Two months bled by in a blur.

Rose Harrison finally stepped out of the hospital, the crisp, untainted air hitting her lungs like a tonic. She inhaled deeply, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Finally out, aren't you? Look at you, acting like a child again," Margaret Hayes teased, her eyes scanning her daughter with a mixture of relief and maternal affection.

"Mom, stop it! I’m a grown woman, show some love, won't you?" Rose pouted, swaying toward her mother and nudging her shoulder. "I’m just so relieved. That hospital air… it felt like it was suffocating me. I need to get out, breathe, and just disappear into the sunlight for a while."

Margaret sighed, though a smile lingered on her face. "Fair enough. Actually, that works out. Lily Hughes is hosting a private gala in a couple of days. I want you to come with me. And for heaven’s sake, stop obsessing over Maximus Anderson. Watching you pine for him is giving me an ulcer."

"Mom—I know, I know!" Rose pulled at her mother's sleeve, her voice dripping with practiced sweetness.

Seeing the sheer lack of conviction in her daughter's eyes, Margaret couldn't help but jab her one last time. "Don't you dare forget."

"I promise, Mom! You have my word. I won't forget," Rose insisted, feigning surrender.

"Fine, fine. Just get in the car. Your father is probably pacing the floors back home, waiting for you."

"Home it is," Rose chimed, her laughter trailing off into the breeze.

***

Meanwhile, Maximus Anderson had spent the last sixty days witnessing the true rot of human nature. He had learned the hard way that the moment a shark bleeds, the smaller fish scatter. Those who had once groveled for a seat at his table had vanished the moment the Anderson Group hit a rough patch.

He stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, his gaze cold as he surveyed the glittering, indifferent sprawl of the city lights below. His heart felt as frozen as the glass beneath his hand.

The relentless pressure had eroded his stock prices and thinned his roster of partners, but it had also forged him. He had stripped away his own youthful naivety, identifying every fracture in his leadership style and plugging the gaps with cold, calculated efficiency. The Maximus Anderson who stood there now wasn't the man he’d been two months ago; he was a titan of industry, tempered in the fire of corporate warfare, with a grip on his empire that was nothing short of ruthless.

He’d purged the dead weight from his company, replacing the comfortable with the capable, until the entire Anderson Group hummed with a sharp, lethal discipline.

And yet, in the shadows of his life, Delilah Kelly was beginning to fray.

She watched the Anderson stock ticker like a vulture waiting for a carcass. She saw the high-level executives jumping ship, the shareholders demanding blood, and the way Maximus had grown cold, distant, and utterly consumed by his own orbit. The panic was starting to taste like copper in her throat. She found herself lying awake at night, wondering if the man she’d fought so hard to possess was actually a sinking ship, and if it was time to find a more lucrative harbor.

It was 2:30 AM when the sound of keys rattling in the lock signaled his arrival.

Maximus stepped into the foyer, his posture slumped, his exhaustion etched into the hollows of his face. He kicked off his Italian leather shoes, his movements heavy.

"Still up?" he muttered, eyes weary.

When he caught sight of Delilah, he forced a ghost of a smile. "Did you miss me that much?"

Delilah stared at him. Up close, the handsome, sharp-featured man she’d fixated on looked completely shattered. His shoulders were bowed, his posture ruined by a day of unrelenting stress. A pang of something that wasn't quite love—perhaps just a desperate, selfish ache—hit her. She didn't hesitate. She lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice thick with fake devotion. "I missed you so much I couldn't even close my eyes."

Maximus sighed, his arms coming around her, his touch lacking its usual edge. "I told you not to wait up. It’s been… a hell of a season. Just let me catch my breath, and I’ll make it up to you."

"I'll be here," Delilah promised into his neck, her eyes cold as she stared at the wall behind him. "I'll be waiting."