“You threatened him?” I accused.

My fingers still gripped the phone tightly, my eyes fixed on Maximilian standing a few steps in front of me.

Maximilian's gray gaze stayed calm.

“I didn't need to threaten him.”

That short answer made my chest tighten even more.

I didn't want to believe him. But somehow, the way Maximilian said it sounded so certain that it only made me more afraid of a worse possibility.

Without wasting time, I pressed Owen's name in my contacts.

I kept my eyes on Maximilian without blinking. The man met my gaze, as if he had no intention of looking away from me for even a second.

Owen's number was unreachable. I bit my lower lip.

“Owen ... what's happening, please .…”

Before I could try again, Maximilian spoke up.

“He's on the plane.” The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Try again later if you're lucky, naughty little cat.”

I looked up immediately. “Why didn't you say so earlier?!”

My irritation slipped out before I could think it through.

Maximilian fell silent. For a moment, his face showed an expression I couldn't quite read, as if no one had ever dared raise their voice at him directly before.

Beside him, Lucas and a few large men moved forward instinctively. Their gazes turned sharp toward me.

Maximilian raised one hand.

“Easy. She's my wife.” His gaze shifted to me. “She's allowed to scold me.”

All his men stopped at once.

I frowned. For some reason, that sentence only made my stomach turn.

Wife? That status existed only on a piece of paper he'd forced me to sign to save Owen. Nothing more.

Maximilian stepped closer.

“Come with me. We're leaving now.” His gaze dropped to my neck. “That wound needs to be treated too.”

I wanted to refuse. But remembering the string of threats that had come out of his mouth so far, I finally followed Maximilian's steps without a word.

The long black car was already waiting in front of the church.

Maximilian got in first. I sat beside him a few seconds later. The door shut tight. The confined space suddenly felt stifling.

I breathed in slowly, but Maximilian's soft cologne filled my senses first. A scent of wood, a touch of citrus, and something warm. Damn it! Exactly the type of scent I liked.

I turned my face to the window. The closer I was to him, the harder it became to breathe normally.

Before my thoughts could settle, Maximilian opened a small first-aid kit.

“What are you—”

“Quiet.” Maximilian took out cotton and antiseptic. Before I could pull away, his fingers were already cupping my chin carefully. I froze.

The man who, moments ago, had threatened to kill Owen was now the one cleaning the cut on my own neck. His touch was so gentle it was almost imperceptible.

I found myself staring at Maximilian's face without meaning to. His brow was slightly furrowed, completely focused on making sure the cotton didn't hurt me.

My heart started pounding fast again.

Wary. Afraid. Confused.

Everything blurred together.

I swallowed hard. I didn't know where else to look. In front of me was only Maximilian Blackridge. The cruel man who had ruined my life. And, damn it, on top of everything, the man had an almost perfect face.

His eyelashes were long. His jaw was sharp. Combined with the soft scent of his body, he was nothing like what I'd imagined a mafia king to be.

“Done.” Maximilian pressed a small bandage to the side of my neck.

I was just about to pull away when his voice sounded again. “Do something like this again, and I'll clean your wound by sucking it myself, naughty little cat.”

I froze instantly.

“What?” I blinked several times.

Unbidden, my mind pictured Maximilian's face leaning toward my neck, his lips touching my skin to draw out the blood.

I shook my head quickly.

God. What was I thinking? My reason immediately slapped that ridiculous image away.

The drive to the hotel turned out not to take long. A few minutes later, the car stopped in front of a luxurious building facing straight out onto the sea.

I stepped out slowly. A private elevator carried us up to the top floor. The moment the suite door opened, my eyes swept across the entire room.

Spacious. Elegant. Dominated by black, gray, and gold. A massive glass window stretched from floor to ceiling, revealing an expanse of blue sea shimmering under the midday sun.

The view was beautiful. Unfortunately, I had no reason whatsoever to enjoy it.

I'd only taken a few steps when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around my waist from behind.

My body tensed. Maximilian held me close. His lips brushed my earlobe gently. I shivered instinctively at the ticklish sensation.

“Don't—”

I tried to pull away.

But his arms held too tight. “We haven't had our first wedding kiss yet.”

I turned my head to look at him.

“Is that even necessary?” I asked, frowning. “We didn't marry for love.”

Maximilian gave a faint smile.

“Marriage doesn't need love.” His gaze bore straight into mine. “Look at us now.”

I tried again to break free.

“Let go of me.” His arms still held on.

“Getting married may not need love, but keeping it together certainly does, Mr. Blackridge!” I snapped.

Maximilian went quiet. I felt his arms loosen slowly. Seizing the chance, I pulled free at once and stepped back several paces. My ragged breathing hadn't yet returned to normal.

I looked at him directly. “Don't you dare touch me again until I've made sure Owen has landed safely in the United States.”

Before Maximilian could answer, Lucas entered the suite. Lucas approached and whispered something into his boss's ear.

I couldn't make out what they were saying. But I saw Maximilian's jaw harden instantly. His gaze turned far colder than before.

Maximilian turned to me. “Stay here. And don't try to run or do anything reckless. You know I can do whatever I want to your precious Owen.”

Without waiting for my answer, Maximilian turned around. Lucas followed him out.

The suite door closed. I ran to it at once. I twisted the handle, but it wouldn't budge. I tried again. Still locked. I searched around the door for a key card or key, but found nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I was locked in.

“Damn mafia king!” I cursed, kicking the sofa leg lightly.

I swept my gaze around the room. That was when I realized there wasn't a single pair of scissors, fruit knife, or any other sharp object anywhere in sight.

I clicked my tongue in irritation. Could it be that Maximilian had deliberately removed every sharp object from this room after I'd threatened myself earlier?

Hour after hour passed. The spacious suite only grew quieter and quieter. I tried calling Owen several times, but the result stayed the same.

Without realizing it, I began glancing at the door every few minutes, waiting for Maximilian to return.

When my phone finally chimed, I grabbed it at once, my breath catching. My eyes went wide reading the sender's name.

“Owen.”

With trembling hands, I opened the message.

[I'm sorry, Emery, my love. This will be my last message. I really am a coward. Forget about me. I’ll be safer without you.]

My chest felt tight, as if something were tearing through it.

The fingers gripping my phone began to tremble. Owen's short message kept filling the screen, every letter turning into a blade stabbing me again and again.

[I'm sorry, Emery, my love. This will be my last message. I really am a coward. Forget about me. I'll be safer without you.]

Tears fell without me being able to hold them back.

I hurriedly typed a reply. “You're not even going to ask about me, Owen?”

My fingers moved so fast I hit the wrong letters several times. After making sure the message was right, I sent it immediately.

But it never turned into two check marks. My chest sank again.

“Owen ....” I whispered.

I pressed the call button right away. My hope was simple. I just wanted to hear Owen's voice one more time. I wanted to believe this was all just a misunderstanding we could fix together.

But the operator's voice in my ear shattered that last hope instead.

“The number you have dialed is not in service.”

I froze. Owen had changed his number?

The tears I'd been holding back finally fell harder. My fifth engagement had officially ended. Even more painful than the four before it. How cursed could I possibly be.

I let out a soft laugh in between sobs. It felt almost funny.

Before receiving that message, I'd still been making plans in my head. Once I confirmed Owen had landed safely in the United States, I would force Maximilian to divorce me.

He might have been able to force me into marriage. But I was sure that, sooner or later, I could force him to sign the divorce papers too.

I bit my lower lip. Though, honestly, I still had no idea how.

My gaze shifted toward the suite door. Still shut tight. No sign of Maximilian coming back yet.

I wiped my tears roughly. If I kept crying, I would only sink further into despair.

I was still holding my phone. There was one more option I hadn't tried. My hand quickly dialed the emergency number.

The line rang a few times before someone finally answered.

“Emergency service. How can we help you?”

I stood up immediately.

“Help!” My voice broke. “I've been kidnapped!”

Less than 15 minutes later, the sound of loud knocking came from the other side of the suite door.

I ran to it at once.

The door opened from outside. Several uniformed officers entered the room, moving with caution.

My chest instantly felt so much lighter. Finally. Finally, someone had come to save me.

One of the officers approached. “Are you the one who called?”

“Yes!” I nodded quickly. “I was forced to marry someone. I've also been locked in here!”

The officer took out a small notebook.

“Calm down, miss. Tell us everything from the beginning.”

I explained everything without leaving out a single detail.

Owen, the hostage video, Maximilian's threats, the forced marriage. All of it. But the longer I talked, the more the officer's expression changed. He looked doubtful.

“So …” the officer said slowly. “You're legally married?”

“Yes, but—”

“And you came to this hotel with your husband without being handcuffed?”

“That's because he threatened—”

“You also signed the marriage documents yourself?”

“Yes ... but I was forced to.” My voice trailed off.

The officer exchanged glances with his partner.

“I'm sorry, miss, but from what we can see, you're an adult woman who came to a church, signed marriage documents under your own name, and then left the place together with your husband.”

“That wasn't my choice!”

“Is there any evidence this threat actually happened? A recording, a witness, anyone who saw him coercing you?”

“There isn't. But I'm not lying.” I clenched my fists.

The officers exchanged glances again before turning back to me.

“We understand you're under a lot of stress. But without evidence or a witness, it's very difficult for us to conclude this is a case of kidnapping or coercion.”

One of the officers took a call over his radio. He nodded a few times before looking back at me.

“We've also confirmed something. Your ex-fiancé landed safely in the United States.”

I already knew that. And I should have felt relieved. But the reality was the opposite. Because with Owen safe, the threat from Maximilian I'd just reported now sounded like something that had never really happened at all.

In the officers' eyes, he hadn't kidnapped or killed anyone.

I hurried toward them again.

“Please …” My voice grew weak. “You have to believe me. He's mafia. He's the Mafia King!”

The officer standing closest to me laughed.

“Mafia King?” He glanced at his partner, chuckling. “You've been reading too many novels, haven't you?”

A few other officers smiled in amusement too.

My blood boiled instantly. I clenched my fists so tight my nails dug into my own palms. They thought I was making up a story.

Just as I was about to argue again, a large hand suddenly landed on my shoulder.

My body went rigid. I turned slowly. Maximilian was already standing beside me, seemingly out of nowhere.

“I'm sorry,” he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “My wife caused a scene.”

I shot him a sharp look.

“You—”

Before I could finish my sentence, Maximilian suddenly pulled me by the waist. His lips brushed my cheek in front of all the officers.

I froze. My entire body turned to stone.

“She's just upset,” Maximilian continued casually. “I left her to work on the day of our wedding.”

One of the officers gave a small laugh. “Ah, just a newlywed misunderstanding, then.”

“More or less.” Maximilian even gave a faint smile.

I stared at him in disbelief. How skilled this man's tongue was at lying. And what made it even more hopeless, everyone believed him.

“Well then, we'll be on our way.””

The officers began to leave the suite.

“Wait!” I chased after them instinctively. “Please don't go! He's lying!”

I'd barely taken a few steps when my wrist was yanked back. His grip left me unable to move.

The suite door closed once more.

Maximilian tilted my chin up with his finger. I was forced to look straight into his dark eyes.

“I told you, don't do anything crazy, naughty little cat!” Maximilian scolded.

My heart pounded harder and harder. I swallowed hard. I had a feeling that if I stayed beside this man tonight, I wouldn't survive it.

Before I could say anything, Maximilian spoke again.

“We're going back to the United States now. It's not safe for you to stay here too long.”

Maximilian turned, apparently about to give an order to Lucas.

Instinctively, I grabbed the edge of his jacket.

“Not safe from who?” I asked, staring straight at him. “Why does a mafia king like you look ... afraid?”

“Afraid?”

Maximilian repeated my words quietly, as if the term sounded strange to his own ears. His brow furrowed slightly, his gray eyes fixed on me without blinking.

I stared back at him. Something was different. I caught a flicker of emotion I'd never seen on Maximilian's face before.

Only a split second. So quick that anyone else might have missed it. But I wasn't anyone else.

After years of working as both a wedding planner and event organizer, I'd trained myself to read the body language of brides and grooms. Often a bride would give her groom just the smallest glance, and from that alone I'd know the dress needed altering, the decorations needed changing, or something was making her uncomfortable.

A look had become a language I understood far better than words. And just now, Maximilian had looked genuinely worried. He quickly hid that expression. So fast that his face returned to its usual coldness.

“Mrs. Blackridge.” Lucas's voice broke the silence. “I believe you've spoken out of line.”

I turned toward him. Before I could respond, Maximilian's voice rang out louder than before.

“I already told you! Emery is free to say whatever she wants to me.”

His tone was so sharp it sounded like a snap. The room fell suddenly silent.

Lucas tensed immediately. I fell silent too.

“My apologies, sir.” Lucas bowed his head at once.

Maximilian didn't even glance at him. His gaze stayed fixed on me. Slowly he stepped closer until our faces were once again only inches apart.

“I've never been afraid of anything, Emery,” Maximilian said, each word deliberate.

I held my breath instinctively.

“Until I met you,” Maximilian continued.

I raised both eyebrows. What? I hadn't misheard, had I?

Before I could process what he meant, a deafening gunshot rang out.

Bang!

“Ahh!” I let out a soft scream.

My body dropped into a crouch instinctively, hands covering my head. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it would leap out of my chest.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

A burst of gunfire followed, shattering the suite's silence. The sound of breaking glass filled the room.

I didn't know who was shooting. I didn't know where the bullets were coming from. All I knew was that those terrifying sounds felt far too close.

Someone suddenly pulled at my body.

“Get down, Emery!”

I recognized the voice, Maximilian. For the first time since meeting him, I obeyed Maximilian's order without a single objection.

Maximilian held me tightly. My chest pressed against his body as he positioned himself in front of me, as if making himself a human shield.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Without realizing it, my hands clutched his jacket.

The gunfire kept exchanging back and forth for several seconds. I didn't even dare lift my head. Then, everything went suddenly quiet. Only the sound of our ragged breathing remained.

“We're leaving now.” Maximilian pulled at my shoulder gently.

Maximilian helped me stand. My legs shook violently. The first sight that met my eyes made me freeze instantly.

The massive glass window had shattered into pieces. Broken glass covered the floor. The table, the flower vase, the television, even the painting on the wall had all been destroyed by the gunfire.

I swallowed hard. This suite was on the fifth floor. Whoever had shot at us must have been targeting Maximilian specifically.

“Quickly, sir!” Lucas shouted from the doorway.

Maximilian gave a short nod. But when I tried to take a step, my knees gave out completely. Tears filled my eyes again.

I couldn't do it. I truly couldn't. Without saying a word, Maximilian bent down. He lifted my body into his arms.

I gasped. My hands wrapped instinctively around his neck to keep from falling. My body trembled. I buried my face in the curve of his shoulder.

Maximilian ran out of the suite with long strides. I kept my eyes shut tight. Until something warm dampened my fingers as I touched Maximilian's arm.

I opened my eyes slowly. Both my eyes went wide.

“You've been shot!” My voice trembled violently.

Maximilian kept running down the hotel corridor.

“That first shot earlier. It's nothing. I'm used to it,” Maximilian answered casually.

I stared at him in disbelief. Used to it? How could anyone consider a bullet lodged in their arm something ordinary?

“You need to get treated right away!” I cried, nearly in tears.

Maximilian only lifted one corner of his mouth. “Are you starting to worry about me now?”

I frowned in irritation. Had this man lost his mind? There was a bullet lodged in his arm, yet he still had time to tease me.

We finally reached the hotel's back lobby. Several black cars were already waiting with their engines running.

Before getting into the car, Maximilian paused for a moment. His gaze turned cold. He turned to Lucas.

“Finish them,” Maximilian ordered. “No mercy.”

I shuddered. He said those words as easily as someone ordering a cup of coffee.

Maximilian's world was truly the opposite of mine. I lived among guest lists, floral arrangements, wedding gowns, and sacred vows. While this man lived among blood, bullets, and death.

The car door shut the moment we got in. Before I could even catch my breath, Maximilian opened a medical kit stored beneath the seat. Without hesitation, he took out a small surgical blade and a pair of forceps.

“What are you doing?!” I asked, panicked.

Maximilian didn't answer. Instead, he tore open his own jacket sleeve, revealing the gunshot wound still bleeding.

I went pale instantly. With an expression that was nearly blank, Maximilian inserted the forceps into the wound.

“Maximilian, don't—”

I screamed as the madman dug the bullet out of his own arm. The blood flowed even more heavily. But what terrified me more was that he then took a surgical needle and began stitching his own wound without so much as a wince.

“Oh my God!” I was completely panicked.

My heart felt like it had stopped beating at the horrifying sight before me. But beneath that fear, something inside me stirred.

My humanity. I gritted my teeth, then leaned closer with trembling hands.

“What can I do to help, damn it?” I asked, my hands shaking. “You're terrifying!”