The room felt colder than before.
Anna stood at the center of Maverick's private office, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if she were trying to hold herself together.
The air between them was heavy.
Not with danger this time—
But with truth.
Maverick stood a few steps away, watching her carefully. For once, he didn't look like the feared man everyone knew.
He just looked… human.
And that somehow made this harder.
"You said you wanted to talk," he said quietly.
Anna nodded slowly.
Her heart was racing.
But she didn't come here to hesitate.
She came for answers.
"Why do you hate Vincent?"
The question came out suddenly.
Sharp.
Direct.
Maverick's expression shifted slightly.
He hadn't expected that.
Out of everything she could have asked—
That was her first question.
"Is that what you think this is?" he asked calmly.
Anna frowned.
"Isn't it?"
Maverick exhaled slowly.
"It's not that simple."
Anna shook her head.
"It never is with you people," she muttered.
His eyes flickered slightly at that.
But he let it pass.
"Sit," he said, gesturing toward the chair.
"I'd rather stand."
Maverick studied her for a moment.
Then nodded.
"Alright."
He walked toward the window, his hands slipping into his pockets as he stared out at the city.
For a moment, he said nothing.
And Anna almost thought he wouldn't answer.
Then—
"Vincent's father," he began, his voice low, "was a powerful man."
Anna's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Like you?"
Maverick gave a faint, humorless smile.
"More or less."
He turned slightly, his gaze distant.
"We weren't always enemies."
That made Anna pause.
"What?"
Maverick nodded slowly.
"There was a time… when we worked together."
Anna blinked.
That was the last thing she expected.
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
His voice was firm.
Certain.
"We built things together," he continued. "Territory. Influence. Power."
Anna's chest tightened.
It sounded less like a partnership…
And more like a dangerous empire.
"What happened?" she asked quietly.
Maverick's expression darkened.
"He betrayed me."
The words fell heavy.
Sharp.
Final.
Anna swallowed.
"How?"
Maverick turned fully to face her now.
"There was a deal," he said. "A big one. One that would have secured everything."
He paused.
His jaw tightening slightly.
"But he made a different arrangement behind my back."
Anna frowned.
"With who?"
"Another gang."
Her heart skipped.
"And you didn't know?"
Maverick let out a short, bitter laugh.
"Not until it was too late."
He walked closer now, his voice colder.
"The night of the deal, everything went wrong."
Anna felt a chill run down her spine.
"What do you mean?"
"It was a setup," he said. "But not for them."
His eyes darkened.
"For me."
Anna's breath caught.
"What?"
"I walked into an ambush," Maverick continued. "Guns everywhere. Men ready to take me out."
Anna shook her head slowly.
"And Vincent's father…?"
"He wasn't there."
Silence.
That alone said everything.
Anna's voice came out softer now.
"So you think he set you up?"
"I know he did."
The certainty in his voice made her chest tighten.
"But he died," she said quickly. "Vincent told me—his father was killed."
Maverick nodded.
"He was."
Anna frowned.
"Then how does that make sense?"
Maverick's expression turned grim.
"Because betrayal doesn't always go as planned."
He turned away briefly, his voice quieter now.
"The same gang he made a deal with…" he said, "they turned on him."
Anna's eyes widened slightly.
"They killed him?"
Maverick nodded once.
"Before I could."
Silence filled the room again.
Thick.
Heavy.
Anna took a slow step forward.
"So… you didn't kill Vincent's father?"
Maverick's gaze snapped back to her.
"No."
The answer came instantly.
Without hesitation.
Anna stared at him.
Trying to read him.
Trying to understand.
"But Vincent thinks you did," she said.
Maverick's jaw tightened.
"Yes."
"And you never told him the truth?"
A pause.
Then—
"He wouldn't believe me."
Anna frowned.
"You don't know that."
"I do."
His voice was firm.
"Because I wouldn't have believed it either."
That made her pause.
Because for the first time—
She understood something.
Not fully.
But enough.
"So that's it?" she asked quietly. "That's why you've been trying to kill each other all these years?"
Maverick's expression hardened slightly.
"It's not just about the past anymore."
Anna's chest tightened.
"Then what is it about?"
"Power," he said simply. "Control. Survival."
She shook her head.
"That's not a reason. That's an excuse."
Maverick didn't respond immediately.
Because part of him knew—
She wasn't wrong.
Anna stepped closer now, her voice filled with emotion.
"You're both stuck in something that started before I was even born," she said. "And now it's affecting everything."
Her voice cracked slightly.
"It's affecting me."
That—
That hit him.
Harder than anything else she had said.
Maverick looked at her.
Really looked at her.
Not as a stranger.
Not as a possibility.
But as his daughter.
"I never wanted you involved in this," he said quietly.
Anna let out a small, bitter laugh.
"Well, I am."
Silence.
She took a deep breath.
Then asked the question that had been sitting in her chest since she arrived.
"If you knew all this…" she said slowly,
"Why didn't you try to fix it?"
Maverick frowned slightly.
"What do you mean?"
"With Vincent," she said. "If you didn't kill his father… why not tell him? Why not end this?"
Maverick's expression darkened.
"Because some things can't be undone."
Anna shook her head.
"That's not true."
"It is in our world."
Her eyes flashed with frustration.
"Then maybe your world is the problem!"
The words hung in the air.
Sharp.
Unfiltered.
Honest.
Maverick didn't react immediately.
But something in his expression shifted.
Because for the first time—
Someone wasn't afraid to say it to his face.
Anna's voice softened slightly.
"I'm not asking you to change everything," she said.
"Then what are you asking?"
She hesitated.
Then—
"Try."
The word was simple.
But it carried weight.
Maverick stared at her.
For a long moment.
And in that moment—
He saw Mirabel.
Not just in her face.
But in her spirit.
Her strength.
Her stubbornness.
Her heart.
"I'll think about it," he said finally.
Anna exhaled slowly.
It wasn't a yes.
But it wasn't a no either.
She turned to leave.
But paused at the door.
Then looked back at him.
"I'm not ready to call you my father," she said.
Maverick nodded.
"I know."
"But…" she added softly,
"I don't hate you."
That—
That was enough.
For now.
As she walked out of the room, Maverick remained where he stood.
Silent.
Still.
But inside—
Something had changed.
Not completely.
Not yet.
But enough to make him question everything.
And for the first time in years—
The war between him and Vincent didn't feel inevitable.