56.out of respect
The Bugatti La Voiture Noire rolled to a stop in front of Circe's extravagant, overly bright villa.
Circe's eyes gleamed.
Maximilian's soul left his body.
She immediately grabbed his arm.
"Max~ walk me to the door," she said softly, faking shyness.
He didn't want to.
He really didn't want to.
But then—
President David stepped outside the villa, smiling warmly.
And Maximilian…
helplessly allowed Circe to cling to him.
Not because he wanted it.
Not because he cared.
Not because he enjoyed her touch.
But because this was David's daughter.
David — his father's closest friend.
The man who stood beside his father's coffin when Maximilian was just a broken, silent child.
So Maximilian let Circe cling.
And that single moment of forced kindness completely destroyed his mood.
---
PRESIDENT DAVID'S ARRIVAL
"Maximilian," David greeted warmly.
"It's good to see you, son."
Max gave a small respectful nod.
"President David."
Circe beamed proudly, squeezing Max's arm like a trophy.
Kyron watched, trying not to visibly gag.
President David's eyes softened at the sight.
"You two look… closer than before."
Circe practically glowed.
Max stood stiffly, every muscle tense, like a statue being tortured.
Circe responded instantly:
"Yes, Daddy~ Max takes such good care of me. He even held my hand on the way—"
Kyron coughed so violently it was almost dramatic whiplash.
Maximilian's expression didn't change, but a single nerve twitched near his jaw.
President David laughed kindly.
"Well, Maximilian has always been dependable."
Circe leaned her head slightly on Max's shoulder.
And Maximilian…
He didn't push her away.
He couldn't.
Not without disrespecting David.
That helplessness burned him from the inside.
For someone like him—
someone who lived with dignity, strict boundaries, emotional discipline—
allowing anyone this close felt like betrayal.
A betrayal of himself.
A betrayal of his father.
A betrayal of the line he never wanted to cross.
And yet…
Here he was.
Letting Circe cling to him like he belonged to her.
Guilt twisted inside him.
Anger too.
A cold, hollow ache that reminded him why he hated love…
hate beauty…
hated anything that made a person weak.
He saw his mother's broken face in his mind.
Her hollow eyes.
Her trembling hands.
Her whispers to the empty air where his father used to stand.
Love destroyed her.
Love turned a strong woman into a fragile corpse.
Love made his home a graveyard.
And now he was standing here—
allowing a woman to cling to him—
It disgusted him.
Not because of her, but because of him.
Kyron leaned in, whispering so only Max could hear:
"Sir… she is… practically glued to your arm."
Max:
"Don't remind me."
Kyron smirked.
"It's touching, really. You look like a man attending his own funeral."
Circe smiled brightly at them, not understanding anything.
President David seemed pleased.
Kyron almost burst into laughter.
"My Daddy loves Max so much," she giggled, hugging Max's arm tighter,
"Sometimes I feel like fate is tying us together."
Max closed his eyes briefly.
He felt himself die a little inside.
Helpless.
Cornered.
Bound by respect to a man he actually honored.
Kyron whispered again:
"Sir… you're pale. Blink twice if you want me to fake a sudden emergency."
Max didn't blink.
Kyron sighed dramatically.
Max stepped slightly forward, loosening Circe's grip without being rude.
"President David," he said, polite but distant,
"I should return. There are urgent matters waiting at the company."
David nodded understandingly.
"Of course. Thank you for bringing her safely."
Circe pouted.
"Max~ Won't you stay for tea? Just a little? For me?"
Max didn't look at her.
"No."
One word.
Calm.
Cold.
Absolute.
Circe froze in disbelief.
Kyron bowed politely.
"My lady, Sir truly has a tight schedule. Perhaps another day— in the far, far, FAR future."
Circe glared at him.
Kyron smiled innocently.
---
BACK IN THE CAR — MAX'S EMOTIONS HIT HARD
The moment the car doors closed, Maximilian exhaled.
Not loudly.
Not angrily.
Just a quiet breath leaking out of someone who had reached his limit.
Kyron turned to him slowly.
"Sir."
Max didn't respond.
Kyron continued:
"You feel bad."
"I don't."
But the tremor in his voice betrayed him.
Kyron's voice softened—rare, but real.
"It's not your fault. You respected President David. That's all."
Max said nothing.
He stared straight ahead, eyes dark, jaw tight, mind miles away.
He hated feeling trapped.
He hated being touched.
He hated being compared to the broken-hearted man his mother had become.
---