Wish you were mine

74. Blood before Betrayal

PENELOPE

The room was drowning in silence.

Not the peaceful kind.

The dangerous kind.

The kind of silence that wrapped around your throat slowly, tightening with every passing second until breathing itself felt like a burden.

Tension lingered heavily in the air-thick enough to cut open with a knife.

I sat stiffly on Madeline's couch, my fingers curled tightly around the edge of my dress as my eyes drifted toward Maxton.

He sat on the opposite sofa with the girl-Anahira-carefully seated in his lap like something fragile he was terrified to break.

The same man I had judged barely an hour ago now looked completely different.

His expensive black overcoat had been discarded somewhere carelessly, sleeves rolled up, jaw tense as he gently pressed an ice pack against her swollen ankle.

Careful.
Patient.
Protective.

Like her pain physically hurt him too.

She sniffled softly, tears still clinging to her lashes as her trembling fingers stroked Cupcake's white fur absentmindedly. The cat sat quietly in her lap, unusually calm for once, as if even she sensed the emotional storm suffocating the room.

Honestly, Cupcake was doing a better job comforting everyone than the humans present here.

The moment Maxton saw her injured in that alley, something inside him had snapped.
He hadn't even asked questions.

Hadn't yelled.

Hadn't hesitated.

One second he was standing there like a man carved from danger, and the next he had scooped her into his arms like she was the most precious thing in his world.

He was ready to take her straight to the hospital.
But she had panicked the moment he mentioned it.

Crying.
Begging.
Terrified.

So somehow, against all logic and sanity, we ended up here.

At Madeline's apartment.

The safest and nearest option.

And now her once cozy living room felt unbearably small with this many powerful personalities trapped inside it.

Or maybe it wasn't the people.

Maybe it was the secrets sitting between us.
Madeline sat beside me clutching my hand tightly, her nervous energy practically vibrating into my skin. I could tell she was scared.
Honestly?

So was I.

Across from us sat Sean and Maxton.

Two men dressed in black.

Two men powerful enough to destroy lives effortlessly.

And somehow the room still revolved around them even in silence.

Sean leaned back calmly against the sofa, one ankle resting over his knee, fingers tapping lazily against the armrest. Calm. Composed. Unreadable.

That calmness was terrifying.

Because Sean Anderson only became this quiet when he was thinking too much.

And whenever Sean thought too much-
someone suffered.

Then there was Sophie.

My beloved sister.

Sitting directly across from me.