A Criminal Kiss [Max Verstappen]

chapter seven

I still can't quite grasp how I managed to get away with it.

Slipping out into the night the way I did, after that rather intense exchange with Max. The bar had been buzzing with energy, a heady mix of laughter, music, and the warmth of camaraderie. It was the kind of freedom I had never known — reckless, uninhibited, and thrilling. But, just as Max had pointed out, I didn't belong there. It was all too much, and yet not enough at the same time.

So, after our brief and somewhat unsettling conversation, I decided to leave. The warmth of the bar, much to Daniel's dismay, quickly faded behind me as I stepped into the cold night air, the crisp chill biting at my skin. The house felt so far away, and yet so close.

I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders, wrapping myself in its thin comfort as I made my way back through the darkened streets. The world around me felt almost foreign — like I had stepped into a place where I didn't belong, a world where I didn't fit.

Pierre had offered to accompany me, of course, but I had refused. It wasn't right. He was off-duty, enjoying his evening with friends, and besides, why make him walk me back? The others at the table, while still far from my world, had been kind and amusing. All except Max, that is.

There was something about his presence — the way he'd seen straight through me, judged me, mocked me. The harshness of his words still lingered, and I couldn't shake the feeling that his scrutiny went beyond my actions and into something much deeper. I couldn't understand why, but his words haunted me.

However, Father had insisted on making this appearance at the charity school today. It was all part of his plan to keep up appearances, to remind the villagers of the Cook family's generosity and social standing. I knew the drill—attend a few events, shake some hands, smile graciously, and let the gossiping tongues work their magic. He'd even gone so far as to mention that I should take particular note of any 'worthy young men' in attendance. As if my future could be decided by a charity event and a handful of well-dressed suitors.

But what I couldn't quite grasp was why he needed me there at all. My place, in his eyes, was becoming clearer every day: stand quietly beside him, smile when necessary, and be a figurehead for the family's reputation.

As we made our way toward the school, Clara had tried to speak to me several times, but I wasn't interested. She seemed almost apologetic, but I wasn't ready to forgive her, not yet. Not after everything. So, I ignored her, keeping my gaze fixed ahead as if she weren't even there.

My father was a man of few words, and none of them were comforting. I had both learned to keep our distance from him, speaking only when necessary.

After all, I'm surprised he even let me leave the estate. After what he told me, that I wouldn't leave until I had a Duke by my side. How ridiculous.

The school appeared ahead, modest and nestled between two rows of cottages, its small garden overflowing with children's laughter. They were all eagerly waiting for our arrival.

I paused near a large oak tree at the edge of the schoolyard, watching with curiosity. The children were running around, some chasing each other, others sitting in the grass, their voices full of joy and energy. But what caught my attention most was Max.

He stood in the center of it all, his posture commanding, yet somehow gentler than I had expected. His hands moved as he spoke to the children, directing them with authority but without harshness. One boy, a little too hesitant to join the others, had his attention captured by Max, who crouched down to speak with him. Whatever he said seemed to work, as the boy's frown turned into a small, shy smile, and he ran off to join the others.