Because of the absence of her parents during her childhood, Arianna Stone had always struggled with a deep-seated lack of security.

Even during her relationship with Cameron Hughes.

He would often receive phone calls and rush off in a hurry. Back then, Arianna saw it clearly—the way his eyes darted away, his guilty demeanor, the way he would flip his phone face-down on the table the moment a notification pinged...

She would constantly overthink, spiraling into a cycle of internal exhaustion, trying to reassure herself, only to repeat the process all over again.

Yet, she never dared to voice it. She couldn't be sure if something was actually wrong, or if her own insecurities and hypersensitivity were just playing tricks on her.

But now, Maxwell King was laying his daily life open before her, offering it up voluntarily, pushing her sense of security to its absolute limit.

In this moment, Arianna felt that perhaps they could actually make this work.

***

It was mid-summer. The trees were lush, and under the sweltering heat of the sun, they cast deep, cool patches of shade. The sound of cicadas hummed in the branches, a rhythmic, vibrant melody.

The car slowed to a halt near the entrance of her apartment complex. Arianna tilted her head, unclipping her seatbelt, preparing to step out.

"Wait a second," Maxwell called out suddenly.

Arianna paused. "What is it?"

Maxwell gestured toward the distance with his chin. "Is that Cameron Hughes’s car up ahead?"

Parked right next to the security booth was an aggressive-looking red sports car. The engine was still idling, the air conditioning running, and someone was reclined in the driver's seat, eyes closed.

The seat was pushed all the way back, so Arianna couldn't see the driver's face.

But she recognized that license plate all too well.

"Why is he here?" Arianna whispered.

"Perhaps," Maxwell said, turning his head to look at her. His eyes held a flicker of amusement, his tone lightly mocking, "he's waiting for someone?"

Arianna went silent.

As to who he was waiting for, they both knew exactly who it was.

Maxwell stared at the red sports car, his gaze turning icy. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel until the lines of his knuckles turned stark and sharp.

Yet, his voice remained unnervingly casual as he asked, "Do you want to go over and say hello?"

Arianna was quiet for a moment. "No. Let's just use the underground garage."

Maxwell murmured an "mm" and pulled the car forward.

As they drove past the sports car, Maxwell cast one sharp, final glance inside. Cameron Hughes was resting his head back against his arms, fast asleep.

In that instant, a thought struck Maxwell: he wanted to lay on the horn, wake him up, and tell him in no uncertain terms that Arianna was his wife, that they would be together for the rest of their lives, and that he would do well to stop haunting their lives.

However, his peripheral vision caught Arianna sitting beside him.

Maxwell white-knuckled the steering wheel, swallowing the urge until it was gone.

***

The underground parking garage was a cool, concrete sanctuary from the summer heat.

Arianna opened her door and stepped out, with Maxwell following closely behind. Arianna looked at him with a puzzled expression.

Catching her gaze, Maxwell raised his eyebrows slightly. "I'm coming up with you."

"Aren't you in a rush to get back to the office?"

"It can wait."

The two of them walked from the garage into the residential tower. Arianna pressed the button for the elevator.

The other lift had just pulled away, leaving the elevator lobby empty and echoing. It was quiet—quiet enough that they could hear the rhythm of each other's breathing.

Maxwell broke the silence, cutting straight to the point. "Are you afraid of seeing him?"

Arianna seemed taken aback by the bluntness of the question. She paused for a second. "It’s not fear."

She corrected him, "I just don't want to see him."

With that single sentence, the storm clouds in Maxwell’s mood cleared. But immediately, another thought darkened his brow. He looked less than pleased as he asked, "Has he been harassing you lately?"

"He was here this morning," Arianna said.

Maxwell fell silent.

This morning. That was only a few hours ago.

His expression soured further. He leaned down, searching for her eyes. Arianna’s gaze was clear and steady; whenever she felt overwhelmed, she had a way of making him feel grounded, like a calm, tranquil lake that could dissolve all his restlessness and uncertainty.

*Ding.*

The elevator arrived.

Arianna stepped in first and pressed the button for her floor. Maxwell followed, and suddenly, he asked, "Do you want to move in with me?"

Arianna was stunned. "Huh?"

Maxwell knew she had heard him perfectly. He didn't repeat it, a small, knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "What's wrong?"

"..." Arianna bit her lip, looking conflicted. "Isn't it a bit too early to move in together?"

"Is it?" Maxwell raised an eyebrow. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the marriage certificate he carried with him, opening it to show her the inside page. "We're already married. Is it really early?"

Arianna was speechless.

She had no idea when he’d started keeping the marriage certificate on his person. No wonder she hadn't seen it in the car earlier.

"I just mean," Arianna chose her words carefully, "I'm worried it might be an inconvenience for you."

The moment the words left her lips, Maxwell dismissed them without hesitation. "It wouldn't be an inconvenience. It would actually be quite lively if you moved in."

The elevator hummed as it ascended.

Maxwell leaned against the elevator wall, looking tall and composed, one hand casually tucked into his pocket. His tone was slow and deliberate, loaded with subtext.

"If he continues to harass you like this every day, it’s going to interfere with your work and your life."

"You said you didn't want to see him, didn't you?" Maxwell locked eyes with her, his voice low and hypnotic. "Move in with me. Then you'll never have to see him again."

Arianna stayed quiet.

Maxwell was tall, and as he leaned there, eyes fixed on her with that lazy, charming smile, he looked exactly like a siren trying to lure her in. Especially with the way he framed his proposal as a temptation.

She had to admit, she was tempted.

She bit her lip and asked hesitantly, "Then... when would it be convenient for me to move in?"

"Whenever you want," he answered without missing a beat.

He didn't give her a deadline; he left it entirely up to her. Which, ironically, made it harder for Arianna to decide. She had never been good at making choices on the spot.

Maxwell seemed to sense her hesitation. "Why not just move in today?"

Arianna froze. "Today?"

"Yeah." Maxwell was nothing if not accommodating. "What's wrong? Is it not convenient?"

Arianna lowered her head, deep in thought.

It wasn't that it wasn't convenient. Like he said, they were married; sooner or later, they would have to live together. She had fully prepared herself for that reality before they’d even gone to the registry office.

But now that the moment was here, she realized all that "mental preparation" was useless. She was still nervous, still unsure of how to proceed.

Maxwell watched her expressions carefully, then added, "Then, how about tomorrow?"

Tomorrow...

While still a bit sudden, it was better than today.

After thinking it over for a few seconds, Arianna nodded. "Okay. Let's make it tomorrow."

Maxwell hummed a casual "mm," though he didn't say anything else.

But innocent as she was, Arianna had no idea she had just walked straight into a "hunter's" trap.

There was a common technique in negotiation—the "door-in-the-face" method.

It worked by having one party make an unreasonable request first. Once the other party rejects it, they follow up with their actual, more reasonable request. The psychological effect is that after the first rejection, the other party often feels a sense of guilt, making them much more likely to agree to the second, smaller request.