Chapter 111: Predators In Silk

Maximilian glanced at the screen.

Dorian.

For a fleeting second, a dark impulse flashed through him… if only one could punch someone through a phone.

He almost declined the call himself.

But before he could act, Catherine did something he did not expect.

She pressed the accept button and placed the phone in his hand.

Then she turned and walked straight to Alexander, slipping quietly into the circle of her brothers as if the world outside that space no longer existed.

She didn’t want to deal with Dorian. So she handed him over.

Maximilian stared at the phone for half a second.

“Hello?”

“Catherine?” Dorian’s voice came through, tight with urgency.

Maximilian’s mouth curved slightly.

“What do you want?”

Silence.

“…What are you—” Dorian stopped mid-sentence.

Then realization dawned.

“Max… Maximilian?”

Maximilian had a thousand sharp things he could say. A dozen threats he could imply without raising his voice.

But he looked up.

Down the hallway, Catherine sat between her brothers — William on one side, Alexander on the other. Bobby and Jon leaned in close. Their heads nearly touched as they spoke in low tones.

The spouses hovered nearby. The grandchildren sat unusually quiet.

This corridor wasn’t a battlefield. It was sacred ground.

“She’s busy,” Maximilian said evenly. “Do not disturb her.”

And he ended the call.

No drama. No insults. Just finality.

Because that was what this moment called for.

—–

Across the hallway, Miranda, Sophia, and Victoria had very clearly not been spying.

They were simply… observing.

After praying for their father-in-law, there was nothing left to do but wait. And when waiting becomes unbearable, women of a certain age begin analyzing.

“Did she just hand her phone to him?” Victoria whispered.

Miranda nodded slowly. “Sammy won’t even let me breathe near her screen. And Catherine just… gave it to him.”

Sophia’s eyes widened, scandalously bright. “She’s in love, isn’t she?”

The other two exchanged looks.

It was the only explanation.

This was Catherine. Their formidable sister-in-law who kept men at a safe two-meter radius. Who froze with a single look if someone leaned too close. Who once made a senator’s son retreat just by arching one brow.

“Did you see how close he was standing?” Miranda murmured. “His hand was at her waist.”

“At the small of her back,” Sophia corrected quietly.

A pause.

Sophia leaned in, lowering her voice to something almost sinful. “Do you think they’re sleeping together?”

“Soph!” Miranda and Victoria hissed at the same time — scandalized.

But they leaned closer anyway.

“…It’s possible,” Miranda admitted under her breath.

Sophia rubbed her hands together, eyes gleaming. “After Winthorp, I already started sketching wedding gowns for Catherine. Silk from Florence. Hand-stitched lace. If I push, I can finish it in six to eight weeks. I need her approval.”

Miranda gave her a solemn thumbs-up. “Excellent preparation.”

Sophia’s voice softened for a second. “We’ll celebrate after he comes out of surgery.”

Victoria blinked. “Shouldn’t we… comfort them?”

All three turned.

The five Preston siblings sat in a tight cluster. Catherine was in the middle. Her brothers formed a silent wall around her. No one was speaking loudly. There were no dramatics. Just closeness. Just love.

“They’re fine,” Victoria murmured.

For now.

Miranda and Sophia agreed. Let the siblings have their space.

And then… Their attention shifted back to Maximilian, the newcomer.

He stood slightly apart from the family circle, Catherine’s phone still in his hand. Tall. Composed. A little out of place. His jaw tight, shoulders squared — not relaxed, but restrained.

“He’s tall enough to marry her,” Miranda assessed clinically.

“He’s Whitmore,” Sophia added. “Old blood. Wealth. Direct descendant of the 27th President.”

Victoria raised a brow. “Is that so?”

Miranda nodded thoughtfully. “Ah… so that’s Catherine’s taste.”

“He’s not as handsome as Bobby,” Sophia said loyally.

Both Miranda and Victoria rolled their eyes.

“He’s handsome enough,” Victoria said.

“More than enough,” Miranda murmured. “There’s something about him.”

They watched him again.

The way his eyes kept drifting back to Catherine. Not casually. Not curiously.

Possessively.

Not in a crude way, no. In the way a man watches something he has already decided is his responsibility. His choice. His future.

A slow silence settled between them. James had accepted him in a single look. But was it fear or hurry? Or was it instinct of a man who knew what’s best for his daughter?

The three women wanted to know.

So they moved, like coordinated predators in silk.

Maximilian looked up just in time to see them approaching, smiling too politely. They circled him before he could react.

“Oh—” he straightened instinctively.

Sophia’s smile was dazzling. “Maximilian, is it?”

Miranda’s tone was gentle. “How long have you known our Catherine?”

Victoria tilted her head. “You seem… comfortable.”

He swallowed.

“Uh—I— I should return her phone,” he tried, stepping slightly to the side.

They shifted with him. Blocking.

Sophia leaned just a fraction closer. “We won’t bite.”

Miranda added sweetly, “Unless you deserve it.”

Victoria smiled serenely. “Do you?”

Maximilian blinked.

For the first time that evening, the composed Maximilian who had handled decade-long wars in his previous life, looked genuinely cornered.

Across the hall, Catherine glanced up.

And for a split second, their eyes met.

His gaze changed. It softened.

And Catherine’s breath caught in her throat before she could stop it.

The three women saw that too and exchanged a look that said everything.

Oh. He was already gone for her.

Catherine saw the three women circling Maximilian.

He looked composed. Too composed. The kind of composure a man wears when he’s outnumbered but refuses to show it.

And yet, he absolutely looked like a fish out of water.

Yes, he had grown up surrounded by strong women. His mother could dismantle anything with a smile. His sister was a hurricane in heels.

But her sisters-in-law? They were a different species.

She knew it.

Maximilian’s gaze flicked toward her. Just once. And that was enough.

Catherine stood.

She didn’t announce herself. She didn’t clear her throat. She walked straight into the circle, reached out, and wrapped her hand around his arm.

She felt the muscle shift beneath her fingers.

Without a word, she tugged him away.

“Where are you taking him?” Sophia stepped sideways, blocking her path with a dramatic pout. “We were just talking.”

Catherine pressed her lips together.

“You’ve talked enough.” Her fingers tightened unconsciously around Maximilian’s sleeve. “Now, he’s mine.”

The word fell into the air.

Mine.

It echoed louder than it should have.

Catherine froze.

Her pulse slammed once against her ribs.

What did I just say?

The three women went very still.

Slowly… very slowly… they pressed their lips together. Eyebrows lifted. Knowing smiles bloomed. Miranda elbowed Sophia. Victoria bit back laughter.

Catherine felt heat crawl up her neck.

Maximilian didn’t move, didn’t correct her, didn’t laugh. He was looking down at her.

Something darker flickered in his eyes. Something that said he heard that word… and accepted it.

Her stomach flipped.

She rolled her eyes dramatically, as if she hadn’t just publicly claimed a man.

“Let’s go,” she muttered, dragging him away.

And he followed willingly without resistance. If anything, his hand shifted slightly sliding lower along her arm until his fingers brushed the inside of her wrist.

A subtle touch, but deliberate. Possessive.

Her breath caught for half a second.

On the way back… Sammy appeared.

Of course, she did.

“So…” Sammy crossed her arms, smirking. “Has your ’friend’ decided yet?”

Air quotes.

Sharp. Accusing.

Catherine’s face burned hotter.

Did she realize I had asked about myself?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Catherine said quickly. Too quickly.

Maximilian’s thumb brushed lightly against her pulse point. It was unconscious. Or maybe not.

But it made her heart stutter harder.

Sammy’s eyes dropped to their arms. Then back up.

“Oh,” she said slowly. “I see.”

Catherine did not want to deal with this.

Not today.

She had only been here a few hours and she already felt wrung dry. Between her father’s condition, Dorian’s call, and now this relentless teasing…

It was going to be a long few days.

She exhaled.

Then her gaze drifted.

The red light above the operating room glowed steadily.

Unforgiving.

Daddy… please be okay.

Please fight.

Please come back to me.

Her grip on Maximilian tightened without her realizing.

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