Shackled To The Enemy King-Chapter 135: Losing Control

Maximilian leaned against the wall, watching Catherine dance in the living room with Sophia.

She was swaying her hips exaggeratedly, curling her finger at him and biting her lip in an overdramatic way.

She looked... absolutely delicious.

The boys had gathered around him earlier, bombarding him with questions, staring at him like he was some kind of legend.

At first, Maximilian had enjoyed their awe. But admiration lost its charm very quickly. Watching Catherine dance while completely drunk was far more entertaining.

He straightened slightly and looked at the boys.

"Who wants to learn history?" he asked pleasantly. "If you have any doubts, you can ask me. Do you want to learn about the War of the Roses?" he asked.

The reaction was immediate.

Just like cockroaches scattering the moment someone flicks on the lights at midnight... The boys vanished. They sprinted out of the room so fast it was almost impressive.

Maximilian chuckled quietly.

Ah.

Finally... peace.

At least two empty wine bottles were lying on the table. Catherine was holding the remote control like it was a microphone, swaying dramatically as she sang at the top of her lungs.

"...I need a man who knows how the story goes...

He’s gotta be a heartbeatin’, fine treatin’

Breathtakin’, earthquakin’ kind..."

Maximilian smiled.

Not a single word was clear. She was completely drunk.

The front door opened then, and Bobby walked in. He gave a cursory nod to Maximilain and then glanced around briefly, probably searching for his kids. When he didn’t immediately see them, his attention landed on Sophia. He quickly glanced at Maximilian as if he had something to say to him, but Sophia called his name.

And that was the end of it.

He walked straight to her and pulled her into a dance.

Catherine did not look pleased. She pushed Bobby away dramatically and hugged Sophia instead, clinging to her possessively. Bobby didn’t even budge.

Sophia, just as drunk as Catherine, burst into laughter, leaning into Bobby and planting a sloppy kiss on his lips.

Bobby’s hand slid to her lower back, and their kisses quickly became... much more enthusiastic.

Maximilian suddenly felt like an unwilling witness.

Caleb walked into the house just then, still holding his phone. The moment he saw his parents in the living room practically devouring each other’s faces, he physically winced.

"Ewww! Guys! Get a room!"

He climbed up the stairs and disappeard into his room.

Josh stepped in behind him, took one look, and immediately stopped in his tracks. "I’m staying at Uncle William’s tonight," he said flatly. "My walls are not thick enough."

Then he turned around and walked straight back out the door.

"Tell Miranda I said hi!" Sophia said. Well, her son liked sleeping in his uncle’s house, because Miranda made an awesome breakfast.

Meanwhile, Catherine had collapsed halfway onto the couch, dizzy and giggling. "Make more babies, guys..." she slurred lazily. "I want more babies to raise."

Bobby chuckled. "No can do."

Sophia pouted immediately, whining like a child. "Why not? Give me a daughter, Bobby!"

Catherine’s head popped up from the couch. "Yeah, why not, Bobby?" she added mischievously. "What, do you think she’s old? She’s not even forty yet!"

Maximilian saw the wicked smirk spreading across Catherine’s face. She was absolutely provoking him on purpose.

Sophia’s head snapped toward her husband. "Do you think I’m old, Bobby?" she demanded.

Now Bobby knew he was trapped.

Without hesitation, he reached over and twisted Catherine’s ear. She shrieked dramatically, as if the world was ending.

"It’s because he’s getting old!" Catherine declared loudly, refusing to stop stirring up trouble.

Sophia and Bobby resumed kissing even while Sophia plated his dinner.

It was... increasingly personal.

Unfortunately, and also fortunately, thanks to the bracelet binding him to her, Maximilian couldn’t leave without Catherine.

So eventually, Maximilian did the only thing he could do.

He took Catherine with him.

The driver had already left for the night, and Catherine’s house was about a mile away. Maximilian didn’t mind walking. In fact, the cool night air felt welcome after the chaos inside.

He crouched slightly and lifted Catherine onto his back.

"Do you think I’m a pig?" Catherine asked suddenly as he stepped down from the porch.

Maximilian blinked in surprise. "Where did you get that idea?"

Catherine frowned at him drunkenly. "Why are you giving me a piggyback ride if I’m not a pig?" she demanded.

Maximilian stared at her for a moment... and then laughed softly. "That makes sense," he admitted. "How else should I carry you?"

"Princess carry!" Catherine declared immediately.

Maximilian frowned. "What’s that?"

Catherine gasped as if he had committed an unforgivable crime. She wriggled out of his hold, nearly stumbling as she landed on the ground, and staggered a few steps away from him.

"You’re stupid, Moosemilian," she announced with deep disappointment. "You’re so stupid."

Maximilian sighed patiently. "I’m sorry for being stupid."

He quickly pulled out his phone and searched it.

A moment later, he looked up. "Oh."

He smiled faintly.

"What a bother..."

He jogged forward, caught up to her easily, and suddenly scooped her into his arms.

Catherine shrieked in surprise before immediately wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"Yaaay! Princess carry!" she shouted happily. "I’m so happy!"

Maximilian glanced down at her.

She was smiling—bright, carefree, completely from the heart. She looked like someone who had forgotten all the troubles of the morning.

Watching that smile somehow made the long walk feel much shorter.

Perhaps it was that... or perhaps it was the memories that kept stirring in his mind.

He had seen it that day—how close her family was. How doors were never truly closed. How anyone could wander into anyone’s house without knocking. Meals appeared on every table, shared without counting. Cousins sprawled wherever they wished, borrowing clothes, teasing each other, laughing without restraint.

There had been warmth everywhere. A kind of easy belonging he had never quite known.

Maximilian had been quietly amazed by it.

When they reached home, he guided Catherine to the couch before heading to prepare the bath. The sound of running water filled the quiet apartment.

By the time the tub was ready, the faint haze of wine had already begun to leave Catherine’s eyes.

"Careful," he said when she stepped toward the bathroom.

"I’ll be fine," she waved a careless hand at him.

Even so, Maximilian stayed outside, just in case.

The soft clinking of bottles and drawers told him she was already going through her nightly routine. Taking that as reassurance, he went to take a quick shower himself.

When he returned, the door to her room was still open.

Catherine watched him through the mirror of her vanity as he stepped inside. Her fingers slowed as they moved through her hair, weaving it into a loose braid that fell over her shoulder.

"What?" she asked, standing.

Her heart had begun to beat strangely. It always did when he was near.

Maximilian didn’t answer. He simply walked toward her. One step.Then another.

The quiet between them thickened with every inch he closed. Catherine’s fingers tightened slightly around the ribbon at the end of her braid.

Something about his eyes made her chest tighten. They were different tonight. It was not the familiar gaze that teased her, amused and patient. This was something else.

Something darker. Something that watched her as if he had already made a decision she didn’t yet understand.

"Wh–what?" she asked again when he stopped in front of her.

He smelled like her. Of course, he did. He had used her shampoo, her soap. That shouldn’t have been surprising. And yet...

On him, the scent felt entirely different.

Her breath caught without warning. When had he started smelling like this? Why did it make her stomach flutter so violently?

For a moment, it felt as though the air in the room had disappeared.

Catherine took a step back. Maximilian followed instantly. Her leg brushed the edge of the bed.

She stepped back again... Her heel slipped against the rug. With a small gasp, she fell onto the bed.

"What are you—"

The words came out soft, breathy... almost like a hiss. It sounded far less like a protest than she intended.

Heat spread slowly beneath her skin. Every nerve in her body seemed to wake at once.

Maximilian watched her for a moment. Then he knelt on the bed.

The mattress dipped under his weight as he leaned forward, the white towel tied loosely around his waist, the only thing between them and the quiet intimacy of the room.

Catherine suddenly became painfully aware of how close he was, of the warmth of his skin... of the faint droplets of water still clinging to his neck.

Her throat went dry.

"Give me..." he said quietly.

His blue eyes never left hers. Not even for a second.

"Wh–what?" she whispered, her voice barely steady.

He leaned closer. His hand pressed into the mattress beside her shoulder, caging her in without truly touching her.

The space between them shrank. The heat of him wrapped around her like a slow, tightening coil.

An electric current shot through her stomach.

"Catherine..."

Her name slipped from his lips in a low, rough murmur.

The sound of it made her heart slam harder against her ribs.

Her heart whispered yes before she understood why.

He leaned even closer now, so close she could feel his breath brush her skin.

"Give me..."

His voice dropped into something dangerously soft.