Chapter 27
“Thisispointless!”Lexiegrumbled, snapping the cap onto her purple pen with more force than necessary.She tossed it onto the stack of essays, leaning back in the plush chair and frowning toward the door.Max had left about an hour earlier, leaving her to her work, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t focus.
Her thoughts kept drifting to the image of Max in the kitchen.Is he really making everything from scratch?It was difficult to reconcile the idea of Max—the calculating, powerful man who ran the Northwest—with a domestic version of him covered in flour.
Finally, she gave up, stretching her tight muscles as she stood.Abandoning the essays, Lexie wandered down the long hallway, trying to retrace her steps to the kitchen.She got turned around once and found herself in a room filled with antique clocks ticking away in perfect harmony.It was eerie and fascinating, but she shook herself out of her distraction and kept going until she finally caught the faint sound of movement.
When she stepped into the kitchen, she froze.The sight of Max stopped her breath.
He stood at the center island, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms liberally dusted with flour.He wore a black apron, also well smeared with flour, tied snugly around his waist.His hands were buried in a ball of dough, the strong, precise movements of his fingers and palms kneading the mixture with expert ease.Every so often, he slapped the dough onto the floured counter with a satisfyingthwapbefore folding it over and starting again.
For a moment, Lexie was too stunned to speak.There was something oddly mesmerizing about watching him work—his hands manipulating the dough with a blend of strength and finesse.It wasn’t just cooking; it was control, precision, and confidence, all of which seemed to radiate from him as naturally as breathing.
It took her a moment to notice the faint blue glow of an earpiece in his ear.He was talking to someone on the phone while he worked, his deep voice calm but commanding.
“Until John agrees to stop price gouging his customers, the port fees will continue to rise,” Max said, his tone hard and unwavering.Lexie blinked, fascinated by his words.“He’s using the factories in Thailand to lower his production costs, which is fine.But he can’t come back and spout inflation nonsense to justify padding his profit margins.”
There was a pause as Max listened to the response on the other end of the line.His jaw tightened slightly, a flicker of impatience crossing his face.Then he spoke again, his voice growing downright cold.“Double the fees next month if he tries to feed you that load of crap again.”
Lexie’s stomach flipped as she listened.It wasn’t just what he was saying—it was the authority with which he said it.She’d known Max was incredibly powerful, but this?This was something entirely different.He wasn’t just a man with influence; he was a man who made the rules.
She remained rooted to the spot, torn between fascination and unease.He moved so effortlessly between kneading dough and dictating terms that could alter the financial course of someone’s business.It was a startling reminder of who he really was—someone who didn’t just thrive in his world of power and influence, but controlled it.
“Nope.Thermopolis won’t do.”Max’s voice was firm, cutting through the quiet kitchen.
Lexie stepped into the kitchen and slid onto an island stool, nibbling on a berry from the bowl Max pushed in front of her, her curiosity piqued.She remembered seeing George Thermopolis at the party, all polished smiles and sleazy handshakes.
Another long pause followed, and then Max continued, his tone steady but carrying an unmistakable authority.“Because he’s sleeping with prostitutes without his wife’s knowledge, and he bought a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of MetroTech stock last week.”
Lexie’s brow furrowed.Buying stock disqualifies him from the governor’s race?The answer came almost immediately as Max added, “Because he’s advocating for a new subway system.MetroTech wants the state contract.”
Lexie blinked in surprise, her appetite momentarily forgotten.Insider trading?The man was a criminal!
So, that’s how it works.She’d truly liked Thermopolis—he had seemed genuine, passionate even, about social issues and lean government, efficiency and common sense policies.But now she was hearing the truth: Thermopolis wasn’t just a hypocrite, but someone trying to profit off his potential role as governor.The disappointment stung.Were there any ethical political candidates left?
Max continued his call, shifting seamlessly to another topic.“That’s because a Yakuza gang is trying to push into Tacoma.We’ll handle it.No direct confrontation unless necessary.”There was a pause before he added, “And no, I’m not meeting with him.”His tone darkened slightly as he listened to the response, but when he spoke again, it was calm.“Yes, I’ll speak with Calloway tomorrow.Tell him to bring the files.”
Lexie’s ears perked up.She recognized the name of the chief of police for Seattle.Why would he be asking Max for help?she wondered, a tangle of fascination and unease settling in her chest.
It was becoming clear that Max wasn’t just a criminal kingpin—he was a power broker, someone whose influence extended far beyond his so-called “family business.”The people coming to him weren’t petty criminals; they were politicians, police officials, and international players.And they weren’t coming to challenge him—they were asking for his help and support.
Lexie sat back, her mind racing.Wasn’t Max a criminal?Wasn’t he the head of some shadowy empire that people whispered about but never openly acknowledged?But if that was true, why did it feel like he was the one holding everything together, ensuring order where chaos might otherwise reign?
Her gaze shifted to Max, his broad shoulders tense as he ended the call with a decisive “Handle it.”He looked up then.For a moment, his intense gaze softened, and a small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.A moment later, he ended the call with a simple tap of his finger to the earpiece.Then he placed the device into a small, carved box.
“Learning something new about me,mia cara?”he asked, his deep voice cutting through her thoughts.
Lexie swallowed hard, unsure how to respond.All she could do was nod, her thoughts swirling with more questions than answers about the man she’d thought she knew.
“What’s that for?”Lexie asked, nodding toward the box, trying to keep her tone casual despite the sudden heat in the air.
“It ensures the earpiece can’t be hacked and used as a listening device,” Max explained, his voice calm but his eyes anything but.He started toward her, the gleam in his gaze making her pulse quicken.
Lexie leaned back slightly, her fingers tightening on the edge of the counter.“Paranoid much?”
“Being cautious isn’t the same as paranoia,” he replied smoothly, coming to a stop just inches from where she sat.His gaze dropped to her lips, and she swallowed hard, her breath hitching as his voice dropped to a growl.“You need to choose a wedding dress, Lexie.”
“No marriage,” she shot back, her voice more breathless than she would have preferred, though she leaned forward slightly, as if drawn to him against her will.
