Maximilian's phone slipped from his fingers.
"B-Blackwood?" he echoed, clearing his throat. The name dried his mouth instantly.
He had known this moment would come. Had rehearsed it in his head, prepared himself for it… and yet, when it arrived, it struck with the precision of a blade.
"Heard of him," he said after a beat, forcing composure into his voice. "Never met him."
Catherine pressed her lips together.
Of course, he would lie.
There was something buried beneath this… something too deliberate, too careful. Men did not hide themselves for years without reason. And Maximilian, if she trusted her instincts, looked… afraid.
"Oh?" she replied lightly, turning toward the window.
The view was beautiful. His office overlooked the garden, and beyond it, the park stretched into a spill of trees and winding paths. Birds chirped in sharp, cheerful notes. Somewhere farther off, ducks quacked near the pond. Squirrels darted about, busy with preparations for winter.
