Chapter 98: Choosing Herself

Dorian stepped back, straightening his suit as she slid off the desk. Catherine fixed her clothes with unsteady hands, wiping her face… every place he had touched, as if she could erase the moment.

Her fingers trembled. Her heartbeat still thundered in her ears.

“Katerina…” He reached for her again. “I’m sorry. I lost control. I found you—and made all these plans to be with you. And when I saw you with him—”

She said nothing.

Was that even an apology? Why should she pay for his jealousy?

She crouched, gathering her scattered files before he could help, refusing his touch, his nearness. When she rose, her spine was straight, her gaze level and unflinching.

“Let’s not meet again, Mr. Blackwood,” she said, voice steady despite the storm inside her. “I’m not looking for a husband.”

Focus on me. Come to me alone.

His words echoed… and shattered.

No.

This life was not about belonging to a man.

This life was about choosing herself.

“Katerina—” He reached for her shoulder again.

She stepped aside, facing him fully.

“I’m not Katerina, Mr. Blackwood.” Her chin lifted, her voice clear and firm. “I’m Catherine. Dr. Catherine Elizabeth Preston.”

Not a crown princess in need of a king.

Not a girl bartering her body for survival.

A woman. A daughter. A sister.

Someone who would finally choose her own life.

Dorian’s hand fell. He didn’t move closer again.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Catherine gave a small, acknowledging nod. Then she turned, walked to the door, and opened it. She couldn’t wait to get out of here.

There…

Maximilian stood, his hand hovering inches from the knob.

Her heart lurched so hard it felt as if it had leapt out of her chest and sprinted away.

Shame… sharp and sudden shame, burned through her, tangled with a guilt she didn’t understand. She dropped her gaze, unable to meet his eyes.

Maximilian’s brows lifted slightly as he took her in. Then his gaze slid past her, toward the man approaching behind.

Dorian.

His hair was slightly disheveled. His lips… he dragged his thumb across them, slow, deliberate, almost provocative.

“Catherine,” Dorian said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, his eyes never leaving Maximilian. “Your lipstick is smudged.”

Catherine’s hands clenched into fists.

Her shoulders sagged under the sudden weight of humiliation.

She had done nothing wrong.

And yet, she felt stained by it all the same.

Why, even after apologizing, was Dorian still provoking Maximilian? He’d implied they’d kissed; her smudged lipstick was proof, and he made sure Maximilian heard it. He wanted a reaction. But what did he think would happen?

That small, calculated gesture was not care. It was a message.

She let me close enough to touch her.

I can reach her in ways you cannot.

She is still mine to claim.

Dorian wanted a reaction. He wanted to see Maximilian break composure, to lash out, to prove himself the kind of man Catherine should not choose. If Maximilian struck him first, Dorian would become the calm, reasonable one—the safer choice. If Maximilian stayed still, then Dorian would still have planted doubt in Catherine’s mind, if Maximilian cared at all.

Either way, it was a move on the board.

Maximilian’s fists curled, knuckles whitening, ready to strike… until his gaze flicked to Catherine. She looked small. Ashamed.

Catherine saw it… the tension in his hands, the storm in his eyes. Men. If she weren’t standing between them, they’d already be trading blows.

She didn’t want any part of their mind games. If they wanted to destroy each other, that was their choice. She knew how much those two loved war.

So she turned and walked away.

Behind her, Maximilian’s gaze snapped back to Dorian. The smear of her lipstick still marked Dorian’s lips—deliberate, taunting. Maximilian’s jaw tightened. The two men, nearly the same height, stood like drawn blades, the air between them stretched so thin it could snap.

Maximilian wanted to kill him.

But then Catherine’s retreating figure caught his eye.

And he chose her.

To Catherine’s surprise, Maximilian followed immediately. She felt him before she heard him… his heat, sharp and suffocating, radiating off him like a warning.

She didn’t want to turn. Didn’t want to speak.

Didn’t want him to see the shame burning through her.

On the way down in the elevator, Maximilian watched Catherine wipe her face with a trembling hand.

“What happened?” he asked quietly.

Catherine pressed her lips together. “I… he kissed me.”

The words tasted like failure. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, but she refused to hide it.

Beside her, Maximilian’s knuckles cracked as his fists tightened. “Are you okay?”

Was she? Catherine didn’t know. Her body was fine, but her chest ached, heavy and bruised with something deeper than pain.

“The bracelet opened when he touched it,” she said.

Maximilian’s eyes snapped to her wrist. The bracelet still circled it.

“It clasped back on by itself,” she added before he could ask.

And then another realization slid in, cold and bitter.

Dorian hadn’t listened to her at all. He had only made her listen to him, and to what he wanted… and taken what he wished.

If he had listened… the bracelet might be gone.

A soft sigh slipped out of her.

Men are all the same.

But the thought didn’t sit right, not when Maximilian’s face rose in her mind.

He wasn’t like that. Maybe in their past life he had been harsh, even cruel. But in this life… he held himself back. He showed up when she needed him. Even when jealousy flickered through him, he never crossed the line. He never treated her like something to claim. He treated her like a person, with her own will, her own choices.

Slowly, she turned her head to look at him.

Maximilian stared straight ahead, his expression tight, controlled. Anger burned beneath it, but he didn’t let it spill onto her.

Catherine let out another quiet breath.

The elevator doors slid open.

They stepped out.

The moment they cleared the building, Maximilian turned to her.

“Did you like his kiss?” he asked.

Catherine closed her eyes for a second, weary.

She had judged him too soon.

“You’re…” she shook her head.

Maximilian scoffed. “I’m what?” he asked.

Catherine let out a sigh. “I cannot right now, Professor.”

“Did you say his name?”

“Stop acting pathetic,” she said.

The less he talked, the more she liked him. Honestly.

“You’re a cruel woman, Catherine,” Maximilian said.

Catherine stopped and looked at him. “Then leave me alone.”

Maximilian’s face darkened. Then he stopped realizing it.

“Catherine,” he held her wrist.

Stupid! He chided himself.

Dorian had forcefully kissed her. Hence, she was wiping her face. He stupidly asked her if she liked his kiss.

Stupid, Max… you and your stupid mouth!

He wanted to know more, He wanted to end Dorian right now. But he knew Catherine wouldn’t want that. Until she opened up, he’d keep up this banter with her.

“You don’t get to run from me after what just happened in there.” He said instead. He meant every word.

“Don’t forget… You’re shackled to me…” he pointed at the bracelet with a smirk.

Catherine rolled her eyes.

Seriously! This guy!

When she looked away, she didn’t see the way his smile faded.

Somewhere above them, behind tinted glass, Dorian was still watching, his fists clenched inside his trouser pockets.

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