A Criminal Kiss [Max Verstappen]

chapter forty two

I raised an eyebrow, inspecting the toast. "You forgot the butter."

He groaned, grabbing the small jar of butter from the counter. "I don't have any your Grace."

I laughed, going to nudge his shoulder playfully. "You're lucky you're charming."

"Am I?" he asked, leaning against the counter and watching me with a smirk. "That's good to know."

The sound of a knock at the door interrupted our banter, and Max straightened, his expression turning curious.

"Well who could that be?" I teased.

"Let's go see," he said, moving to answer it.

When he opened the door, Thomas stood there, his small face lit up with excitement. Daniel stood behind him, looking a little sleep-deprived but amused nonetheless.

"Good morning!" Thomas chirped, pushing past Max to enter the house. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course I did," Max said, laughing as he ruffled Thomas's hair. "But I thought you were staying with Daniel."

"I was," Thomas said, climbing onto a chair at the table and eyeing the toast. "But he said it was time to come home. Plus, I wanted to see Ann!"

I grinned, waving at him. "Good morning, Thomas."

"Good morning," he replied cheerfully, already reaching for a slice of toast.

Daniel stepped inside, shaking his head fondly. "I hope you two enjoyed your night. This one was a handful."

"Hey!" Thomas protested, his mouth full of toast.

Max laughed, clapping Daniel on the back. "Thanks for taking him. I owe you."

"You owe me more than you know," Daniel said, a teasing glint in his eye.

As the morning went on, the house filled with the sounds of laughter and conversation. Thomas chattered about his adventures with Daniel, while Max and I exchanged fond glances across the table.

-

Later that evening, the small flat was once again alive with the sound of chatter and laughter, though this time it was far more subdued than the lively bar from the night before. Clara had come to visit—how she had convinced Father to let her come I truly do not know, but I guess he was not relaxed about the whole situation now.

She had told me that Father misses me, as I had been out of the house for at least two days—I would have to go home to get some new clothes and food soon.

The group gathered in the small living room. Daniel, Charles, Pierre, Carlos, Max, and I were crammed onto the mismatched furniture, while Clara sat elegantly in the corner, content to observe. The atmosphere was light, everyone still riding the high from the previous night's festivities.

"Another round of cards?" Pierre suggested, shuffling the worn deck with a flourish.

"No thanks," Charles said, shaking his head. "I've already lost enough pride for one evening."

"Pride?" Carlos echoed, grinning. "I didn't realise you had any left to lose."

Laughter rippled through the room, and even Charles couldn't help but chuckle.

Max leaned closer to me, his hand brushing against mine as he whispered, "How long do you think this peace will last before Pierre starts another argument?"

"Five minutes, tops," I replied, smirking.

"Three," Max countered, and we both laughed softly.

As the banter continued, Max suddenly cleared his throat, catching Daniel's attention. "Hey, Daniel."