Maeve's thoughts ran in a different direction.
The first time she'd seen Landon at The Imperial, she hadn't thought much of him.
Now she knew the truth: that quiet, unremarkable man had been orchestrating far more than he ever let on.
If Andres was handing her an opening, she might as well meet the shadowy boss face-to-face.
"Fine," Maeve said. "I'll make time and go with you."
Andres's face lit up with a smile so openly happy it almost looked boyish.
Murray watched, stunned. So it was true—even a man like Andres could finally meet his match.
In Murray's experience, no woman had ever been able to affect Andres's mood like this.
Even the so-called goddess from Aethelburg—back when rumors swirled around her and Andres—had bent over backwards trying to please him.
Andres looked gentle. Polished. Rarely angry.
But his temper ran deep.
If something didn't go his way, he'd shut down completely—freezing people out without caring how badly it hurt them.
Maeve was the exception. A miracle.
He pampered her, protected her, coaxed her like it still wasn't enough.
Even when she gave him a cold face, he'd placate her carefully—never once daring to use his usual silent-treatment tactics on her.
—
That afternoon, the couple drove back to Azure Bay Villa.
Maeve's modified SUV had taken damage in the collision and was acting up again; for the foreseeable future, it had to go into the shop.
Andres offered immediately, "I'll have another custom build done for you. Better than the last one."
"No," Maeve said. "Fix it. It still runs."
That car meant something to her—something that ran deep.
No matter how badly it was damaged, she had no intention of replacing it.
Andres was sharp enough to catch the flicker in her eyes.
He guessed her insistence was tied to someone—or something—from her past.

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