Page 142 of Unbreakable Thread

“I’m okay. I sat for so long my feet are better.”

He raises a brow, not believing me. I’m trying to calm my beating heart. I want to leave without making a scene. So maybe one dance will make it seem less as if we are fleeing.

A melody drifts through the room, something slow and old. Max’s arms find my waist, and I feel the warmth of his hands through the open slit of my dress on my back. I reach up and lace my fingers behind his neck, where his hair is just starting to curl from the heat. He smells of the scent that feels like home. His lips brush my earlobe. “This is a great way to end the night. So many memories behind it.”

I rest my head on his shoulder, smiling into it, thinking of all those nights I spent teaching him to dance. “It is,” I agree. “The way you move… I taught you well.”

His husky laugh vibrates on my chest. “You did…very stubborn teacher.”

I lift my head to stare into his eyes. “Remember the school dance.”

His lips curl. “Fuck yeah, I remember. Drake had to give me a pep talk. My anxiety was through the roof.” He plants a kiss on my forehead. “We danced the entire night.”

“We did.” I lean my head back on his chest and move to the music. Another song plays, and we keep dancing. When I lift my head back up, Max is scanning the room. It doesn’t surprise me. He should work for the Secret Service or as a celebrity bodyguard. I follow his gaze around the room. “I don’t see Nessa. It’s strange she’s not here,” I tell Max.

“It doesn’t surprise me. Carlos probably didn’t want her to come.”

“Do you think she knows about the other women?” I ask. If she doesn’t, that must suck, or hell, she might just join in.

He shrugs. “Honestly, baby. I don’t give a shit about Nessa. The woman is not a dumbass. If she suggested that you leave me, then it doesn’t surprise me if she knows more than we think.”

I notice some female boxers. I don’t see Annette. She’s always glued to Carlos. “Annette’s not here,” I announce.

Max makes a face. “Good.”

He twirls me around as the beat of the song picks up.

“So what happened to her hand?” I eye him. I know he would never hurt her himself. But after what she did to his phone and everything she caused between us. I wouldn’t put it past him to have said something to someone.

“They fucked her up,” he says nonchalantly.

“Max.”

He groans. “Fine, I got a woman to beat the shit out of her. Annette had been talking crap about another woman fighter, and I kind of told her, and well…shit happened.” He lifts my chin. “I warned her to stay the fuck away from you. She didn’t listen. I wasn’t about to let anyone come between us or hurt you. She gets what she deserves.”

“I…”

“Don’t feel bad for her. She didn’t care about you or anyone. It was all about her.”

I sigh. “I know.” My lips brush the fabric of his shirt, leaving a stain from my lipstick. “I love you.” Another kiss. “You always take care of me.”

“I love you too.” The music stops, and many are already leaving.

The guys stand by the bar, emptying their glasses.

Max gestures toward the ornate double doors of the ballroom. “Let’s get going.” His voice is low but commanding. Leo adjusts his cufflinks as he falls in line behind Max, while Drake and Xander exchange a quick glance before following. The polished marble floor reflects our hurried steps. Just as we reach the threshold, Carlos materializes like a shadow with a stern expression, effectively blocking the exit. Waiting. Planning.

“Max.” Carlos’s voice hisses like a snake ready to inject its venom. “So nice to see you all here. How have you been?”

“Great. Now get the fuck out of our way.” Max’s voice is as lethal as the look on his handsome face. His one hand is stretched out, protecting my stomach.

Carlos’s lip twists. A smug chuckle burst out of him. “Let’s talk, Max.”

My chest rattles like a snare drum under my dress, and I flatten my palm against the center, feeling the bone there rise and fall beneath my sweaty skin. Something catches in my throat—a hiccup, a sob—and I force it down, the muscles working visibly beneath my jaw. I’m trying hard to control myself. Why can’t he just leave us alone? Why?

“Like I said, get the fuck out of our way.” Max’s eyes slant into an angry rage. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“Move,” Xander shouts, balling his fists on his side.