, voice becoming softer, sweeter, calculated:
"And since you're always so thoughtful…
I thought maybe… just maybe…"
She giggled.
"You could come pick me up? I'll be so tired and jet-lagged… I really need someone reliable… someone strong… someone like you."
Maximilian closed his eyes for a second.
He wanted to say no.
No, he didn't want to drive across the city at dawn.
No, he didn't want to deal with her desperate attempts at flirting.
No, he didn't want her imagining fantasies of being Mrs. Brooks — which she always, always hinted at.
But she was President David's daughter.
And President David was the only man his father had ever trusted.
So Maximilian exhaled slowly.
"…Fine. I'll be there."
Circe released a squeal that pierced his soul.
"Kyaa! I knew it! You're always so good to me, Maximilian~
I swear, sometimes you're so caring it feels like you're already my husb—"
"Circe."
One word. Sharp.
She shut up instantly.
He wasn't playing that game.
Her voice became small and delicate.
"Um… I meant… thank you. Really."
Max nodded once even though she couldn't see.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
"Aww, you're already missing me?" she teased.
"No."
He hung up.
---
AFTER THE CALL
Maximilian dropped the phone on the desk and massaged his temples.
First Aiden.
Then Chloe.
Now Circe.
At this point, he wasn't sure if his whisky was strong enough for the day.
What annoyed him most wasn't Circe's sweet talk or her obsession.
It was the falseness of it.
The pretend softness.
The entitled air of a girl who had been handed everything and still wanted more.
People like her made him tired.
But still…
he kept the promise for his father's sake.
He poured another glass of whisky.
Tomorrow morning would be another exhausting start.
But something else tugged at him — a faint, instinctive sensation he couldn't explain.
Far away, in Hollowmist City…
Marcelline's presence brushed against the world like a silent storm.
Maximilian paused, looking at the window, a strange weight settling in his chest.
He didn't know why.
But something big was coming.
And it wouldn't involve Circe.
---