Chapter 79: Were They On The Same Side?

Catherine’s hands curled into fists at her sides. She did not want to be here. After what had passed between them that morning, after the heat, the restraint, and the almost… this was what he brought her to?

Marcus’ Warm Loaf—that was the name of the bakery. Marcus was Maximilian’s firstborn’s name.

What was he trying to do?

She was about to turn and walk out when Maximilian caught her hand. Not her wrist. Her hand. Their fingers slid together naturally, intimately, as if it had always been that way.

Catherine stiffened and tried to pull free, but he did not release her. Instead, he stepped closer and interlocked their fingers firmly, his thumb pressing against her knuckles in quiet reassurance.

She was ready to protest harder… until he looked at her.

His blue eyes were sharp. Certain. Decided.

And something about that look poured cold water over the fire of her rage.

Maximilian led her straight toward Charlotte.

“I’ll have three of those,” he said calmly, pointing at the croissants.

Charlotte, still blonde and wearing the tall chef’s hat, turned with a bright smile that reached her eyes. But the moment her gaze landed on Maximilian, that smile faltered. When she noticed Catherine standing beside him, her hands began to tremble.

“Kat~” she almost said her name but pressed her lips together.

The tray slipped from her fingers and croissants scattered across the floor.

In that instant, Catherine knew.

She remembers.

The past surged up like a blade twisting in her chest. Did she give the order to kill my son? The question echoed violently in her mind, dragging old grief to the surface.

Catherine’s nails bit into her palms as she fought the urge to leap forward. She wanted to grab Charlotte by the hair, to demand answers, to shake the truth out of her.

Why did you kill my son? I protected yours at the cost of my own marriage.

She tried to wrench her hand free from Maximilian’s grip, but he only tightened it. His hold was firm, unyielding, almost possessive.

A bitter thought rose in her throat. Is he protecting his wife?

Maximilian did not look at Catherine. His eyes remained fixed on Charlotte.

“Oops,” he said lightly. “That’s unfortunate. I came all this way for croissants. I heard the ones here are incomparable.”

The words were pleasant.

His tone was not.

Catherine froze as she heard it—cold, measured, edged with something dangerous. She turned slowly to look at him, and what she saw made her breath hitch.

His expression was carved in stone. His eyes had turned glacial, hard and glinting, and his jaw was tight with restrained fury.

Never in this life, or the last, had she seen him look like that. Ever. Not even when she had once believed him her enemy.

If looks could kill, Charlotte would already be torn apart.

Charlotte seemed to feel it too. She stumbled backward and then bolted toward the staff entrance.

“Call the cops!” she screamed. “Call the cops!”

As though someone had aimed a weapon at her.

Maximilian did not react. Still holding her hand, he turned and walked out with measured steps. On the way out, he pulled out his phone and typed something calmly, as though none of this had shaken him.

Outside, he finally looked at her.

And the man standing before her was once again the Maximilian she knew—slightly goofy, slightly annoying, faintly mysterious. As if that cold, terrifying version of him had never existed at all.

“What was that over there?” she asked. He had brought her there, and she deserved an explanation.

“She’ll reach out to us soon,” he said calmly. “Then we can question her.”

Catherine swallowed.

Us.

We.

So… they were standing on the same side now?

She forced herself not to read too much into it. Maximilian was capable of deception; he could dangle a thread in front of her just to guide her attention elsewhere. And yet, for all her suspicion, she could not form a single rebuttal.

They stopped by the daycare next to pick up the baby. This time, Catherine walked in with him.

The baby was asleep, cheeks flushed and lashes resting softly against her skin. Catherine’s heart softened instantly at the sight.

Her mother had gone on a European tour shortly after giving birth, leaving her in her uncle’s care. And that uncle had no problem placing her in daycare among strangers.

Was that how old money excused neglect?

Catherine gathered the baby gently into her arms. The little one stirred, then instinctively leaned into her chest, seeking warmth.

“Poor baby,” Catherine murmured softly. “Even I forgot about you last night.”

She adjusted the blanket around her and looked at Maximilian. “Where is her father?”

She understood why their mother was absent for now. Dr. Morcant had career, friends, and other obligations. But where was the husband?

“He’s not in the picture,” Maximilian replied.

“A deadbeat?” Catherine’s brows lifted. “And you allowed him to leave?”

If this were her family, the man would have disappeared quietly. It would have been easier to explain death than abandonment.

Maximilian did not answer.

For some reason, Catherine sensed he was not even thinking about that issue. His gaze seemed distant, calculating something else entirely.

He’s not a very good brother, is he? she thought. My brothers would never allow something like that.

Back home, she settled the baby into the crib. When the little one cried, Catherine fed her, changed her, and rocked her gently until she drifted back to sleep.

She had always been good with children. Babies liked her. In this life, she was surrounded by nieces, nephews, grandnieces and nephews, and toddlers running around her skirts.

She exhaled slowly.

She missed them.

Maximilian was already immersed in his laptop, fingers moving steadily across the keyboard. Catherine sat nearby with her phone, but her mind lingered on Charlotte and the bakery.

With a quiet huff, she decided to leave a one-star review, like everyone else. If nothing else, she could at least make her displeasure known.

But when she searched for the bakery’s name, her breath caught.

The top results were food influencers publicly criticizing the place. There was an exposé detailing health and safety violations, allegedly written by one of their own employees. The review page was flooded with one-star ratings.

It had not even been three hours since they left.

How could everything collapse so quickly?

Catherine slowly lifted her gaze toward Maximilian.

“Did you do this?” she asked, though even to her ears it sounded absurd.

Why would he go that far?

Maximilian looked up from his laptop. His eyes were sharp, focused—but there was still that familiar gentleness in them when they settled on her.

His lips curved dangerously.

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