ME: Scream at Maverick instead.
CAMI: Oh, I will.
I lower my phone. My hands won’t stop shaking. I try to breathe, but the air feels different. He’s locked me in here for weeks, but this? This is the first time I’ve truly felt caged.
Because Asher Redmont isn’t just dangerous. He’s untouchable.
Chapter 37
She Should Hate Me. I Should Let Her
Asher
Maverick’s phone vibrates against the table, again and again, lighting up with a relentless stream of messages.
I glance up, arching a brow. "Since when do you get this much action?"
Maverick frowns as he picks up his phone, eyes scanning the screen. His confusion shifts, darkening into something sharper. "She thinks I’m a liar." His voice is rough, barely held together. Then his grip tightens, jaw clenching.
I take in his stiff posture, the storm brewing in his eyes.
Maverick exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. "I've been texting with Cami," he admits, his voice strained. "Not just about work. More than that." He hesitates, then scoffs. "And now she thinks I'm a liar."
I know Mav. I know what this means. Calling him a liar—questioning his integrity like this—is a trigger, one that digs at something deep and ugly inside him. He can handle being doubted, underestimated even, but being accused of lying? That cuts. And Cami, whether she meant to or not, just drove the blade in deep.
He continues, stepping forward and tossing his phone onto my desk. The screen is still on, messages glaring up at me.
CAMI: You’re full of shit.
CAMI: Asher is your fucking boss
CAMI:I came to you asking for help with Vi and you fucking lied to me??
CAMI: Seriously, Mav? Are you really gonna play dumb right now??
CAMI: You and Asher, running your little secret Order and keeping me in the dark?
CAMI: Don’t insult me, Mav.
CAMI: Oh, wait, let me guess. ‘It’s complicated.’
CAMI: I’m not stupid. And I’m done with the flirtationship bullshit.
CAMI: Also, just a heads up, you suck at keeping secrets.
I exhale through my nose, picking up his phone and scrolling back. The messages drip with accusation, and frustration—Cami’s brand of fire. But she shouldn’t know any of this.
I lift my gaze to Mav. “How the fuck does she know about me with the Order?”
His jaw tightens. “That’s what I’d like to know.”
I don’t respond. I don’t need to. My mind is already working through the possibilities, and only one answer makes sense.Violet.
Maverick exhales sharply, snatching his phone from my desk. Without another word, he strides toward the door. I push away from my chair, following him out into the hall. Violet is there in the entryway, frozen mid-step, and her face paling when she sees Maverick’s expression. But there’s fire in her eyes too—anger, defiance.
Maverick stops in front of her, his voice low but unwavering. "I may keep secrets, but I never lie."
Violet's glare doesn't waver, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "You don't get to stand there and act righteous."
