A Criminal Kiss [Max Verstappen]

chapter thirty nine

The small flat was alive with the soft hum of quiet laughter. Thomas, sprawled across the single armchair, fought valiantly to keep his eyes open. His face bore faint traces of soot from the fire, and though his spirit was lively, the exhaustion of the past few weeks lingered in his drooping eyelids.

"You're falling asleep," I teased, holding up the book he'd begged me to read.

"No, I'm not," he insisted, though his head lolled slightly to the side. "Keep going. I want to know what happens."

Max chuckled, sitting beside me on the couch. "He always says that. Give him five more minutes, and he'll be out cold."

Thomas shot his brother a halfhearted glare, but his words were already slurred. "Will not..."

I grinned and continued reading, my voice softer now, knowing it wouldn't take long. Thomas's breathing slowed, and his head dropped forward before I'd even reached the end of the chapter.

Max stood, shaking his head fondly. "Come on, you little liar. Let's get you to bed."

Thomas grumbled incoherently as Max lifted him with ease, carrying him down the narrow hall to the small bedroom they shared. I watched them go, my chest tightening with affection.

When Max returned, the room was quiet save for the faint crackle of the fire Daniel had left burning earlier. He sat down beside me, his expression softened in the warm light.

"Thank you for staying tonight," he said, his voice low.

"I wanted to," I replied honestly. "I missed you, Max. More than I can even say."

His jaw tensed slightly, and he looked down at his hands. "Annie... are you really not engaged anymore?"

I smiled, shifting to face him fully. "No. My father broke. He didn't have much of a choice, really. I kind of just told him."

Relief flickered across Max's face, but uncertainty remained in his eyes. "And he's... okay with us?"

I let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head. "Not yet. But I'll talk to him. I'll make him see that this is what I want."

Max looked at me, his expression a mixture of hope and disbelief. "You'd really stand up to him? For me?"

"For us," I corrected, my voice firm. "Max, I've spent my entire life doing what I was told—living by rules that made everyone else happy but me. I'm done with that. I want to be happy. And you make me happy."

His gaze softened, and a small smile tugged at his lips. "You're braver than I am."

I laughed, leaning back against the couch. "I'm not so sure about that. You ran into a burning house to save me, remember?"

He shrugged, the faintest hint of a blush creeping up his neck. "You didn't give me much of a choice."

He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. The gesture was so tender that it made my chest ache.

"Annie," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

"Yes?"

He hesitated, searching my face like he was trying to memorise every detail. Then, before either of us could second-guess it, he leaned in and kissed me.

The kiss was soft and sweet, filled with everything we'd been too afraid to say. When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, and we stayed like that, our breaths mingling in the quiet.

"I missed you," he whispered.

"I missed you too," I replied, my voice thick with emotion.

Max shifted, pulling me into his arms as we curled up together on the couch. The warmth of the fire wrapped around us.

I didn't even realise we had fallen asleep until the sound of the door creaking open woke me. I blinked groggily, realising Max's arms were still around me, his steady breaths brushing against my hair.

"Well, isn't this cozy?"

I turned to see Daniel standing in the doorway, a teasing grin on his face.

"Daniel," Max mumbled, his voice muffled against my shoulder.

"Don't let me interrupt," Daniel said, setting a basket of bread and cheese on the table. "Just came to drop this off. You two look like you could use a quiet morning, anyway."

My cheeks flushed, but Max only tightened his hold on me, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips.

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The early morning air was crisp and cool as I stepped out of Daniel's flat, the streets still bathed in the soft gray light of dawn. The city was quiet, save for the distant clatter of a cart and the occasional bark of a stray dog. I pulled my shawl tighter around me, nerves fluttering in my stomach as I began the long walk home.

Max had still been asleep when I left, his hand loosely curled in mine. I hadn't wanted to leave, not after the night we'd shared—the conversations, the laughter, the sweet warmth of his arms. But I knew I had to.

Father would notice my absence if I didn't return soon, and I wasn't ready for the confrontation that would follow if he found out where I'd been.

The cobblestones beneath my feet felt uneven, and I kept my head low, avoiding eye contact with the few people beginning their morning routines. A milkmaid passed me, her cart rattling behind her, and an elderly man swept the front stoop of his shop. Neither paid me much attention, thankfully.

I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before slipping over the garden wall and back to the house.

Inside, the house was silent. Most of the staff were likely still asleep, though the faint clatter of pots in the kitchen suggested a few were already preparing breakfast. I moved quietly, my slippers making little sound on the polished floors as I ascended the back staircase.

Reaching my newly refurbished room, I eased the door open and slipped inside, letting out a shaky breath as I leaned against the wall.

I quickly changed out of my wrinkled dress, swapping it for a fresh one that didn't carry the scent of smoke and the faintest hint of Max's soap. My hair was a mess, but I smoothed it down as best I could, tying it back with a ribbon.

Just as I finished, there was a knock at the door.

"Annalise?" Clara's voice was soft but insistent.

"Come in," I said, trying to keep my tone steady.

Clara entered, her sharp eyes immediately scanning me. "You're up early."

"I couldn't sleep," I said quickly, brushing imaginary lint from my sleeve.

Clara raised an eyebrow, but she didn't press further. Instead, she crossed the room and sat on the edge of my bed, her expression unreadable.

"Father's been in a mood this morning," she said casually, though her words sent a jolt of panic through me.

"Why?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral.

She shrugged. "Something about wanting to discuss plans for the next ball. You know how he gets when things don't go exactly his way."

I forced a smile, nodding. "Of course."

Clara tilted her head, studying me. "You look different today. Happier."

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "Do I?"

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Whatever it is, I like it."

Her words warmed me, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to hope that everything might actually work out.

As Clara turned to leave, she said one last thing that caught me off guard completely, "Oh, and I hope you told Max that I said hello."

Before I could even get a word in, the door has closed.

All I could do was giddily laugh and lay back on my bed, utterly exhausted.

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