She nearly sighed out loud, her worries fading.So, this wasn’t the beginning of the end.Max not being in bed with her this morning wasn’t a sign he was done with her.It was just… Max being Max, whatever that meant.
As she stepped closer, Max stood, the gesture both old-fashioned and inherently him.And then, just as smoothly, he reached out, taking her hand in his.When he lifted her fingers to his lips, his deep, husky voice sent shivers skittering through her body.
“Good morning,mia cara,” he murmured, his lips brushing her knuckles.
“Good morning, Max,” she managed, her voice softer than she’d intended.Her thoughts scrambled in his presence, as they always did.Why couldn’t she think of a nickname for him?Something endearing?But no—her brain stubbornly refused to function properly.
The other man rose from his chair as well, his sharp eyes assessing her.Max, ever the gentleman, pulled out another chair for her before making introductions.
“Lexie,” he said smoothly, “this is Chief Marshall Calloway of the Seattle Police Department.Marshall, this is my fiancée, Lexie Stacias.”
Fiancée.The word made her heart skip, even if she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the title yet.Still, she managed a polite smile and extended her hand toward the chief.
“It’s nice to meet you, Chief Calloway,” she said, her voice steadier than she’d expected.
“The pleasure’s mine,” the chief replied, his handshake firm but brief.His eyes, sharp and calculating, shifted between her and Max.“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Lexie couldn’t help but glance at Max, whose lips twitched subtly, suggesting he knew something she didn’t.
“Well, don’t believe everything you hear,” she joked lightly, trying to keep the mood casual.
Chief Calloway chuckled, but there was a weight in his demeanor, the kind of authority that came from years of wielding power.
Lexie tried to maintain a polite demeanor, smiling faintly at Chief Calloway as she sipped her tea.But beneath her calm expression, she was frustrated.Did the man really need to meet with Max this early on a Sunday morning?It wasn’t even eight o’clock yet!Couldn’t he have waited for normal working hours?
As the three of them settled into their seats, one of the servants appeared, bringing fresh coffee for the men and a carafe of herbal tea for her.Lexie added sweetener and a wedge of lemon, thinking idly that she could definitely get used to having someone make her tea every morning.
She was mid-sip when the conversation caught her attention.
“Chief Calloway and I were going over the crime statistics for the past week, Lexie,” Max said, his tone neutral.
She smiled politely but was confused.Why would the chief of police report to Max?It didn’t make sense, but she kept her questions to herself, choosing to focus on her tea instead of the strange dynamics at play.
That’s when the specifics of their conversation sank in.
“Like I was saying, Max,” Chief Calloway began, leaning back in his chair, “there are inconsistencies in the girls’ stories.”
Lexie’s eyes darted to Max.He picked up his coffee mug, his movements slow and deliberate.His dark gaze settled on the chief, unreadable but charged with something that made Lexie tense.Even she could sense that whatever Max was about to say wasn’t going to be pleasant.
“First of all,” Max began evenly, “the reports I read stated that the three women were in their mid-twenties.”
The chief nodded.“That’s correct.”
“So, why are you referring to them as ‘girls’?”Max’s tone was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.
The chief’s brow twitched, and he barely restrained an eyeroll.“Come on, Max,” he said with a chuckle.“You know what I mean.They’re young women.”
Max’s eyes didn’t waver.“Would you refer to your sons as boys?”
Chief Calloway huffed, his face coloring slightly.“They’re in their thirties now,” he admitted.“Hardly boys anymore.”
“Exactly,” Max replied smoothly.“I’d consider eighteen to be the age where someone transitions from a child to an adult, even though they still have a lot to learn.”
“That’s true, legally speaking,” the chief conceded.
“Then why,” Max asked, his voice tightening ever so slightly, “do you keep referring to the survivors as ‘girls’?”
There was a beat of silence.The chief’s expression hardened briefly before he exhaled, setting his cup down onto the saucer with exaggerated care.He glanced at Lexie, his tone shifting as he spoke.“You’re right, of course.My apologies.”His voice carried a reluctant edge, as though he’d been forced into admitting a mistake he didn’t agree with.“The threewomen,” he emphasized, “have some inconsistencies in their stories.”
