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Chapter 226 When I got back to the Hilton family mansion, Max practically sweptoff my feet and carriedinside, and I hadn't even put on my shoes. There I was, my bare feet dangling in the air, feeling utterly embarrassed. I buried my face in Max's chest, seeking scomfort in the warmth. And then Helen, ever the attentive one, cjogging over, saying, "Mr. Hilton, the bath in your room is ready, and I've added the rose petals Ms. Claire likes." I was so shy, I wished I could just vanish right then and there.
When on earth had Max planned all this? "Max, I'd like to bathe alone," I said, wriggling out of his arms. He didn't insist, just gently setdown.
Just then, his new chauffeur walked in, maintaining a respectful distance, and reported, "Mr. Hilton, you left your phone in the car. Brought it over for you. Also, there was an incoming call." Max acknowledged with a nod, taking the phone before disappearing into his study.
As I turned to head into his bedroom-a place I hadn't entered before since I was always assigned a different room-it hitjust how lavish everything was. The décor was all rich mahogany, the floors were intricately patterned with herringbone parquet, and the ceiling was a masterpiece of craftsmanship.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtThe sheer size of the room, including a walk-in wardrobe, was something most people could only dream of. But for Max, it was just another room.
"Ms. Claire, Mr. Hilton has always wanted you to move in with him. He's just been waiting for the right time, wanting to respect your wishes," Helen relayed, almost as if she was Max's spokesperson.
The reality of the situation dawned on me.
"I need a bath. It's been a long day." Today, at the detective bureau, I'd thought I was closing in on Tracie, only to have Ronald suggest it might be a smokescreen by Richard. My sorrow had quickly turned into an indescribable sense of frustration.
Richard must have anticipated my moves, or perhaps he knew all along what I would do next.
Stepping into the bathroom, I was taken aback by the sheer size of the bathtub alone, a reminder of the opulent lives the wealthy lead a stark contrast to my days in the Haven of Hope Orphanage As I got comfy in the tub, leaning against the edge, it hitjust how well Richard hadfigured out. How was I supposed to outsmart him? Lost in thought, I hardly noticed Max slipping in. He was dressed in a light, white silk pajama set, with one button undone at the collar, revealing a hint of his chest.
I pursed my lips, knowing full well what he was thinking.
Despite his usually stern demeanor, he had his own wild ways of expressing himself.
He scooped up sflower-scented water, gently pouring it over my back.
"Max, what if we pretend to break up? It could throw Richard off, make him think you and I are on the outs It might lower his guard, allowto get closer," I suggested, the words barely out before I saw Max freeze, his hand pausing mid-air.
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"Max, I don't see another way. It's the only chance to draw out Hannah and the protect the girls from Haven of Hope Orphanage. They're in danger, and Richard, he wants you dead."
I reached out, clasping his arm, tryingto convey the urgency and desperation felt. He remained silent, but knew too well the scars he bore were likely linked to Richard. "Max..." "No," he said firmly, cutting off my plea.
"But I have to do something. Those girls are innocent, and if Hannah gets her way, and Richard... Richard wants you out of the picture." He said nothing in return, but his
silence spoke volumes. I knew the risks, the sacrifices, but also them stakes we were playing a dangerous wed game, but it was one I had to engage in, for the sake of all those at risk.
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