Instead, he drew her back down, settling her onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her without force, just enough to keep her there, to keep her close. He could feel the way her heart raced, the tension in her body that she couldn’t quite hide.

She was afraid.

Not of him.

But of losing him.

"Catherine... let me speak freely," he murmured, his voice lower now, near her shoulder.

She hesitated, then gave a small nod.

"When your father got sick, your company didn’t collapse," he said. "Why?"

"Because the line of succession is clear," she replied instinctively. "Everything is structured. Everyone knows their place."

Then her brows drew together slightly. "But he’s older. He has heirs. You..." she glanced at him, her voice softening, "you’re not even married yet."

She understood what he was saying.

Too well.

She had seen families destroy themselves over uncertainty, over greed, over the absence of clarity. Her father had ensured that would never happen to them.

But this... This felt different.

Why now, when everything around them was already so uncertain?

Maximilian exhaled quietly, his hold on her steady.

"There was a boy in our class," he began. "You remember that detergent company that used to dominate the market? It’s gone now."

Catherine nodded, though a part of her didn’t want to follow where this was leading.

"His father passed away," Maximilian continued. "No one knew where his assets were. Most of it was hidden overseas... unaccounted for. Even his wife had no idea. In the end, the debts remained, and his partner disappeared with everything else."

Catherine frowned slightly. "You don’t have children. You don’t have debt," she said, a faint edge creeping into her voice. "You’re wealthier than I am, even if I count in my inheritance. What’s the rush?"

Maximilian’s lips curved faintly. "And you have research that will make you even richer."

"In the future," she countered, a hint of frustration breaking through. She let out a small, exasperated sound. "You’re so annoying. Why are you always like this?"

He didn’t react to that. Instead, he lifted his hand, gently tilting her chin so she had no choice but to look at him.

"Once we’re married," he said quietly, "I want you to handle my finances."

The words were simple, but they carried weight.

"This is just... something I’ve decided I should do. Nothing more than that."

He didn’t say the rest.

Didn’t tell her that if anything ever happened to him, he wanted everything to fall into her hands without question, without struggle.

He had earned it all, for her. Her alone. Whether they were married or not, whether she was in love with him or not... He wanted her to have it all.

Because he could see it... she wasn’t ready to hear that.

Catherine held his gaze, searching his face, and what she found there... was sincerity. Nothing hidden. Nothing complicated.

Just him.

Slowly, the tightness in her chest eased.

She had seen men hide things, manipulate, control through secrecy. And here he was, doing the exact opposite... offering her everything without being asked.

She should feel secure.

Not afraid.

And... she shouldn’t be afraid of taking responsibilities. This was what a marriage was about. She had seen this in her brothers’ marriage.

"...Okay," she said at last.

Maximilian blinked, then smiled, something lighter returning to his expression. "Really?"

"Yes," she nodded, though a small sigh escaped her. "But... that’s enough for now."

He chuckled softly at that.

"Now, we have to meet someone."

Catherine stared at him. "You’re not finished?"

There was a hint of disbelief in her voice now, a faint exhaustion creeping in as the weight of everything settled.

Maximilian’s hands moved to her shoulders, his touch gentler this time, grounding.

"Are you tired?" he asked quietly. "Do you need to rest?"

"It’s not that..." she exhaled slowly, then looked at him again. "Who are we meeting?"

There was a moment of pause.

Then his expression shifted, something almost playful flickering in his eyes.

"Don’t you want to know who I called at the airport that day?" he asked.

Catherine’s curiosity stirred instantly, cutting through her lingering unease.

"...Who?"

Maximilian only smiled, that quiet, knowing curve of his lips that always seemed to carry more than what he said aloud.

"We’re going to meet him now."

It wasn’t just about wealth. Not to him. Money, properties, investments—those were things he could build again if he ever had to. They were security, a cushion he had created over the years, something steady and reliable that he could place beneath her feet without hesitation.

But what truly held weight in his world... what shaped outcomes, opened doors, and protected what mattered... were connections.

And Catherine needed those far more than anything else.

Not because she lacked power, he had seen enough to know she would carve her own place in the world with or without him, but because the kind of battles she was stepping into now were not fought with intelligence alone. They were fought in rooms she had not yet entered, with people she had not yet met, through networks that quietly decided who rose... and who disappeared.

He wanted her to walk into those spaces without ever having to wonder if she belonged.

Because she did.

Because she was his.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, softer now, something almost protective settling beneath it as the thought took root again. He had once feared that her family would look down on him, that marrying him might place her in a position where she would have to endure quiet judgment or subtle cruelty. It had been a possibility he had prepared himself for, one he had been ready to fight if it ever came to pass.

But meeting them had dismantled that fear entirely.

They had not measured him by his wealth. They had not dissected his background or weighed his worth in numbers. They had only looked at one thing—whether he would take care of her, whether he would love her the way she deserved.

And that... had been enough for them.

It had stayed with him, that quiet acceptance. It had shifted something in him.

Just because they did not demand anything of him... did not mean he would give her any less.

If anything, it only made him want to give her more.

His fingers brushed lightly against hers, a small, absent gesture, but one that carried intention all the same.

He knew exactly what she needed. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

And he would place it all in her hands, piece by piece, until there was nothing in this world she could not reach.

"Come," he said softly, his voice gentler now, but no less certain.

Because among everything he had built, everything he had guarded... there were a few connections that stood above the rest.

And one of them... was Sebastian Remington.

The other... the one he was bringing her to meet... was much more powerful.